Naomi

There it was again.

She might have missed it, for it had happened so quickly.

Naomi figured she would keep it a secret from others for now; the strange, inexplicable noises and glimpses of shadows that lurked, barely in her line of vision. Yet another amazing thing she could add to her list of reasons why she had fallen in love with her new home.

A gigantic sigh escaped her lips. So this was what it felt like to own her own house. Who said she needed to wait around for the perfect man in order to achieve her dreams? Nope, she took the horse by the reins and fulfilled one of the most important items on her grown—up to—do list. So what if she didn't have the furniture she desired most? This charming 1700s saltbox house had come already furnished, so she took advantage of the fact that she could save some money for better purposes.

Glancing out the large window in her dining area, Naomi took in the vast graveyard beyond; the gray sky compounded the dreary feel of the scenery. Fall was in the air, from the dancing amber leaves to the crisp wind. Some might be spooked to have a cemetery practically in their backyard, but she didn't mind. As a matter of fact, she quite enjoyed being this close to so many spirits. It was oddly comforting. Oh, the tales they could tell, the lives they had led. If only she could communicate with them—she would have a million questions about the plentiful experiences during each of their lives. Naomi supposed her vivid imagination was one of the reasons she had gone into the field of writing to begin with.

Tales of this area being rich in history had been the selling point for her. Taking another peek outside, Naomi rubbed her hands together. She couldn't wait to dive into some extensive research about her own house and the mysterious souls who were laid to rest beyond her window. It also served another purpose: taking her mind off her recent worries.

Sharp rapping on the door jolted her from the dark thoughts. Amy must be early again. Early and late, the two best friends couldn't be more different. It wasn't that Naomi purposely arrived late everywhere she went, but somehow life just seemed to get in the way. Like the time she was hurrying for her job interview when she was eighteen, and she got stuck at a never—ending freight train, which seemed to be transporting endless supplies to the entire northeast. It wasn't the first or last job interview she had been late for. Or how about when she and Amy had gone on a double date and her cat escaped seconds before she was leaving the house? What was one to do, let the cat run away?

"Hi, I see you're early as usual. Come on in, I'm not ready yet."

"What happened this time? Zelda's missing again?" Amy smirked, eyes searching the kitchen for the black cat.

"Need I remind you that you're early? And no, she's in the living room." Sure enough, as if she heard her name being called, Zelda strutted into the kitchen, rubbing her long, fluffy black fur all over Amy's tan pants.

"Oh, great. Zelda, you know how much I love you, but really, my best slacks?" Amy sighed as she grabbed the pet hair roller Naomi kept on the kitchen shelf, just for her friend, to remove the cat hair.

"How does the cat hair not bother you? Every time I see you, you've got Zelda's black fur flying off you," Amy exclaimed, waving her arms through the air.

"Give me a second and we'll get going," Naomi called as she was running for the stairs. She stopped short.

Again. A flash of a shadow. It was there. Then it was gone. It wasn't the first time she had witnessed the peculiar phenomenon and she was sure it wouldn't be the last. Naomi figured it could be her imagination, but then again, it could also be due to the fact she lived on this eerie piece of property. Naomi had never witnessed evidence of ghosts prior to living here, so her gut told her something was amiss. No bother, though, thoughts of a resident spirit intrigued her. At least it wouldn't be boring here.

Amy. Shoot. She sprinted into her bedroom to finish getting ready.

This would be the last, the very last blind date she would allow Amy to drag her to. Geez, she and Amy were only twenty—eight years old; what was the rush, especially since she and Nick had only recently split. Nick. He hadn't been right for her, and his jealous ways had finally provoked her to end their tumultuous two—year relationship. Anxious thoughts came to mind before she pushed the troublesome images away.

The last guy Amy had subjected her to have been allergic to cats and had "politely" informed her that if the relationship were to continue, she would need to find a home for her cat. Imagine that! She had abruptly stood and excused herself from the remainder of the date, leaving an open—mouthed Amy with both the man and her own date. Giggling at the memory, Naomi could practically hear her friend shrieking into her cell phone, complaining that she should have at least tried to make it through the end of the date and that the rest of her evening had been quite awkward as Naomi's date had stayed on—and even ate half of her appetizer.

"I'm ready," Naomi called, out of breath from sprinting down the stairs.

"Oh my God, look at you! Where's your brush?" Naomi's long, dark—brown hair was forever unkempt.

"Oh, just a sec," she called as she made her way to the bathroom. Glancing in the mirror, she didn't think her hair looked half bad, but she smoothed it down with her brush nonetheless.

"This is..." Naomi began, as they headed toward Amy's car.

"This is the last time." Amy finished her sentence with a chuckle. "I've heard it before."

"But this time I mean it." With a huff, she settled into the car.

"Heard that before too." Amy fired up the car and they headed to the nearby river town to meet up with their dates.

It was kind of cool the way Amy arranged for them to arrive together. Most didn't seem to mind the set—up and Naomi knew the reason why Amy insisted upon these double dates. Naomi wouldn't go on her own. Dating just wasn't high on her list of priorities; she was free for the first time in years and was kind of enjoying the solitude.

