This is my entry for the Valentine's Day contest. I would appreciate your vote and a comment.
{I wrote this one for you.}
"This."
The voice was very, very quiet, almost felt rather than heard. A low rumbling tone, barely perceptible, but definitely male, sounded in her head. As Kellyn Morgan followed the aisle in Alexander's Department store back to the housewares section, she heard the voice again.
"This."
Kellyn looked around, trying to find the source of the voice. There was no one nearby. The lingerie section where she'd stopped was deserted; the Valentine's Day display of lacy little things meant to entice passersby was devoid of customers. She turned and her fingers brushed across a bit of pale pink silk.
"Yes."
Ah, she thought, a new advertising campaign. Quite clever, it certainly got her to stop. Kellyn wondered how it worked, something with motion detection, she guessed. She really didn't need a new bra, but it was pretty. Very pretty, she thought, fingering the dainty little thing of frills and froth. Ah, but she was strictly a white cotton camisole girl and so walked on down the aisle.
She was certain it was merely the heating system kicking in, but the sound was quite reminiscent of a male sigh of disappointment and frustration. It was just a trick of the acoustics, but the sound seemed to follow her as she picked out a shower curtain and a few new towels.
Her selection in hand, Kellyn walked toward the counter to pay for them. She had no intention of stopping by that lingerie area again, but still, she paused in front of the display once more. Wispy creations of silk and lace, bras, panties and camisoles, were hung on a small rack. A raised platform next to it held a leather desk chair, draped with a man's suit jacket, one high-heeled red shoe resting on the seat. A bit of white lace, panties perhaps, spilled out from the breast pocket of the suit. A simple tableau, but one quite evocative of an evening of romance and seduction.
Oh, Kellyn thought, if I had an evening like that to look forward to, I'd buy that lingerie in an instant.
"You do."
Kellyn shivered, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up, almost as if an invisible finger brushed across them. This was definitely not part of a clever ad campaign or the furnace kicking in or her imagination. She could hear the voice, a male voice, in her head and feel his breath on the side of her neck.
She whipped around, looking for the source, a hidden speaker, a man standing too close beside her, something, anything, but the area was still empty. One of the bras, the pink one with the white lace, was now dangling from the stack of towels she carried. I must have caught my arm on the hanger when I turned so fast.
Or, she thought, it's a ghost. Kellyn was surprised at this idea. She was not given to such flights of fancy. She was usually a down-to-earth woman with both feet planted firmly on the ground. Normally, even the idea of a ghost would not have crossed her mind. Today, for some reason, was different. The voice she was hearing needed some sort of explanation and "ghost" seemed to fit.
Kellyn smiled at the idea of a ghost haunting a department store. At least it's a ghost with good taste, she thought as her curiosity got the better of her and she checked the tags before she put it back on the rack. Hm, she thought, just my size and on sale, too. Ah, but it's not really me...
"Yes, it is."
The voice was more insistent now, a slight edge of exasperation in the tone. A rather impatient ghost, Kellyn thought as she looked at the bra once more. It was a pretty thing and, mentally checking her wallet, since it's on sale, I can afford it. She untangled the hanger from the others on the rack and added it to the towels.
"Panties."
Kellyn almost giggled. She found the whole idea of a ghost choosing her underwear to be amusing. Of course, the ghost wanted her to buy the matching panties. They were practically invisible. She looked on the rack and found her size.
Okay, but I'm drawing the line at the garter belts, she thought. Somehow she was not surprised at all by the groan of disappointment that followed.
Kellyn paid for her things and headed for the front entrance. She paused at the doors, waiting for another word or two from the ghost, but she heard nothing. She resisted the urge to turn around and look for him one last time, pushed open the door and crossed the chilly parking lot to her car.
She wasn't exactly sure what alerted her to his presence in the car with her. It could have been a slight change in the air pressure inside the vehicle. Maybe a faint scent of male cologne she first attributed to samples tucked inside the shopping bag, but when the now-familiar voice whispered in her ear, she really wasn't surprised at all. That didn't mean, though, that she didn't slam on the brakes a bit too hard as she pulled into the driveway. Any swear words she might have used then were completely justified as far as she was concerned.
"What are you doing?" she asked, a quite understandably screechy tone crept into her voice. "You're the store's ghost, not mine!"
"No."
"What do you mean, 'no'? Of course you are. I'm a perfectly normal, perfectly boring woman. I can't have a ghost! I live in a studio apartment. I don't even own a white nightgown!"
"Uh?" The confusion in the ghost's voice was readily apparent even in that short utterance.
"I read books. Whenever there's a ghost, there's always a castle and there's always a silly girl running down a dark hill in a flimsy white nightgown. No castle. No nightgown. No ghost. It's as simple as that."
"Oh?"
Kellyn didn't like that faint tone of male skepticism and amusement she heard. "Listen, ghost. It's too cold to stay out here and argue with a figment of my imagination or whatever you are. I'm tired and I'm hungry and since I don't have a date for Valentine's Day, I plan on dining with Mrs. Campbell and curling up with my kindle. You are not in my plans." With that, Kellyn gathered up her things and went into the building.
She tossed the bag on her bed and shrugged out of her coat. She kicked off her shoes and stripped out of the clothes she'd put on early that morning. She'd worn them long enough. Tonight was a night for her fuzzy slipper socks and comfy jammies.
Kellyn shook the contents of a soup can into an oversized mug, added the requisite can of milk and popped it into the microwave.
"Ah. Mrs. Campbell."
Kellyn gave a little squeak and dropped the red and white labeled can on the counter. She took a deep breath and slowly turned around, half expecting to see someone in her small apartment. There was, of course, no one there.
No one, but a very persistent ghost, she amended.
"I thought I left you in the car."
"Cold."
Of course it's cold. It's the middle of February. Thanks to that stupid groundhog, we're in for six more months of winter --"
"Weeks."
"I know it's weeks." Now it was her turn to be exasperated. "It just seems like months. Okay? Months and months of dark and cold weather and hearts and flowers and true love and --"
The timer on the microwave dinged. She took the steaming mug of soup to the table and flipped open her kindle.
"Love?"
"Uh, no thanks. Been there, done that, as they say. It didn't work out. And as long as I avoid the radio which will be playing syrupy ballads all night and the television which will undoubtedly interrupt a sappy movie with even sappier commercials for engagement rings, I'll be perfectly happy." Her speech finished, Kellyn sipped from the mug and tried to concentrate on the murder mystery unfolding on the small screen.
She soon found it was almost impossible to concentrate on the story. The ghost gave no sign of his presence, made no sound, but still she knew he was there someplace. After staring at the kindle for several minutes and having no recollection at all of what she'd read, Kellyn sighed and closed the cover. She drank the last of her soup and rinsed the mug in the sink.
Only eight o'clock she thought as she looked at her watch. Hours and hours before she'd be tired enough to go to sleep. Maybe a movie would help. She swiveled the television around until it was facing the bed, made herself comfortable and grabbed the remote from the bedside table. The whirring jumble of color and the low rumble and roar of automobile engines filled the room.
"Yes."
"Oh, no," said Kellyn and she flipped to the next channel. Football. No. Reality television. No. Game show. No. Flip. Flip. Flip. Finally Kellyn found an old black and white movie to watch.
