Free Dying For You by MaryJanice Davidson

fist passed through the wood of the door and she hesitated. She’d been through three other cabins, looking for Jack and Cathy. This could be lucky number four. That was good, right? Right. Only, she prayed they weren’t doing it.
    She stuck her head through the door. Success! There they were, Cathy sobbing (nuts) on the bed as if, uh, she’d lost herbest friend (okay, she had), and Jack sitting beside the bed, his chin resting on one fist, watching her with a glum look. He was shirtless, in khaki shorts, deeply tanned, and even in the middle of her rather large problem, she noticed for the hundredth time how yummy her best friend’s husband was.
    Who was tan in March? They lived in Minnesota, for goodness’ sake.
    “Sorry to ogle,” she said cheerfully, “but it’s your own fault for letting him walk around without a shirt.”
    Nothing.
    “Guys! I’m okay! Well, relatively speaking.”
    “I’ll never forgive myself,” Cathy said, her voice thick with tears.
    “You did nothing wrong, love.” Jack’s voice was a soothing rumble.
    “I just can’t stand the thought of her floating around out there, all alone—Nikki hates being by herself.”
    “Uh, guys?”
    “Cathy, you’ve got to stop. You’ve been crying for hours. You’ll make yourself ill.”
    “Guys?” She walked over to them—she might be able to pass through walls, but an old habit like walking on the floor was hard to break—and waved her hands in front of them. “Guys? I’m here. I’m okay. Relativ—never mind. Don’t cry, honey, you know how your nose swells up.”
    “I can’t help it,” Cathy cried. “This was supposed to be a fun vacation for the three of us, and now what? The coast guard is looking for my best friend’s body.”
    “They are? Oh, great. I guess.” She grimaced at the thoughtof gorgeous tropical fish nibbling on her toes. Had she sunk? Was she floating? The salt water was going to be murder on her hair.…
    “Because of you,” Cathy accused. “You just had to finish that damned painting.”
    “Don’t go blaming him,” Nikki said sharply. “It was a silly accident.”
    Jack’s mouth tightened for a moment, then he replied, most gently, “Love, Nikki wouldn’t want you carrying on like this.”
    “Yes I would! I mean, you guys can mourn for a day. That’s all right.”
    “I can’t help it,” Cathy said again.
    “You must. It’s been a week. You have to try to calm down. You must think of the baby.”
    “The
baby
?” Nikki almost yelled.
    “I’m sorry for what I said,” Cathy said. “It was my fault, too. I wanted to stay for the doctor’s appointment.”
    “Baby?” Nikki shouted again. “Oh, nice! You let him knock you up, and you were gonna tell me when? Jerks!”
    Then it hit her: a week? But she’d only died a couple of hours ago! Sure, it had taken her a while to get back to the island and find their cabin, but—
    “I guess you’re right,” Cathy sighed, sitting up. Jack got up at once and went to the bathroom. Nikki heard the sound of running water, and then he came back out holding a full glass. “Thanks.”
    “Drink it all,” he told her. “You don’t want to become dehydrated in this heat.”
    “Jerks! I’m in the room, you know. What, you’re all done mourning now?” Although, the thought of Cathy crying nonstop for a week (a week?) was sort of dismaying. Especially if she was
el preggo
. “Can you really not see me?”
    She stuck her arm through Jack’s head. He didn’t notice. Didn’t even get a cold chill, like in the movies. And the guy had been a ghost himself for, like, eighty years.
    She thought of
The Sixth Sense
, the most horrifying movie in the history of cinema. She had been mesmerized. That poor kid. Poor Bruce Willis.
    But, what was worse than seeing dead people?
    Not being seen at all.
    “Jerks,” she said again. It was lame, but it was all she could think of.
    “Let’s go back to the lodge, see if they found—if they found