His Tempting Widow

Chapter 8: The Invite

Six months later. It was a Sunday afternoon.

“Oh, Luke.” Shaina was surprised to see her late husband’s colleague at work visiting them. Behind her was her ghost husband, who was frowning.

Time to time, Luke would text Shaina through Wallace’s phone to ask how she and the kids were doing. Sometimes, he would order some food and have it delivered to their house, which always delighted the children. She did tell him not to do that, as her kids might always expect something from him. However, Luke would always say it was fine.

Wallace did appreciate his friend’s efforts, but he was uncomfortable with it. Luke was single but did not court his widow, and yet, he did not like the way his colleague was getting closer to Shaina.

“Hi. I have something here for Sarina and Spencer.” Luke smiled, showing a plastic bag filled with combo meals. “Actually, for all of you.”

“Oh, I told you, you don’t have to do this, Luke.” Shaina shook her head.

“Uncle Luke!” Spencer appeared next to Shaina and took his free hand to touch it on his forehead as a greeting and respect to the elder. Sarina quietly followed her brother, taking Luke’s hand to touch it on her forehead and smiled.

Wallace blew out a breath, watching this disturbing scene. His eyes squinted as he stared at Luke again, when the latter ruffled his children’s hair and gave the plastic bag to them. The little ones murmured their thanks and ran to the kitchen table, where Hilda was preparing vegetables to cook for their supper.

Luke was ushered into the small living room, and Shaina closed the door. He sat on the sofa, and she settled in front of him. He greeted Hilda, who exchanged the same usual pleasantries with him.

“Thanks for the food, but seriously, you don’t have to do this anymore. I don’t think it’s necessary… or appropriate,” Shaina told him gently.

“I’m sorry. I just…” he trailed off.

“You’re still feeling guilty,” Shaina finished for him. “Luke, you have to let it go. We never blamed you. I never blamed you. It just happened.”

Luke swallowed and stared at her. “I’ll try to remind myself of that. I’m sorry for making you feel uneasy or something. But… hey, I was promoted last month. I’m now a team leader in a typesetting team, and one of the supervisors would like you to attend our Christmas party.”

Shaina and Wallace looked surprised.

“Oh, congratulations!” Shaina told him with a smile.

“Why would they invite my wife?” Wallace asked.

Then she frowned slightly. “I-I… I don’t think I belong there though. It’s only for the employees, Luke. You know that,” Shaina pointed out at the same time.

“It’s different. Our supervisor suggested to our project manager to give Wallace a posthumous recognition for all his contributions while serving the company.”

Wallace almost cringed when he heard it, reminding him that he was already so dead.

“He did a brilliant job then, and it’s part of the company’s journey this year. Ace was part of it, so our project manager asked me if I could invite you to the party,” Luke explained. His eyes were hopeful and persuasive at the same time.

“I’m not sure. I have work ’til Saturday, Luke.”

“The party will start at six thirty in the evening, next Saturday, two days before Christmas. You can come as you are at seven or eight. It’ll be held at the company compound. You can go home right after the awarding if you want, and I can send you home, if you’d like… if you’d let me.”

Shaina chuckled a little, oblivious to her ghost husband’s glare at Luke. She shook her head.

“You don’t have to do that. But yes, all right. I’ll… go to your Christmas party. I can just ask Paola to pick me up afterward,” Shaina said.

Luke flashed a delighted smile and thanked her. He stayed for a bit more, glancing at the kids, who were now happily eating the food he had brought for them.

“Okay. I’ll go. You just take care, Shaina.” Luke got up from the sofa to Wallace’s relief. He hesitated for a moment. “Oh! Here’s the invitation. I almost forgot.” He slapped his forehead with an embarrassed smile on his plump reddish lips. “You need this to enter the compound.” He took the small green Christmas card with a red ribbon from his wallet and handed it to her.

She accepted it and thanked him. She read her name on it with the company logo on top of it, as well as the short salutation and a message in small fonts that said she was invited to the party. At least, it was official through this, and she was sure he did not make it all up.

She closed and locked the door when Luke left. She heard his motorcycle moving away from their house.

“Are you really going?” Hilda queried.

“I have to, Ma. It’s for Ace.”

Wallace’s expression softened as he gazed at his widow. He moved closer to her and cupped her face.

“I love you, hon. I know you’re still sad about my death, but I’m still here. I’ll always be here. For you.” He was about to kiss her lips when she moved forward, going through his air-like body. He tightened his jaw and groaned in frustration.

He followed his wife to their room. He saw her place the invitation card on top of the plastic drawers where they kept their clothes. It had four drawers, and attached to it was a small closet where they could hang their clothes.

He could no longer see his clothes among them. His mother had already given away his clothes a few weeks after his death, although Shaina did not want to. Nevertheless, his mother insisted, saying that the dead could not use them anymore, and it was better for those homeless to put them to good use.

Shaina did cry while his mother put all his clothes in a box. “Can I keep at least keep one shirt and a pair of his pants, Ma?” She sniffled and hiccupped.

Hilda sighed, looking tearful too, and nodded. Shaina folded them and placed them below her hanged clothes in their plastic cabinet.

“These are his favorite, Ma,” she mumbled and caressed the blue shirt and black pants while kneeling on the floor. “He barely used them so that they would look new. He only used these when we went on a date or when we celebrated our wedding anniversary.”

“Because you chose and bought them for me, hon,” Wallace whispered, eyes shining with sadness.

***

“No, I’m not going to put makeup on, Pao,” Shaina differed from her friend’s suggestion.

“You shouldn’t look like a ghost when you go to that Christmas party, Shai. Your lips are pale,” Paola insisted, hands poised to give her a dab of color on her lips.

They were at the laundromat, already past closing time.

“Hey, my wife’s not pale. She has natural pinkish lips, and she has that alluring fair skin, too. It’s smooth as silk and… and…” Wallace trailed away and just gawped at his stunning wife, whose natural beauty was unrivaled. At least, that was what he believed. He just loved his wife so much, and he could still remember vividly their first night together, their wedding night…