Haunting

Hot shower water soon had the bath fogging over. The uneasy feeling faded from Amber as she opened the shower doors and stepped in. Had she looked, Amber might have noticed something resembling fog materialize through the bath door. Jack smiled to him self, seeing his wife's firm buttocks enter the shower. The swirling mist of his essence drifted up and he watched Amber cleanse her body. A ghostly hand reached out and passed through Amber's shoulder. She shivered and quickly looked behind her.

Deep sorrowing thought entered Jack's mind - how cruel, how terrible fate was. Floating above his naked wife, he wanted but one simple thing. He wanted to touch her, to love her, and yet he knew that only through his son could he do that. The non-fog above Amber slowly faded. Jack was gone but, not without leaving a message. Unnerved, Amber decided to quickly end her shower. The thought, from the night before, hit her strongly – she had to see a psychiatrist!

Preoccupied with her inner thoughts and toweling off it was a few moments before Amber looked up at the vanity mirror and screamed. Although distorted, by rivulets of water, Jack's message remained on the fogged over mirror, I WANT YOU AMBER.

Amber ran from the room. She'd lost Jack; she was in danger of loosing her son and now felt her might be loosing her mind too. She'd never been to a shrink and the thought scared the hell out of her. She was still a bundle of nerves by the time the coffee was ready. Andrew had left for school and it was the only comforting thought she had. Surely, she thought, I'd really loose my mind if he were here to deal with.

Caffeine may not have been the best idea, considering her state of mind but, she poured a cup of coffee and sipped on it anyway. Amber had no idea of how to even to start a search for the professional she felt she needed. The only certain thought was that she would have to be honest and confide in this person. That's when Gwen, her college friend, came to mind.

Gwen had had "issues", as she called them, in the past and a weak smiled cross Amber's lips. "Gwen would know someone." She said aloud and set down her cup. Moments later Gwen answered Amber's call.

"Gwen? Thank God you're home." "Yes – yes it has." "He's fine...Yeah took Jack's death hard for awhile but now he seems to be doing better, thanks for asking." "Me? Well, I – I need your help Gwen. I think I have some...Issues Gwen. Who can I trust?"

Amber listened to Gwen intently, unconsciously nodding and shaking her head to questions asked by her friend. Occasionally, she replied with a yes or no but, gave out little information for Gwen's understanding.

"God, I'm so sorry Gwen but I just can't explain it. You said Rodgers – Dr. Ken Rodgers, is that right?"

Gwen reaffirmed the name; Amber thanked her again and, as an afterthought, invited her to lunch, in the near future. Amber knew it would never happen and she regretted having made the offer.

Chapter Seven

Resembling another famous doctor of his kind, Rodgers sat stroking his goatee, with crossed legs, sitting in his over stuffed office chair. With closed eyes, he listened to Amber pour out words of anger, frustration, fear and shame. Her words came out in blubbering torrents and in the end she broke down completely. Lying on the good doctors couch, Amber wailed, with hands covering her face. Her body heaved with her heavy sobbing. Rodgers waited, slowly opening his eyes.

"Let it go Mrs. Stockman." He commented softly and bent to hand Amber a Kleenex.

Slowly, Amber's crying died away and she chanced a look at Rodgers, seeing his offering. Her shaking hand clutched at the tissue and she quickly blew her nose. Rodgers settled back into his chair. "Would you like to continue?"

"Continue what? I'm insane – what's to continue? I think my dead husband has taken over my son. I let him have sex with me for God's sake!" Amber retaliated, in anger, snapping her head around to glare at the doctor.

"Mrs. Stockman, please – you are not insane. Your grief is obvious. I think you manifest that grief in your relationship with your son. You stated Andrew carries his father's looks – no?"

"Yes! Andy couldn't look more like Jack if he were Jack him self. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Quite simple my dear. You have never really experienced your own grief over Jack's death. Now, you see Jack in Andrew. You deny his death so completely that you are placing your son's mental health in jeopardy. Can you tell me how Andrew has been acting?"

Amber's demeanor turned calm. Her gaze remained on the doctor and in an eerie, almost overly calm, voice she responded. "That's just the point. He seems normal. He has sex with me in the kitchen – as Jack did so many times and then returns a short time later wanting to know what's for breakfast. Normal, like nothing happened." Amber's voice cracked and rose slighter higher as she finished.

