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The plan was demented but clever.
With the worst of the crisis behind me and Nolan properly lauded for all his hard work, my night would consist of It’s a Wonderful Life and Miracle on 34th Street. Anything black and white with a clear-cut happy ending.
I found some powdered instant hot chocolate in the cupboard and couldn’t resist making some to accompany my solo movie night. As I mixed up the cocoa into the boiled milk I realized how little I knew about hot beverages that weren’t coffee. Clumps of chocolaty dust refused to be broken down, and I was too enchanted by the tiny fake marshmallows to fight too hard with mixing the drink.
I sipped the concoction, and it tasted like liquid sugar. Not being a hot-chocolate connoisseur, I assumed that was appropriate and took the steaming mug out of the kitchen and into the living room where the flickering tree lights made it look like a disco.
When I sat on the loveseat, I screamed and sloshed hot chocolate all over myself.
My redheaded spirit guide sat beside me, glowing like a lightning bug, and I swear to God she was smiling. I hadn’t seen the ghost of Ashley Parsons since the night she pointed towards Long Island and in her wordless way had told me to go east, young assassin.
I set th
e coffee mug on the floor and returned to the kitchen to get a wet dishtowel to wipe the hot, sticky liquid off my arms. She was still waiting on the loveseat when I came back.
“So, which are you?”
The girl cocked her head to the side and looked confused, but as before she said nothing.
“Ghost of Christmas past, present or future,” I clarified.
There was no mistaking the upward turn of her mouth this time. In the blinking lights of the Christmas tree her tiara looked extra glittery. She rose and floated up to me, reaching out her hand with the opaque palm facing up. I didn’t think I could touch her, but I tried to take hold of the offered hand. My fingers slid right through the space, but the air where I’d tried to touch her was colder than the temperature around us. The ghost frowned and dropped her arm to her side, then drifted by me and gave a look back before she passed through my front door.
I hesitated but ultimately curiosity ruled over any qualms I might have. As long as she didn’t want me to climb any fire escapes I was willing to see what she wanted. After pulling on a pair of slipper-boots, I ran out into the hall and followed the girl into the street.
She was waiting at the top of my steps with her face angled up to the dark sky. I was so busy looking down the block it took me a second to realize why she had brought me outside.
The first snowflake landed on my cheek, then more joined it, sticking to my eyelashes and melting on my lips. The big fluffy flakes were tumbling down, illuminated like dust motes in the yellow glow of the streetlights. I smiled and tilted my head back, sticking my tongue out and catching the small, cold clusters in my mouth, where they dissolved like sugar.
All the anxiety, pain and frustration of the last week melted away with each flake that wet my skin.
“Thank—” I began to express my gratitude to the ghost, but when I looked beside me she was gone.
I held out my hand palm up, and the cool brush of the snow felt like the girl’s ghostly touch.
“Thank you,” I finished and closed my eyes, turning my face back to the sky.
“Whatcha looking at?”
I opened one eye and tilted my head sideways. Had I not recognized the voice I’d have sprung into a defensive pose, but Brigit had a distinctive cheerfulness that was impossible to fake. She was holding a stack of parcels wrapped in metallic paper and wore a fuzzy fuchsia beret. Her smile could have lit up the street.
“Just playing in the snow. ”
“Wanna give us a hand?”
“Us?” I dropped my attention from the sky entirely and looked past her on the sidewalk. A cab door slammed closed and the driver took off.
Nolan shuffled up the path, trying to see over the stack of gifts he carried. “Hi,” he said, his voice muffled by the bulk of his burden. I grabbed the heavy boxes from him, and he was more than willing to let them go.
“What are you guys doing here?”
“It’s Christmas,” Brigit answered, as though that explained everything. Then she added, “No one should be alone on Christmas. ”
It was hard to say whether she meant me or herself and I didn’t ask. Nolan blushed a little, and I figured he must have told her I was spending the night by myself.
“I was making hot chocolate. ”
“Ohh. ” Nolan opened the door for us, letting the gift-bearers in ahead of himself, then locked my apartment door behind us. “Count me in. ”