Amy was a master at stirring up these dates; some she found on internet sites, while others she found during the course of her day. At times, Naomi wished she were as outgoing as her best friend, for she found herself tongue tied if an attractive man was nearby and usually clammed up and avoided eye contact. Not exactly a magnet for men.

"Now this one I have a really good feeling about," Amy started as she turned the wheel, steering the car into the parking lot of the restaurant by the river.

"Oh, if I had a dollar for every time I heard that one." A small huff escaped Naomi's lips. Amy had basked in the role of matchmaker long before Nick had even come into the picture. Nick. The negativity that surrounded thoughts of him was suddenly intense, as if a heavy dark cloud had found its way into her head. Too heavy, she pondered, and much too dark. Naomi considered herself to be a strong woman, but when her thoughts wandered to Nick, she had a hard time shaking that feeling of dread.

"Yeah, yeah. Open mind this time, right?" Amy coached as they walked up to the entrance.

"Who picked this place? I'm a struggling author, remember?" Glancing around at the perfectly landscaped property with a stunning view of the Hudson River, she sighed.

"I did. I told you I think this one is special, and don't worry. The lunch menu won't kill you, it's the dinner prices that get you." With her shoulders back, Amy reviewed the pertinent information regarding Thomas. He was a divorced insurance salesman with a five—year—old son. Naomi wasn't sure if she was up to the roll of being a stepmom, but then again, she was getting ahead of herself here, wasn't she? It was a date, just a date.

Settling down at the table in the back of the room, they waited. "See that, all the pressure you put on me and they're late." A few minutes later, a handsome—scratch that, very handsome—man with wavy black hair walked through the door. "Whoa."

"That's not him," Amy stated through clenched teeth. "But it's nice to see that you're still interested in men. Keep your head in the game. Look, here's my date." Amy waved the guy over to the table.

Naomi's eyes were still on the dark—haired guy as he found a seat alone at the bar. She didn't even notice Amy's date until he plopped himself down across the table from her.

"Naomi. Earth to Naomi."

"Oh, sorry. Hello, nice to meet you." She met his extended hand with her own and noted how limp and sweaty his handshake was.

"Naomi, this is Peter. Peter, my friend, Naomi."

"Nice to meet you," Peter responded with a nervous half smile.

It was never a good sign when someone showed up late for a first date. Obviously her date couldn't care less about first impressions. She bit her fingernails as she attempted to participate in the conversation between Amy and Peter.

Boring.

This chitchat was plain tedious. One of the endless reasons she hated getting to know someone new. It took so much time and effort. Plain exhausting is what it was. Almost better to be alone.

Ten minutes later, her date arrived dressed in a business suit. Hmm. Naomi liked her men a bit more casual.

"Hi, everyone. I'm Thomas. I apologize for being late. I was with an important client." Thomas puffed his chest out as he ran a slender hand through his short hair.

Naomi addressed him with a cool stare. This guy had the word tool practically dripping off of him. Naomi tried not to glance at the clock on the wall, but it loomed over her. Tick, tick, ticking. Thinking that she'd rather be home reading a good book, with Zelda curled by her feet, she forced a stiff smile.

Somewhere over the course of the conversation, she heard something that caught her attention. Not very good at faking conversation, she noted Amy's icy stare as she responded to Thomas's comments with the most enthusiasm she could muster, which was not much. It wasn't that she was being rude, but when a man just went on and on about how much money he made, his ex—wife, and so on, she zoned out. But she did hear mention of the word pet.

"I have the most adorable cat, she's all black..."

"You have a cat? Ooh, I don't like cats." Thomas frowned, shaking his head. Tightening her fists, her first instinct was to bolt straight out the door. But Amy seemed to be enjoying herself just fine, and she didn't wish to ruin her friend's date. However, she could take a break. A much needed break.

"If you'll excuse me? I need a drink." Jumping to her feet, Naomi headed straight for the bar. Giggling to herself, she heard Thomas ask if she was actually going to drink at lunchtime. Well, yes, she was, but normally she didn't.

She had almost forgotten about the handsome man still seated at the bar. He had a glass of red wine in his hand, twirling the stem of the glass with his fingers. His eyes were glued to the television set.

"I'll have what he's having." Naomi clutched her purse as she placed her order with the bartender. The man raised his eyebrows, his eyes locked with hers. Naomi swallowed. Hard.

"I hope you like a good merlot."

She didn't care if he was drinking gasoline, she realized. "Oh, yes, I do."

"My name's Ryan. Nice to meet you."

The bartender gently placed her merlot in front of her. As she reached for her purse, Ryan told the bartender that he was buying.

"Thank you. You didn't have to do that." Naomi felt her face flush.

"It's my pleasure. I didn't catch your name."

"Naomi. I'm Naomi."

"To you, Naomi. I hope you have better dates ahead," Ryan announced, touching his glass with hers.

She gulped. It was a great thing to toast to, but how did he know about the status of her date?