"I suggest perhaps nothing did happen." Rodgers replied, shifting his position. "How do you feel about that?"

"Are you suggesting I made it up?"

"Quite the contrary, Mrs. Stockman. For you, I'm quite sure it was real. Our minds are capable of a great many strange things. Consider your deep longing for your dead husband. Do you find it so odd you might think of him in the most intimate of ways – as if he were still with you?"

Amber uncrossed her legs and sat up. Staring off at the far office wall, a cruel sort of smile bent her lips and she eased her feet to the floor. "Odd, doctor? No, I suppose I wouldn't consider that odd. How odd might you consider cleaning cum off the kitchen floor when Andy walked in that morning? Perhaps I imagined that too? Perhaps it really wasn't Andy. Perhaps Jack returned from the dead to throw one last fuck in me!" Amber was screaming at the doctor with her final words.

Kenneth Rodgers raised an eyebrow, as he pressed into the far side of his chair. Amber's out burst took him by surprise and, in a rare moment, he lost the ability to reply. Rodgers coughed once, looking a little uneasy and stood up. "Perhaps our session should end here. I would like you to consider what we have talked about Mrs. Stockman. I do suggest that you come back – say in three or four days, my secretary will handle the arrangements. Until then, I suggest you get some rest. Your son sounds as if he's adjusting and can take of minor things. Allow him to do so. It will give him a sense of responsibility. He needs your stability Mrs. Stockman and that won't happen if you are under constant pressure. Do you understand?" Rodgers voice sounded commanding towards the end of his parting speech. Amber could only nod. She felt tired and drain of emotion.

When Amber left the office, Dr. Rodgers went immediately to his library. "There must be a case history here. When was that again...?"

Amber turned off the car radio and slowly left the office parking lot. Tears formed in her eyes and she blinked them away sending the salty drops down her cheeks. With two quick swipes of her hand and a snotty sniffle, she drove off feeling no better than when she arrived.

"Why? I bared my soul. I told him everything. Get some rest! Please - what a crock of shit!" She announced out aloud, not caring who saw her talking to her self. "God damn it – I know what I know! Jack has come back and Andy is involved in it." As she verbalized her convictions a thought entered her mind. She changed direction and headed towards the cemetery and Jack's grave.

For a long period Amber sat in her car. She stared out over the well manicured grounds of the cemetery, looking at Jack's grave site. The earthen mound was all but gone now, new grass replacing it. Some time back, Amber had decided it unhealthy for Andrew and stopped her weekly visits. God Jack, I'm so sorry. She said mentally and finally opened the car door. The weakness she felt earlier had faded. With a deep breath, she began the short walk to Jack's grave.

After a short inspection, Amber knew she was alone in the cemetery. She had no qualms about talking out loud. "Jack? Jack, I know you can hear me. I know you're here somehow – you've come back. I know you love me Jack. I love you too but, you can't do this Jack! You can't use Andy like this! He's our son for God's sake – you can't use him to have sex with me."

The last words she spoke sent a shiver through her. She knew she spoke the truth. It was a sick truth but, the real truth none the less. Her knees buckled and she dropped to the ground, as tears ran down her face. "You can't – you can't." She blubbered and began to beat on the top of her husbands grave. Far off, unseen by Amber, an old couple looked in Amber's direction. "That poor woman." The wife said and shook her head in sadness.

It was near dark when Amber finally left the cemetery. A single over riding thought drove her. Doctor or no doctor she would get to the bottom of this. With her mind made up, she put her car into gear and sped away, heading for home. The how escaped her but, it was no deterrent.

Some forty minutes later, Amber pulled into the drive way and felt her stomach knot up. The strong resolve she'd maintained throughout her drive began to weaken. The car went silent after she pulled the key out and she remained, staring at the house she had once shared with Jack. It looked ominous now. For the briefest of moments, she thought of the movie, Amityville Horror. It was the opening of the movie that frightened her – the way they had presented the house. That evening, Amber looked her at home and felt an inner darkness flow through her. "You can't Jack." She muttered and opened the car door.

Chapter Eight

"Andrew? Anndy – I'm home!" She called out, immediately upon opening the front door. Amber wanted no surprises. She felt she must get to Andy before Jack did, if that were possible. Deep in her heart she felt she wouldn't stand a chance otherwise but, she had no clue as to how any of this was happening. The door closed behind her with a finality that made her jump. "Damn that movie." She cursed aloud. "Andy are you home?" She yelled out again.

