My Love, My Life
a Ghost story
by Hermione Eveningfall
Snow fell heavily over the streets of New York city, glowing in the late evening twilight. Molly Jenson, a thirty year old artist, hummed cheerfully to herself as she bustled about her apartment. A mouth watering scent of roast duck wafted through the kitchen door, mixing with the sweet fragrance of the flickering candles on the table.
It was six o'clock when the clock struck it's eerie, echoing toll, and Molly felt her heart racing as she peered through the living room window. She noticed a tall figure making its way towards the building, brown overcoat rustling in the icy breeze. Immediately, Molly dashed towards the front door, breathing deeply and closing her eyes.
Even though she had been dating New York bank accountant Sam Wheat for two years, she still felt as though each visit was a first. She heard the buzzer go off, and pushed the button on the call box. "Hey," she greeted cheerfully. "Come on up."
After hearing his "Okay," she went to turn on the stereo, and a familiar old fashioned love song rung in her ears as she put the finishing touches on the table.
*Ohhhhhh my love
My darling
I hunger for, oh your touch
A long lonely time...*When the front door opened, Sam was greeted by a warm hug and a passionate kiss on the lips. "Oooh, baby, you're frozen!" Molly touched both of his cheeks gently with the palms of her hands, and then began to rub his bare hands briskly.
*I need your love
I need, I need your love
God speed your love tooooooo to me yeah...*"Our song," he murmered softly as he allowed her to remove his damp coat and scarf, sniffling and rubbing his arms as he watched her hang the garments up on a hook in the hall. She beamed, returning to stand before him, and led him towards the leather couch.
"Come and relax for a little while. Dinner shouldn't be done for at least a half hour. I hope you're hungry...I made your favorite tonight." She grinned mischeviously as he cocked his head to one side, his lips pursing with amusement.
"Really?" he asked, sniffling again. Suddenly, his face crinkled, and he turned his head to the side. "Huh-K'SHUUUH! Eh- HETSHHHH!" he kept his hand over his mouth and nose, eyes closed. "Unnnh." He turned back to face Molly, noting that she had slipped from his lap and was gripping the arm of the couch with surprise.
"Bless you!" she exclaimed. "Oh sweetie. Are you getting sick?" she rested her forehead against his, smoothing her fingertips over his cheek bones, and rested her forehead against his. At that moment, Floyd, her tabby cat, leapt up onto Sam's lap, purring madly. He chuckled, scratching the animal behind the ears.
"Hey there, buddy." He looked at Molly. "Yeah, there's a cold going around the office, and I think I may have c-c-c...K'CHUUUH! ETSHHHHEH! Dammit! Excuse me! Caught it." After coughing into one fist, he shivered, and Molly reached for the throw blanket that hung over the back of the couch.
"Here." She wrapped him up in it, and urged him to lay down. "You should have stayed home in bed." She ran her fingers through his light brown hair, love in her dark eyes. "Just try to keep warm, and I'll fetch you a mug of tea from the kitchen. Is chamomile all right?"
Sam snuggled against the wool, and nodded. "Thanks, baby. I'm sorry...I just didn't want to ruin your Christmas Eve."
Molly stood, putting her hands on her hips, and shook her head. "Oh Sam...you wouldn't have ruined it." She made her way to the kitchen, and began rummaging through the pantry for her tea stash. Sam rarely got sick, so this cold must have been awful enough to infect him as well. Molly cringed as she heard him sneeze again, and filled the teapot with water before setting it on the stove. While the water heated, she checked on dinner, making sure the duck was in fine shape as well as the side dishes. After the water came to a boil, she filled a glass, dropped in a bag of chamomile flowers and let it seep. Sam always liked a few drops of honey in his tea, which she put in before bringing it out to him.
*Lonely rivers flow to the sea, to the sea
To the open arms of the seeea yeah
Lonely rivers sigh wait for me wait for me
I'll be coming home wait for meee...*"Here." She sat beside him, helping him lift his head so he could take a proper sip. "It's pretty hot, so be carerful with it." She smiled as he blew on the liquid, glancing over his shoulder before drinking from the mug.
"Tree looks beautiful. And hmmm, I wonder who all of those presents can be for?"
Molly tapped his nose. "Well, we'll just have to wait until tomorrow to find out, won't we?"
*Wooooah my love
Oh my darlin' I hunger hunger for your love
A long lonely time, and time goes by so slowly
and time can do so much
Are you still mine*Sam sniggered. "Darn, I was hoping I could make you tell me." He took a small sip of tea, letting it sooth his sore throat.
She rolled her eyes playfully, singing aloud to the ending of the song: " I needed your love... I oh baby I need your love... Godspeed your love tooo me." She sighed with content, taking Sam's hand in hers, bringing it to her lips.
"Molly...take this..." Sam handed her the mug, his body trembling. "Eh...eh..." he paused, wriggling his nose a bit. Molly set the mug on the table, and watched him sympathetically.
"Stuck?" she asked when nothing happened. He nodded, sniffling and rubbing his nose.
"I-huh-hate this-eh..." he took a deep breath, gripping onto Molly's arm. "K'CHOOOOOO!"
Molly squeaked as he shot upwards, and blinked in surprise. "God bless you!" she laughed. "You have quite a sneeze, baby. Are you okay?"
