Ghosts of Christmas (Steamy Bwwm Holiday Romance)

Exactly what I needed.

All tension left my shoulders.

I relaxed in the water and let my negative emotions float off with the bubbles.

I must have drifted off to sleep in the tub because an odd sound filled the air—one that couldn’t be real. Music played. It sounded like a music box tune uncoiling on copper springs. I opened my eyes and the whole bathroom was dark.

Wait! What happened to the light?

A haunting green glow flickered along the doorway to the bedroom. And that music continued. It sounded like violins. And then children’s laughter rode the notes. Then the children spoke. I couldn’t make out any of the words. It was the mumblings of hushed notes.

What the hell is going on?

I rose from the bath and tried to grab the towel next to me. My hand went through it. I screamed and jumped back.

“No.” I shook my head and looked down at my body. I wore those same white pajamas. “Not again. This can’t be happening again.”

I looked back to the tub. My physical body was still in the water. My eyes were cold. A peaceful expression covered my face. Bubbles surrounded me like a white blanket.

“No. No. No.” I backed up. “This is not happening again. It’s not fucking happening again!”

A sweet male voice sounded from my bedroom. “Ivy, come.”

“What the fuck?”

“It’s time for your lesson.”

“Another lesson. That can’t be right.” I paced back and forth in the bathroom, refusing to go to where the voice was. “Another dream. Mom said in the first dream that I would get three ghosts. And it’s. . .happening. How? I figured this was just all bad dreams, but—”

“Ivy.”

I froze.

These aren’t dreams. These aren’t dreams.

“Ivy.”

Shaking, I stepped forward, noticing the odd glow of my feet. I held my hands in front of me. This time, they held a copper glow.

I entered my room. Lit candles covered the entire floor. Small, shadowed children danced along the wall, pirouetting, leaping, and twirling.

I widened my eyes and gaped at a huge man in front of me.

“There we go.” With outstretched arms, he stood in the center of the candles, wearing a bright green robe. White fur outlined the sleeves and some of the front. A black belt tied it all together. A crown of flowers and evergreen branches covered his head. He had black dreadlocks. Some of them were bunched up and braided on the side.“You’re. . .” I pointed at him. “You’re the second ghost.”

His voice was light and melodic. “Interesting. I was told that you were too hard-headed to teach, but you’re quite accepting.”

“Okay.” I held my hands to the side, trying to understand this. “Those last two dreams were real?”

“What is real?”

“No.” I shook my head. “We’re not doing that. I want to know if those moments were real or not because I figured they were crazy dreams. During this time of the year, I get crazy—”

“What is a dream?”

I glared at him. “Please.”

He took out white gloves and put them on. “Define a dream to me.”

“It is when. . .it really didn’t happen.”

“Dreams really do happen.”

I sighed. “But I mean, it is only happening in my head.”

“Everything only happens in your head.”

“Not in the waking moments.”

“The waking moments?” He laughed. The jolly sound rose in the room. “What is waking and what is dreaming? That is even a question I can’t answer.”

“Who could?”

“Whoever answers those questions.”

“You’re not giving me any answers.”

“You ask questions that assume answers within them. How can I answer those?”

“Okay.” I held my hands in the air. “My mother came to me while I was sleeping on a plane. We walked in the clouds and she told me ghosts were coming to teach me about love.”

The man nodded. “I am the second one.”

“So. . .this is really happening. This is real.”

“What is real?”

“Never mind.” I paced in my bedroom. “That wasn’t a question. It was a statement. So, wait a minute. I saw my mother?”

“You did.”

“That was actually her with the rope and bags attached to it?”

“It was.”

Stunned, I stared at him. “But. . .so. . .”

He smiled. “Are we done?”

“My mother is walking around in. . .this spirit world. . .with a rope around her neck?”

“She doesn’t truly walk. She more floats.”

“She didn’t go to. . .heaven or—”

“Don’t mention the other.” His brown face tinted red. “There’s no need to invite unnecessary beings our way.”

“Then, will I see my grandfather and grandmother too?”

“Perhaps, they are not in what you would call this spirit world. Maybe, they’ve moved on to where they belong.”

“Which is where?”

“Other lives. Other realms. Other moments in this living spiritual body that we call the universe.”

I didn’t know if that answered my question or further confused me. “My mother is in limbo?”

“I’ve heard her use that term.”

“Then, you’re in limbo?”

“If that is what you think of this realm.”