In Sickness and in Death by Jaye P. Marshall

I’ll start a Florence Nightingale clan.”
    He shrugged. “Why not? There are worse things you could do. Besides what could be better than taking care of people who need your expertise?”
    “You make me sound so noble .”
    He shrugged. “It’s a noble profession. What can I say?” His eyes serious, he gazed at her for a long minute.
    She smiled at him and took a sip of her drink.
    “Adrienne?”
    “Hmm,” she said sexily.
    “You know, I really like you. We seem to have a lot in common.”
    “Yes, we do, don’t we?”
    “Look, my parents are having a party this Saturday night. I’d like you to come and meet them.”
    Her eyes sparkled. “Oh, Alan, I’d love to!”
    Brian watched what appeared to be a budding romance and wondered how he could make Adrienne understand just how wrong she was in what she was doing. He needed to come up with something that would really get her attention. But what could he do?
    At last, a picture came to him. That night when Adrienne was soundly sleeping, he began to formulate the vision in his mind.
    He conjured up his own ghost. When it was clear and vivid, he sent the picture to Adrienne’s subconscious. He then positioned his apparition in such a way as to appear threatening to her. A frown appeared on her sleeping face. She began to twist and turn on the bed. Her breathing rapidly increased.
    She sat suddenly upright with her eyes wide open, trembling. “That’s impossible,” she breathed. “There’s no such thing as ghosts! There’s not!”
    The next morning Brian appeared at the hospital and observed Adrienne. Except for an occasional moment when she would pause, staring off into space, her behavior seemed no different than on any other day. She continued to frequently cross paths with Alan Robinson and their chats appeared to be more intimate than in the past. That night Brian sent another dream of his own ghost. Adrienne began to toss on the bed. Gradually he changed the apparition into the appearance of Alan Robinson. Maybe Adrienne would understand that she was using Dr. Robinson the same way she had used him. Instead of the fright that she had exhibited the previous night, her face showed a confused frown as if she didn’t comprehend the message of the dream. Brian wondered how he could get any message to Adrienne if he was unable to get her to understand what he was trying to show her. Maybe he could get through by simple repetition. Didn’t repetitive dreams always make the person wonder why they kept dreaming the same thing night after night?
    Not knowing what else to do, Brian conjured up the same image repeatedly each night after Adrienne was asleep.
    On Saturday evening when he thought of Adrienne, he found himself floating above the Corvette where Alan was behind the wheel. He’s driving my car! Brian thought, and immediately felt a twinge of guilt for the jealousy of the feeling. What’s the difference?
    He thought. I have no need of it.
    The convertible slowed and turned into a driveway and approached a huge gray stone house through an archway of ancient oak trees. The aura of a country estate was incongruous with the fact that it was located in the heart of a teeming city, but was enhanced by the manicured lawn and the gardens that seemed to disappear into the distance.
    Alan stopped the car before the massive front doors and went around to hold the door for Adrienne. A uniformed attendant suddenly appeared and Alan tossed him the keys to the Corvette before the two passed through the welcoming portals. Brian watched the gleam in Adrienne’s eyes as she surveyed the spacious entry. Light twinkled through crystal cascades onto the matching brass umbrella stands that flanked each side of the doorway. Next to each was an antique oaken bench. An ancient, highly polished, armoire dominated the remaining space.
    “Good evening, James,” Alan said as a servant stepped into the hallway. “Mom and Dad in the living room?”
    “Yes, sir, Mr. Alan,” the