behind, but what if it was this older past, this past
of ancestors and wood worn smooth by the steps of dead
generations? What if .. .
"Jitty?" I called her, knowing she wasn't a ghost who
answered summons. I needed her, though. I needed someone.
"Jitty!"
A shimmer of light floated into the parlor and Jitty
materialized in black widow's weeds. A heavy veil covered her face, and I couldn't see the expression in her
eyes.
"Who died?" I asked.
She lifted the veil, and the gentlest smile touched her
face. "You'll have to tell me that, Sarah Booth. It could be
me"
"That's impossible. You're already dead"
"I'm here only as long as you need me"
I'd never considered that Jitty's existence was so
strongly linked with my own destiny. Actually, it was too
terrifying to think about, but I had to ask.
"If I left Dahlia House, would you stay here?"
"All alone, in an empty house? What would be the fun
of that?" she asked.
"This is your home" I almost choked on the word,
overcome by a wave of sadness that body-slammed me.
"Four walls and a roof don't make a home, Sarah
Booth. I'm here because of you."
"If I left here, would you ... disappear?" Die wasn't
exactly a word I could make myself say.
"I honestly don't know." She was stiller than I'd ever
seen her, a black figure hovering at the edge of the rug.
"Coleman has broken my heart," I confessed.
She nodded. "Some folks can see a train wreck
comin', Sarah Booth. Others have to wait for the steam,
crash, and broken bones"
I would fall into that category. Jitty had warned me
about Coleman. So had Tinkie. And Cece. And Millie.
The list went on. But I hadn't listened. Instead, I'd listened to my heart, a stupid muscle that knew how to do
only two things pump and break.
I cleared the lump from my throat. "The show closes
this Thursday. If I'm not in jail, I'm going to Hollywood
with Graf and take a screen test" I didn't realize my mind
was made up until I said it aloud.
"Dreams are hard to come by, Sarah Booth. Especially
ones that come true. To turn your back on a dream would
be foolish, and God knows, I'd like to see you stop that
track record here and now." Her smile took the sting out
of her words.
"Why do you think Coleman stopped loving me? I
know it was real. I didn't make it up or dream it. It was
real. What happened?"
She came forward and perched on the arm of the sofa.
Her dress was truly exquisite. The low-cut neckline, edged
in black, made her skin creamy, a buttery caramel. "All
along ever'one tole you, he's a married man. You just
wouldn't listen."
"He accused me of murder. That doesn't have a thing
to do with his marital status"
"Think it through, girl. Use your head for a change"
I tried. "What?"
"On the surface it may not, but Coleman is smart. And
one thing about him, he's a man of honor. You're the logical suspect in this murder. He had to come down on you
like a ton of bricks. He didn't have a choice. Now he can't
afford to call you or even talk to you casually, for fear
someone will say he gave you information or evidence to
help you prepare your defense. Whatever else he may
have done, he's lookin' out for you right now. He's doin'
the honorable and noble thing."
Her words cut deeper than a strap. My head knew she
was right, but my heart hurt too badly to accept her explanation. "I need him here, holding me, telling me that he knows I'm innocent. That's what I need from him." I
went to the sideboard and made another drink.
"He has needs, too"
"I don't believe it. You're defending him!"
"You won't listen because you want what you want.
He's giving you what you need, even if you're too pigheaded to see it."
"I want arms to hold me, and I want someone to see
me as talented and not a failure. I want kisses-"
The knock on the door was unexpected, and for a moment I thought my powerful wanting had made Coleman
materialize right on my front porch. I rushed past Jitty to
answer the
of ancestors and wood worn smooth by the steps of dead
generations? What if .. .
"Jitty?" I called her, knowing she wasn't a ghost who
answered summons. I needed her, though. I needed someone.
"Jitty!"
A shimmer of light floated into the parlor and Jitty
materialized in black widow's weeds. A heavy veil covered her face, and I couldn't see the expression in her
eyes.
"Who died?" I asked.
She lifted the veil, and the gentlest smile touched her
face. "You'll have to tell me that, Sarah Booth. It could be
me"
"That's impossible. You're already dead"
"I'm here only as long as you need me"
I'd never considered that Jitty's existence was so
strongly linked with my own destiny. Actually, it was too
terrifying to think about, but I had to ask.
"If I left Dahlia House, would you stay here?"
"All alone, in an empty house? What would be the fun
of that?" she asked.
"This is your home" I almost choked on the word,
overcome by a wave of sadness that body-slammed me.
"Four walls and a roof don't make a home, Sarah
Booth. I'm here because of you."
"If I left here, would you ... disappear?" Die wasn't
exactly a word I could make myself say.
"I honestly don't know." She was stiller than I'd ever
seen her, a black figure hovering at the edge of the rug.
"Coleman has broken my heart," I confessed.
She nodded. "Some folks can see a train wreck
comin', Sarah Booth. Others have to wait for the steam,
crash, and broken bones"
I would fall into that category. Jitty had warned me
about Coleman. So had Tinkie. And Cece. And Millie.
The list went on. But I hadn't listened. Instead, I'd listened to my heart, a stupid muscle that knew how to do
only two things pump and break.
I cleared the lump from my throat. "The show closes
this Thursday. If I'm not in jail, I'm going to Hollywood
with Graf and take a screen test" I didn't realize my mind
was made up until I said it aloud.
"Dreams are hard to come by, Sarah Booth. Especially
ones that come true. To turn your back on a dream would
be foolish, and God knows, I'd like to see you stop that
track record here and now." Her smile took the sting out
of her words.
"Why do you think Coleman stopped loving me? I
know it was real. I didn't make it up or dream it. It was
real. What happened?"
She came forward and perched on the arm of the sofa.
Her dress was truly exquisite. The low-cut neckline, edged
in black, made her skin creamy, a buttery caramel. "All
along ever'one tole you, he's a married man. You just
wouldn't listen."
"He accused me of murder. That doesn't have a thing
to do with his marital status"
"Think it through, girl. Use your head for a change"
I tried. "What?"
"On the surface it may not, but Coleman is smart. And
one thing about him, he's a man of honor. You're the logical suspect in this murder. He had to come down on you
like a ton of bricks. He didn't have a choice. Now he can't
afford to call you or even talk to you casually, for fear
someone will say he gave you information or evidence to
help you prepare your defense. Whatever else he may
have done, he's lookin' out for you right now. He's doin'
the honorable and noble thing."
Her words cut deeper than a strap. My head knew she
was right, but my heart hurt too badly to accept her explanation. "I need him here, holding me, telling me that he knows I'm innocent. That's what I need from him." I
went to the sideboard and made another drink.
"He has needs, too"
"I don't believe it. You're defending him!"
"You won't listen because you want what you want.
He's giving you what you need, even if you're too pigheaded to see it."
"I want arms to hold me, and I want someone to see
me as talented and not a failure. I want kisses-"
The knock on the door was unexpected, and for a moment I thought my powerful wanting had made Coleman
materialize right on my front porch. I rushed past Jitty to
answer the
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