About 3 minutes of the ghost story...If that.

*A quck reminder. The French doors have just slammed and a windo pane has broken. Again this was written quickly with out much editing.*

Everyone jumps. I drop my mug and the warm brown liquid seems to shatter with the ceramic and makes a jagged circle splashing every where and drenching my shoes.

I stare at my feet and the wet floor. My exhaustion bubbles to the surface and the tears spring suddenly from my eyes too fast for a normal reaction. As suddenly as this all happens My husband and one of the movers run to the french door in the adjacent room. One of the movers seems to drop into a squat as fast as I do to start picking up the broken pieces of ceramic and rick scoops up Helen and sets her on the counter.
“stay here sweetie until we get all the sharp broken stuff that can hurt you picked up”
“I’ll be OK moving guy” she says brightly crossing her legs like a pretzel.

Somehow I find a rag and clean up the liquid before it becomes a dry and sticky mess the broom and mop are easy to find. I look at Helen happily sitting happily watching us. As soon as I get the kitchen done I decide that Helen and I need a nap. He bed was the first piece of furniture off the truck It is set up and there are blankets handy.  I scoop her up and go to the back room they have found the vacuum and picked up the largest shard. Rick has a cut and has a paper towel wrapped around it.
I know this will delay the nap but they have all been so helpful I feel I must help him.
“Rick I have a first aid kit in the car I can get that fixed up fast.”
We head outside to the car. I set Helen on the top step and walk with rick down the path.
“Well, I guess we just had proof why they have called this place Wind Point.” Rick says.
I laugh hard. This was not what i had expected to hear.