Having told Jim all she knew about the ghost who had died of strangulation, Melinda went downstairs to fix them breakfast. Actually, she still didn't feel well enough to eat a big meal, but she figured Jim deserved it because of his patience and understanding.
It still amazed Melinda how lucky she was to have this incredible, loving, handsome man in her life. Standing over the stove, caught up in her musings, she didn't know Jim had entered the kitchen until he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.
"Smells good. You feeling better?"
"A little," she said just before turning away from the eggs she was scrambling to sneeze. She turned back to Jim who had an amused look on his face. "I guess I've got some progress to make, though. But these aren't for me, I wanted to make you breakfast as a way to apologize for keeping you out of the loop. I really am sorry. Am I forgiven?"
Jim looked down into her beautiful, apologetic face. "Of course I forgive you." He gave her a smile and took the plate of eggs, bacon, and toast she offered. "But the food helps."
Melinda smacked him on the back as he went to sit at the counter.
"So," he began between bites of food, "this ghost hasn't been able to tell you what he wants because he can't speak, and you're getting the impression that whatever he does need is urgent."
"Yeah, the energy surrounding him is anxious and eager. I feel as if he's in a hurry." Her brow furrowed in thought. "I've never encountered a ghost who can't communicate with me before. He must've used a lot of his energy to create that note, so until he's strong enough to visit me again…."
"I don't like it, Mel. An impatient ghost just doesn't sound safe to me."
Melinda looked across the counter at her husband. "He hasn't done anything to hurt me."
Jim shot her a look.
"I mean, I don't think he meant to hurt me. He was just trying to convey his message the only way he could. Besides, it's like I said, it'll take him time to build-up more energy, so if the space between his last two visits are any indication, I'm not expecting him to pop in anytime soon."
"Is that a hint?" Jim got up to rinse his plate and Melinda turned to keep him in her sight.
"Yes. It means you can go into town to take care of whatever business you need to." She finished her sentence with a sniffle, her stuffy nose making itself known.
Jim reached past her to the box of tissue sitting on the counter. Handing her the last one, he held up the empty box. "The business I have to take care of. Also, we're out of cough syrup and soup."
Melinda make a gagging noise. "Please, no more soup!"
"Complain all you'd like," he said, guiding her towards the stairs, "but I'm telling you, soup works."
"Ha. This coming from a paramedic."
"Many a childhood cold was made well by soup. Ask my mom."
Melinda rolled her eyes but let him walk her to the stairs. More sleep sounded good right about now.
She paused by the front door to watch Jim put on his jacket and grab his keys.
"I'll be back soon. Call my cell if you need anything."
"Will do." Turning to head upstairs, she felt Jim pull her back around to face him, a serious look on his face.
"Promise you'll call if Mr. Impatient shows up again."
"I promise." She gave him a reassuring kiss and went upstairs to rest until he returned home. With more soup. Ugh!