Spirit of Gettysburg: Soulmates Across Time

Chapter 3

Her mind wandered back to Vincent. She gritted her teeth. Vincent's cruel selfishness horrified her. She stubbornly held onto him for far too long. He was her first boyfriend and his good looks dazzled her. She was shy with men and leery of relationships, always comparing potential suitors to her courtly, kindhearted ghost. She knew it was ridiculous since they were alive and he was long dead.

Vincent appeared sincerely interested in her. His attention charmed her and she allowed him into her heart. She came to regret it. He soon revealed his real self beneath the suave exterior. Manipulative and debauched, he enjoyed humiliating her in every way possible.

Vincent...She shuddered and recalled their break-up last year. On a chilly evening last October she stood with Vincent in the geometrical, ebony and white designer kitchen of his expensive Georgetown mansion. They were going to an Embassy of Austria party. The conversation, as usual, concerned her helping her mother and the less fortunate.

Maureen gunned the engine and sped around a sharp curve.

Vincent's words still shocked her. "Granted, she has terminal cancer but I'm stunned you're moving back with her. She's a drunk, a whore and a bitch. After all you've done for her has your mother ever helped you once? No! Your mother and I use that term lightly, thanks you by constantly taking, whining and criticizing you."

"She needs me. I'm helping her. She is poor, alone and dying."

Maureen gulped and stared at her perfectly manicured, coral painted fingernails. Her beautiful nails delighted her. A life-long, compulsive, nail-biting habit was finally conquered and they looked lovely. 

Maureen gunned the engine and sped around a sharp curve. 

Vincent's words still shocked her. "Granted, she has terminal cancer but I'm stunned you're moving back with her. She's a drunk, a whore and a bitch. After all you've done for her has your mother ever helped you once? No! Your mother and I use that term lightly, thanks you by constantly taking, whining and criticizing you."

"She needs me. I'm helping her. She is poor, alone and dying."

"You're a regular Mother Teresa! Your mother isn't your problem any longer. Let her live on food stamps instead of mooching off of you. The old hag is a parasite. Why do you continually help her? Answer me! I don't understand you.

"You're an enigma. A picklock can't open your protected heart. I've tried. Your emotions are locked tighter than Fort Knox. You're an ice-queen except where animals are concerned. I won't mention the disgusting strays you rescue and nurse back to health. They recognize a sucker when they see one. They're nothing but dirty, homeless beggars. You love them more than you do me and where money is concerned you're the Titanic hitting the iceberg. You only crave God, peace, solitude and food. If you do move back home to nurse your mother, we're done. You're creating an impossible and heavy situation. Speaking of heavy," he eyed her, "you've gained weight." He wiggled his fingers in her face. "Fatties disgust me."

Author's Note:  Next Chapters Tuesday!

Question:  Can ghosts comfort those they have loved before?