“What essay?”
“I’m asking them to write about their family lineage,” she said. “Their Acadian ancestry in particular, if that’s their history.”
“In case you’re wondering, I’m betting none of your students know anything about our ancestors living in this place during the Civil War.”
“That’s not the reason I-” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, all right, our current dilemma did make me wish we had better records of our family history, and I decided to help them learn their own histories too.” She shrugged. “Nothing wrong with that.”
“Poor kids.” He dropped into a chair at the table. “And do you need the entire pot of coffee?”
She huffed out a breath, but grabbed a ceramic mug from the dish rack and poured one cup of coffee from her thermos. “Because you’re helping me, I’ll sacrifice a cup. And because you’ve been a literal pain in the ass lately.” She hesitated, then added, “Listen, I know it was tough when she crossed, but brooding isn’t going to help. Finding out whether this house had anybody in it during the Civil War, however, just might.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. How exactly is that helping me, again?”
“We both know the Vicknairs wouldn’t have left this place empty. And you know that you can figure out who was here. I haven’t seen a puzzle yet that you couldn’t solve.”
He nodded. “Right, but what has that got to do with helping me with my current situation?”
“You know, for someone so smart, sometimes it takes you a while to catch on.” She took a sip from the thermos, then put the lid back on. “I’m keeping you busy, and when you’re busy, you don’t think about it.”
“About her, you mean,” he corrected. “I don’t think about her. And you’re wrong. I still think about her.” He took a deep breath, exhaled.
“But?”
Dax shook his head. “Hell, you’re right, to a point. Working on this house stuff is keeping my mind off of my situation, somewhat.” He looked up at Nan, leaning against the counter with her thermos now tucked under one arm. “But my mind’s never completely off of it, Celeste.”
She frowned. “You mean Nanette.”
“Right.”
“At least you called me somebody that I know you like.” She laughed, but Dax didn’t. How was he supposed to live the rest of his life without seeing Celeste again? And hell, he never even told her how he felt.
“Dax?”
“Yeah.”
“I really do appreciate you helping me with this.”
“I know you do, and I appreciate your reason for trying to keep me busy. But I still think this shouldn’t be a two-person show. This is their heritage too, you know.” Dax knew he and Nanette were the two best suited for finding the information they needed; he simply felt like complaining about the other cousins. It was a much-needed break from brooding.
“Monique and Ryan are getting set up in their new house, and Ryan’s starting his new roofing job, so they’re busy. Tristan is working at the firehouse. Between her college classes and trying to raise money for the Seven Sisters Shelter, Jenee doesn’t have time to help. And…”
“And?”
“And they aren’t really your problem. You’ve got to get over it-get over her-on your own. Get your mind on something else. Sure, working on finding our house’s history will help, but why don’t you go out, too. Before this summer, you were out with someone different all the time. You haven’t even been on a date since she left, have you?”
“Your point?”
“Half the women in the parish would jump at the chance to go out with you, and you’re sitting around in an eternal stag mode, pining over a woman you can never have. I think it’s about time you got out of that self-induced funk.”
“I sure hope you’re kinder to your students.” He took a big sip of coffee and enjoyed the strong taste of chicory on his tongue.
“Nope, I pretty much lay it all on the line.” She smiled, and Dax couldn’t help but reciprocate. Nanette had one of those killer grins that just made him feel better, even if he really wasn’t in the mood to feel all that much better now.
He took another sip of coffee and could already feel the strong surge of caffeine giving him a jolt.
“You know, you could go out tonight, and then search for more information later,” she said. “There are a couple of teachers at the high school who have asked if you’re still avail-”
Dax held up a hand. He didn’t want to be fixed up, especially not with Nanette’s coworkers. It’d be way too easy for her to get the sordid details, and he wasn’t about to be high-school teacher lounge fodder. More than that, he could have a date every night of the week, with a different female every night, and could damn well get lucky each and every time…and it wouldn’t help. That was another reason for his current state of frustration. He needed a good all-night bout of hot and heated, wild and wicked, no-holds-barred sex, but he didn’t want it with anyone except Celeste. And he’d never even touched her.
But he’d sure dreamed about touching her, and doing a lot of other things to her, too. How was he supposed to move on to breathing females, when he had it so bad for a ghost? And a crossed-over one at that?
“Just so you know,” he said, “I’ve got a spirit coming, so I probably don’t need to go out tonight, and I’m not sure how much time I’ll have to search for Civil War Vicknairs.”
There, maybe that’d get Nanette off his back about dating, or lack thereof.
As he suspected, word of a ghost coming got her attention. She placed her thermos on the counter. “You’ve got a spirit on the way? Boy or girl?”
Even though they’d never officially decided to specialize in certain spirits, each Vicknair cousin always seemed to get the same type of ghostly visitors. Dax, for example, typically helped children to cross over. Now was no exception. The soft giggles he’d heard all day confirmed that a little girl was on her way. “Girl.”
“I haven’t had an assignment in three months,” Nan said, her disappointment evident.
“Maybe Grandma Adeline is giving you a break until the school year is further along. The beginning is always the most difficult for you, isn’t it? When you’re starting to learn the new students and all?” he said. Nanette tended to worry more than the other cousins when she went too long without being asked to help a ghost cross over. Dax suspected that she actually judged her self-worth by the number of ghosts she helped to cross. Oddly enough, she was happier when she got a visit from a ghost in trouble. It wasn’t that she liked knowing the ghost was having a hard time; it was simply that she liked helping. That was just the way she was, and was probably the reason she’d gone into teaching in the first place.
“Maybe,” she said, still frowning.
“Anyway, I’ve got a little girl coming, so I’ll search the Net for more information until she gets here, but once she does, I’ll need to spend my time with her.”
“Of course.” Nanette picked her thermos back up, glancing at the clock. “Ghosts always come first, and maybe I’ll get another one soon.”
Dax nodded, knowing that Nanette would be thrilled to cut parent-teacher conferences short in order to help a spirit. But if she hadn’t heard thunder today, her sign that spirits were on the way, it probably wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
He held up his mug as she started to pass, and she topped off his coffee. Then the giggling got louder, and he closed his eyes to hear the little girl.
“Your ghost?” Nanette asked.
“Yeah.”
“You should go see if you have a letter yet,” she said, referring to the lavender-tinted notes their grandmother sent from the other side to inform them of their medium assignments. The envelopes were always left in the same place, on the silver tea service in the sitting room, and would tell Dax the identity, and the requirement for crossing, of the child whose giggle had overpowered his thoughts.