The Ghostly Diva by Sandra L. Young

Author:Sandra L. Young [Young, Sandra L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC009050 FICTION / Fantasy / Paranormal
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2024-01-16T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

Liza, May 1980

Liza paced the floor of the budget motel room, alternately snuggling and bouncing a fussy Jackson in hopes he would settle. Jewel had suggested he might be teething, and she’d bought him a rubber ring to chew on. Sometimes the diversion helped, but today he spat it out multiple times. The baby was good natured, but definitely could show a stubborn streak.

Of all days, why couldn’t he show a docile side when he was about to meet his father? Though in truth, Liza figured his daddy would respect the early show of strength from his first male offspring.

Her own weakness had seeped through, spending a half hour deciding between a dozen tiny baby outfits. A zip-front jacket won out, with pants covered in baseballs and bats. The powder-blue brought out his eyes—the startling shade that captivated her when she met his father.

Since the brief glimpse at the hospital, they hadn’t dared meet. Over the past six months, he called three times and sent a trio of discreet envelopes of cash. Each phone conversation passed too quickly, hushed and furtive. She knew his risk in being caught.

Her heart soared a week ago, when he whispered, “I want to see him. Please. Can we meet at the Palmetto Motel on Grant Boulevard at noon next Thursday?”

To avoid a trail, she booked the room. The next envelope would cover the extra expense.

Liza dressed with care, too, full aware with the baby in the room there’d be no intimacy. A feisty little part of her couldn’t help playing up her figure, which she worked hard to regain through dieting and exercise. In contrast, his demanding wife had a paunch after the birth of their three daughters.

She peered at the bedside alarm clock. Ten minutes late. Jackson sniffled and rubbed chubby fists against his cheeks, his weight growing heavy in her arms. No way would she lay him on the flowered spread covering the mattress. The place provided discretion, not ambiance or cleanliness. His face began to crumple. “Oh, my sweet, sweetheart.” She paced across the worn brown carpet rubbing his back.

Two sharp taps sounded at the door. The baby’s head shot up and he wailed. “Shhh, shhh,” she soothed. “Daddy’s here.”

Unfamiliar nerves knotted her insides as she checked the peephole and unbolted the door. She snuck a finger inside the baby’s mouth for him to chew on. Thankfully, he quieted as the visitor entered and quickly pushed the door shut.

While she’d undergone transformations over fifteen months, he looked the same: tall, lean, with handsome, patrician features. For several moments they stared at each other, the child seeming oblivious. A burst of emotion left her speechless. Yearning. They couldn’t be together, but she also couldn’t extinguish the intensity of the feelings. Hadn’t really tried. She still loved him, still desired him, and knew he felt the same.

His gaze stripped her bare, but neither of them spoke. Liza dropped her eyes first and shifted to bring their baby’s features into his full view. Would he see himself in them? He moved forward and reached out a tentative hand.

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