He reached for a tissue from the box on the coffee table, and blew his nose. "I think so. Thanks, Moll. Hmmmm, I think in spite of this cold, I am hungry. Let me guess, my favorite...roast duck?" he winked, and she nodded.
"Yes." She kissed him. "I'm glad you're hungry at least, because I spent all day preparing dinner." She winked as she slid off of the couch. "Speaking of dinner, let me go check on it again before I end up burning it. Just lay here and rest okay?" she felt his forehead just to be sure, and smiled. "At least you don't have a fever yet." She pulled the blanket closer to his neck, before heading back to the kitchen. When she was gone, Sam blew out his breath, coughing and cringing as he felt his chest ache. He hated being ill, but did not want to whine and carry on about how miserable he felt. Instead, he rested quietly against the arm of the couch, watching the blinking multicolored lights on the Christmas tree.
Floyd mewed quietly, and Sam motioned for the cat to use his stomach for a pillow again, and the animal gratefully took the offer. Sam stroked the cat's fur, his eyes shining at the sound of the consistent purring. When Molly came back into the parlour, she stopped short, feeling her heart melt at the sight of Sam and the cat. He seemed to sense her presence and looked up, a small smile caressing his lips. "You are too sweet, do you know that?" she asked, walking over to the couch, and squatting to stroke her pet. Floyd's yellow eyes opened, and he licked his lips.
"He looks hungry," Sam pointed out, his voice a bit hoarse. "You'd better feed him quick before he winds up eating me!"
Molly scooped the cat into her arms, cooing over it and carrying it into the kitchen where she kept his food and water bowl. "Eh-K'SHHHHHH! ET'SHHHHH!"
"Bless you!" Molly called, as she poured dry food into Floyd's bowl, and making sure to clean and refill his water bowl as well. When the buzzer went off on the stove, she opened the oven and checked the duck, beaming when it looked perfect. "Nice," she complimented herself, grabbing oven mits and grasping either side of the roasting pot. Once it was sitting on the stovetop, she gently cut a piece of skin from it, and brought it to Sam whom she knew loved that. "Try this and see what you think," she explained, and he took a bite.
"Mmmmm. Molly, perfect. I guess I should get up? Dinner's ready...?" he pulled the blanket down and swung his legs over the edge of the couch, swaying a little. "Whoa..." he clasped a hand to his forehead. "Ugh, must have sat up too fast." He took Molly's arm, and leaned on her for a moment or two until the dizziness passed.
"Are you sure you're all right?" she helped him sit down at the table, massaging his shoulders.
"Yeah, yeah. Thanks, hon." He let her kiss him, and waited patiently for her to bring the food to the table. "Don't force yourself to eat if you aren't hungry," she added, noticing that his face was awfully pale. "If you really aren't feeling good, you can go up and lay down in my bed. I'll just make you a plate for later."
He glanced at her, a pained expression on his face, and nodded. "Maybe you're right." He coughed. "I don't feel good." He rested his head in his arms, and the sight of this made Molly's heart break. "'M sorry, Molly." He murmered as she helped him to his feet.
"Shhhh. Don't be sorry, baby. Here, lean on me." She brought him to the spiral staircase, and they made their way slowly up to her bedroom. "This must have hit you hard. You've probably been working too much." She kissed his cheek, leading him to the bed, and pulled down the covers so he could slide under them once he took his shoes off. "Let me take your temperature just to be sure. You didn't feel warm, but then again, I'm not the best one to judge that." She went to the bathroom to fetch the thermometer, listening to his harsh coughing and sighing. Poor Sam had to be sick on Christmas Eve. `Well, I hope he feels better in the morning,' she thought as she sat down on the side of the bed, telling him to hold the thermometer under his tongue. He closed his eyes, slowly taking her fingers and squeezing them affectionately.
When the thermometer beeped, Molly removed it, reading it closely, and bit her lip. "You do have a small fever. One hundred and one. No wonder you're shivering." He snuggled to be closer to her, and held his breath as she bent over to kiss him and rub his back. "I'll go make you a plate for later if you want it, okay?" she brushed his hair away from his eyes, and he nodded.
"Mmmm hmmmm."
"I love you. I want you to make sure you knew that," she added, tears filling her eyes. He raised his head from the pillow, pure, unconditional love on his face.
"Ditto," he replied.
Molly bit her lip, finally crawling onto the bed beside him. "Aw screw it. I want to lay here with you." She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him close as she felt his trembling beneath her hands. "Mmmm, listen to that..." she whispered, as voices rung cheerfully from outside. "Carolers."
"Mmmm." Sam coughed again, swallowing past his sore throat.
"Oh baby, I'm so sorry you're feeling lousy." She nuzzled his neck.
"You always make me f-f-f...HET'SHHHHH! ET'SHHHHH! Feel better. Excuse me." He turned over so he faced her. "You are everything to me, Molly. You are my life." He pulled her against his chest, so she could hear his heart beating.
"And you, Sam, are mine." She closed her eyes, listening to the sound of "O Holy Night" drifting through the bedroom window.
I'm officially addicted to this movie. LOL. I was thinking about writing a pre-Ghost story after I finished "Just a Little Luck", and I was given the boost by Smokeycat and niathecat . Thanks very much for your wonderful feedback and encouragement!