A muffled voice answered back. It frightened her. It didn't seem quite right for Andy. It sounded too deep but, she dismissed the thought as silly. He was obviously up stairs, in his room. The distance just made it sound odd to her and she laughed uneasily. A weak, jittery laugh, as she took off her coat.

Some of Amber's determination returned. Still uncertain as to how she would approach Andy, she decided a stiff drink would help calm nerves on the edge of snapping. Her trembling hands managed to pour out a double shot of Brandy. Sighing, after a deep breath, she tipped the shot glass and started to drain it, unaware of being watched. The liquor heated her throat and as the last of the shot drained into her mouth a voice spoke behind her. A deep voice.

"I love you too. I've missed your visits." Amber choked on the last of the Brandy and spit the dark brown liquid out before whirling around. Her eyes screamed what her voice failed to do. Frantically, she clutched at the bar top behind her, cowering before her son and the voice of Jack. She was too late.

Andy stepped forward, with an out stretched arm, and cupped her cheek. Panic instantly gripped her, as Andy's face moved in closer. She clamped her eyes shut, feeling his warm hand on her cheek and then his lips on hers. Gentle, yet persistent, they remained until his probing tongue had prided her lips apart. Amber's protest was weak, trying to squirm from Andy's determined kiss.

His tongue found hers, flicking, licking, and dancing in a deep French kiss. The kiss ended all hope of protest. There was something all too familiar about it. She relaxed and succumbed to the sexual advance and what began as a muffled scream turned into a moan. Releasing the bar, her once, unwilling arms, now slowly rose to grip her sons body.

The kiss ended with something that Jack had loved to do - sucking on Amber's lower lip. As Andy withdrew, Amber's eyes opened and she searched his eyes. Jack was in there – he had to be. How else could Andy know? She thought, feeling panic, again, return.

"Don't be afraid, Amber. Andy understands – we're here together. We love you." Jack's voice spoke out calmly. Had he somehow read her mind? His words brought tears to her eyes. She trembled, unable to speak, trying to fathom how any of this was possible. Following a shuddering kind of breath, Amber quickly wiped the moisture from her eyes and cheeks, just as Jack spoke again.

I've missed your visits to my grave." Amber's hand went to her mouth - new shock registered on her face.

"How – how in God's name..." She began and then stopped. "God, I'm so sorry Jack – I should have come more often." Amber searched the eyes of her son, speaking directly to Jack. She searched for some sign – any sign, of Jack. It was Andrew that stared back, slowly blinking, as if he were pondering her last words. The silence was unnerving.

"Jack? Jack, are you there...Is it really you?" "Yeeesss." A deep voice responded and Andy's head leaned forward, finding her lips once again.

This time when they parted Amber was breathless. An unholy yearning welled up inside her and she blushed. Her shocked expression was replaced by a look of wonder – amazement even. She found her self, again, speaking directly to Jack. "Does he know Jack? Does he know what he's doing?" Amber whispered in a barely audible voice, afraid of the answer. Andy nodded.

"I want you – we want you Amber." Amber started to shake uncontrollably with the answer. Unable to help her self, another question entered her mind.

"Please, Jack I've got to know..." She hesitated, deeply, searching the eyes of her son for any sign of her husband and the words to continue. "How much does he know? Does he know everything we used to do?" The questions came out in rush and then she held her breath, certain she knew the answer.

"Yes." Jack again replied. "He is with me. He knows how to please you." "Oh God, oh my God Jack – no!" Andrew's lips curl up into a grin and his arms caught his collapsing mother. The revelation was too much – Amber fainted.

Chapter Eight

An hour later, Amber woke with a startled gasp, like someone breaching water after a long period beneath. Her stomach instantly knotted into a tight ball and she clamped her eyes tight against the pain. Memories raced through her mind, sending her back to the very beginning with Jack. The thrill of seeing and holding his penis for the very first time hit her. Jack had never forced anything on her but his boyish charm had worked its magic none the less. It was a time of "heavy petting", as it was known back then.

In Amber's mind it was her idea. Satisfying Jack's sexual needs with her hand gave way to eager and hungry lips. What her hand could never anticipate her mouth did and she quickly became an oral junkie, with a taste for cum. Goose bumps rose on her arms as her mind flashed through the time long ago.

