Page 60 of A Haunting at Keystone Manor

Alex

“Oh my word, this hotel is beautiful,” comes a voice from the lobby. Shit, did we have guests checking in? I turn around and gasp, feet suddenly frozen to the spot.

I blink, thinking maybe my eyes are deceiving me but nope, my mom is standing in the middle of the lobby, looking around the place in awe. She looks just the same as I remember. She’s short like me, and her curly brown hair is pulled into a bun today. She’s wearing her favorite pair of green capris, and a loose-fitting white blouse. I try to form words, but end up just staring at her in shock.

“Mom?!” I finally choke out.

She rushes over when she sees me and pulls me into a fierce hug. “I can’t breathe, mom,” I say as I pat her back. She pulls away and looks me up and down.

“Have you been here this whole time, sweetie? We’ve been worried sick. You haven’t been home, you haven’t returned our calls. We started to think you’d been kidnapped or sex trafficked.”

I sputter at that. “Mom! Where’s dad?” I look around the lobby but don’t see him. “How are you here right now?”

“Your father is getting the luggage out of the car. And Brandon called us, said you were here and that we should come see you. We drove here as quickly as we could.”

“I’ll go help him with the luggage, Mrs. Harper,” Brandon says from behind the desk.

“Thanks, sugar,” mom says before turning back to me. “Explain yourself. My hair is greying from the stress. It’s been hard these last few months, not knowing where you were.”

I take a deep breath and get ready to explain, but the moment is interrupted by my dad and Brandon walking in, carrying their luggage. My dad is wearing his favorite hockey shirt and loose fitting jeans. When he sees me, he drops his bags and rushes over to me, enveloping me in a hug.

“I’ve missed you, son,” he says into my hair. I hold him tight. “Don’t disappear on us again. We’re not as young as we used to be, we can’t handle the stress of it.”

“I’m sorry. I missed you too. I wanted to contact you sooner, I swear.” I pull away and wipe my eyes. Damn allergies. “Can we take this to the living room? You might want to sit down for what I’m about to tell you.”

“Okay honey,” my mom says.

They follow me into the living room. I sit down on one of the armchairs and they take the couch. Dad takes mom’s hand into his lap and holds on for support. They’re expecting bad news, but what I’m about to tell them is so much worse. I try to ease them carefully into it so they don’t freak out.

“I’m dead,” I say and watch their faces closely for their reaction. They look at each other in confusion, then back to me.

Mom says, “Are you on drugs, honey? Is that what this is about?”

“No, I’m not on drugs.”

“Are you on the lam?” She clutches her necklace.

“What have you gotten yourself into this time, son?” dad asks, voice gruff. “If you need an alibi—”

“No! Guys, I’m not on the run and I’m not a drug addict. I’m dead. I came into work a few weeks ago, or I guess maybe months ago at this point, and Kayla whacked me in the head with a frying pan. I died. I’m a ghost.”

“Kayla. Your manager? Why would she do that?” mom asks.

“It’s a long story. I will tell you everything, I promise. But I think I need to show you what I mean.” I stand up and shake out my limbs. Concentrating hard, I dematerialize.

Mom shrieks and dad yells, “What the hell? Where’d you go Alex?”

“Alex!” mom cries. “Honey where are you?”

I rematerialize in front of them, and they stare at me in wide eyed shock. That's getting harder to do these days. I take a minute to reenergize.

“I think I’m having a heart attack,” mom says and clutches her chest.

“Guys, please don’t freak out. I’m a ghost. So is Jake.”

“Jake?” mom asks.

“Oh, he’s my boyfriend. He died here too. That’s an even longer story that we don’t have time for today. I want to tell you everything, and I will. But not tonight. Please don’t cry, mom.”