A Ghost's Story. Jenna Lynn Bretz
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I fold in on my memories so I can relive them. I can still feel his arms around me. The way it felt to be held by him.
We cleaned, pulled up floors, and knocked down walls. I found myself lost just watching Stanley work. He would catch me staring at him, and it would always make him blush.
“You are so damn sexy, Mr. Epstein.”
“Why thank you, Mrs. Epstein.”
And he was! He had such a handsome body. Defined muscle, not like a bodybuilder or anything, just perfectly toned and so strong. He never lost his ability to make my heart race. But he was always so calm and collected. I would have to come up with new inventive ways to make him lose his composure.
Stanley was hanging shelves in the kitchen. So I walked in wearing nothing but his tool belt. His jawbone tightened as he dropped his hammer. He grabbed me and pulled me into him. His breath was hot against my neck as he removed the tool belt and lifted me to the counter. We would lose ourselves in each other. We desired one another, consumed one another, our bodies melting into one.
The taste of him, I long for it. Even now.
Afterward, Stanley stared at me, running his index finger from the top of my head down to the soles of my feet, touching each part of me as he traveled. His touch was light and tender. His gaze unwavering. He would study my body, taking in every part of me. He made me feel so beautiful.
The pale blue walls in the living room…I drift through the rooms of this house as my memories take me there.
I was painting the living room. We agreed on a light pale blue, almost white. Stanley came in, dipped his hands in the paint, and smeared it all over my shirt.
“Look there, Juliet. You should take that off right away before it’s ruined.”
I met his smile with a devilish grin. “You’re right, Mr. Epstein, I’ll need to soak this right away,” I said, pulling off my shirt.
“It is so hot that you don’t wear a bra.” He reached for my breasts. “Let me help you out of those shorts, Mrs. Epstein.”
Afterward, we lay there laughing and talking when suddenly we heard a knock at the door and a familiar voice.
“Your mother!”
We scrambled to get our clothes back on. Stanley’s face was covered with blue paint. I had blue handprints all over my body. He smiled at me and went to the foyer to greet his mother. “Hey, Mom.”
“Stanley! What happened to you? Did you fall? Are you okay?”
“No, Mom, I’m fine. Just getting some painting done with Juliet.”
Her face turned a deep shade of red as I rounded the corner and joined Stanley.
“Juliet dear, you two better hope that is water-based paint. I just stopped by to bring over some wedding gifts that arrived today. These are from Stanley’s relatives in Israel. The ones who couldn’t make it to the wedding.”
“Thank you so much for bringing them all the way out here.”
“Well, it looks like you two are enjoying the renovations.”
Stanley put his arm around his mother. “Mom, thank you for stopping by. Let me walk you out.”
Stanley winked at me and followed his mother out the door.
I watch as the door closes. I am alone in this house. Our house.
* * * * *
I woke and turned to find that Stanley had already left. There was a note on the pillow: “Juliet, I didn’t want to wake you. You look too beautiful lying there to disturb you. I had to be at the hospital early today, sorry about that. Really want to spend some time together this evening. I love you.”
My mind was racing. Suddenly, New York didn’t feel so exciting anymore. I began to wonder if it was really what I wanted. I felt so complete lying there next to Stanley, feeling his chest rise and fall with every breath. I never wanted it to end. I slept more comfortably and felt safer than I had ever felt. I got up, got ready for work, and headed toward the door. There on the arm of the chair in the living room was Stanley’s tie. I picked it up. It smelled like Stanley.
“Juliet, get it together, girl. You have plans, you can’t get hung up on some guy.”
The truth was that I was more than hung up on Stanley. I had given my feelings for him the freedom to do what they wanted. I felt no regret. I only felt the need for more of him. My heart raced in my chest with excitement. Stanley loved me, and I loved him.
I walked out of my apartment, unaware that it would be the last time.
I felt an electrifying pain surge through my head. I wasn’t sure what was happening. Then I felt it again. I reached for the back of my head and felt the warmth of my blood trickling down my neck. A tingling sensation began to fill my skull, and darkness closed in around me. Cold black eyes were the last thing I remember.
* * * * *
Beep, beep, beep…
Where was that coming from? I opened my eyes. The light was so intense, I had to close them again. The pain. I hurt everywhere. I opened my eyes again. The room was white. I could see what appeared to be shadows of people. I closed them again. My throat burned. I tried to talk, but nothing came out. I could feel something in my throat. The beeping became more rapid. I tried to lift my hand, but I couldn’t. Something restrained me.
What the hell is going on?
But no one answered; I couldn’t speak. I opened my eyes again and tried to make out where I was. I couldn’t lift my head. There he was. Stanley was standing over me smiling. The whites of his eyes, red and dark circles beneath them. His face covered with a heavy stubble from the lack of shaving. I couldn’t hear him, but I could see his lips moving. He was holding my hand, which was tied down with something. My mother now joined Stanley. I could see tears rolling down her cheeks. Why was she crying? Liam and Angela were there too. Liam’s face was contorted with worry. I didn’t know what was going on. Liam left the room, then returned with what appeared to be a doctor. He shined a flashlight into my eyes. I squinted and tried to jerk my head away. Everyone smiled. I closed my eyes.
I could feel the warmth of a hand against my cheek. I struggled to open my eyes and focus on the face before me.
“Stanley.” My throat burned, but I was able to speak.
“Shhh, don’t try to talk. You were intubated. You had a tube down your throat. That’s why it’s hard to talk. Let your throat heal, and then you can talk.”
“Where am I?”
“You are in the hospital, baby.”
“Why? What happened to me?”
“Juliet,