Her minds eye captured the first time she had let Jack take off her panties. The first time his lips touched her pussy – her clit. Amber groaned. "Jesus, Andy knows all of it?" She was just sixteen then, Andrew's age.

Her mind raced faster. At seventeen, she recalled pushing Jack to move on. She'd left the house, that night, without underwear – a single purpose in mind. Jack was the one. She knew he'd always be the one. Her virginity was Jack's to take.

She never knew whether Jack's resistance was a ploy or real. In the end, when she had straddled his lap she was happier than she could ever remember. Jack was so gentle. In a blinding flash of pain and pleasure Amber welcomed Jack's penis inside her body. It became a physical drug. Just the thought of Jack's hard cock made her wet. As Amber relived the past days of wild, passionate, sex, Andrew was busy elsewhere in the house.

Her memory eventually zeroed in on three words - one last prize. They were words she had thought many years back. She shuddered hard, increasing her stomach pangs, recalling what the words had meant. "I begged him - begged for Christ sake!" She muttered to herself, as the night flashed through her mind. In July of that year, Amber had begged Jack to fuck her in the ass.

Amber clamped her hands over her face, just as a giddy, insane, sort of laugh started up. Mentally, she locked onto that distant time and how persistent she had been. Determined that Jack would have this 'one last prize' she urged and begged Jack to try and try. Several days later Amber was finally able to take Jack's penis – all of it. Her hands fell away from her face and she struggled to sit up. For the first time, she realized she was lying on her bed.

A distant sound – like a water fall, penetrated her occupied mind. Slowly, she became aware of fainting – talking with Jack, no...It was Andy she was talking to. "He knows how to please you." She said aloud, repeating the last words Jack had spoken to her. A wave of nausea swept through her body. It passed quickly and Amber eased her legs and feet from the bed. The floor, feeling solid, helped in some odd way and the water fall sound ended. An eerie silence ensued.

Weak, unsteady, legs slowly pushed her body up and off the bed, as she strained to pick up even the faintest of sound. There was nothing, except for the heavy beating of her heart. Her first step came with difficulty, scaring her. It took conscious effort to lift and move her foot. Gradually, she regained leg motion and slowly made her way through the bedroom. Her senses heightened and by the time she reached the doorway she was on full alert, ready to flee at the slightest provocation.

"Jack? Andy?" Her call reverberated briefly in the upstairs hallway. A warm glowing light -emanating from the partially closed bathroom door, caught her eye. A single long stride brought her to the opposite side of the hall, where fear demanded she, tightly, hug against it. Her breathing was shallow, her eyes alert. She called out again with less volume, feeling more apprehensive, before moving cautiously, down the hall, toward the bathroom door.

A quick glance into the room brought nothing alarming to her eyes, yet she found herself breathing rapidly, the fear increasing, as she, again, hugged the wall. Gradually, the scent of Lavender filtered from the room, bringing to life memories from the past. Steeling herself, Amber moved with cautious purpose and eased the door open, calling out for her son and then Jack. There was no answer. The mirror was fogged over, preventing her from seeing anything on the opposite side of the room. A step – two steps later, she chanced a quick look around the door and sighed with relief. She was alone.

The soft glow came from a multitude of lit candles. A bath had been prepared and Amber realized it was the source of the Lavender smell. Her defensive posture began to wane. The room enveloped her with flickering light, sensual smells and warmth. She focused on the bath. It seemed to need her – call to her. Moments later, she stood naked. Try as she might, she could place no conscious effort into undressing, it seemed to just happen. As she stepped into the hot bath, the bathroom door, silently, closed behind her.

Like her body, Amber's mind slowly unwound, as all thoughts of fear abated. Strangely, she never questioned the how or why to her current situation. Worse, she never once questioned who. Sensuality took over as the overriding emotion. Her eyes unfocused, as she grabbed a hair clip from the tub ledge. With a few quick hand flips, she tied her long hair back and eased down into the steaming bath water.

Jack, you naughty boy – I know what your after. She thought, sighing heavily. Her eyes slowly closed. Wet, slippery, fingers found her breasts. She savored their touch. Her nipples hardened, making them easy targets for her fingers. Slowly, carefully with a purpose only she knew, she raked her finger nails over their sensitive skin. In her mind it was Jack. She shuddered hard, sending the surface bath water into a tsunami like wake.