Page 30 of My Blind Date is a Ghost

“Don’t worry about it. Money doesn’t really mean anything to me. I can always make more…in more ways than one.”

I huffed and crossed my arms. I had seen money miraculously appear in Beverly’s cash register before, so I know that she knows money spells. “But I’m not a witch. Money doesn’t just appear out of thin air for me. I’ll need a way to earn my keep eventually.”

“All in due time,” Beverly says. “You only just got here. Don’t get in over your head. You haven’t even slept yet as far as I know.”

I sigh and sit on a stool behind the counter. “No, I haven’t. And I’m not tired yet either. I mean, I’m used to not sleeping, and I’m sure I have a lot of energy stored up after years of living as a ghost, but I figured it would catch up with me eventually.”

“And the lights flickering. And the fact that you saw another ghost…”

“What are you saying? Or asking?”

“I’m wondering if some of your ghostly…attributes, let us say, have carried over into your living life.”

I shake my head. “I hope not. I just want to be normal.”

“What you want and how things really are are two different things,” she says. “The abilities you’re displaying are similar to those of a poltergeist.”

“A poltergeist?”

“A poltergeist is a ghost responsible for physical disturbances, like the lights flickering or objects falling over.”

I shrug. “I suppose. Does it matter what you call it? Besides, I shouldn’t be able to do those things while I’m living. I can’t be both alive and a…a poltergeist or whatever.”

“I’m just saying that it’s possible that some of the powers you had when you were a ghost, you still…possess, for lack of a better word. This is not something to take lightly, dear. It’s a gift.”

“No,” I say, getting up and walking away from her. “I don’t want a gift! I don’t want to be a poltergeist.” A lamp on the counter starts to flicker.

“Calm down,” Beverly says. “I don’t have any more bulbs for that lamp in the back room. I won’t be able to get more until tomorrow, so don’t blow it.”

“I’m not going to blow it,” I say through gritted teeth. “At least, I won’t if you drop it.”

“Well, I’m not going to drop it,” she says. “You saw a ghost, my mother. What a privilege that is!”

I sigh. “I suppose.”

“You said yourself that everything we think we know about ghosts is wrong. There are millions of people in the world who claim to be able to speak to ghosts. There have been throughout all of time. But what if you really are the only person who can? Think about what you could learn about ghosts if you only opened your mind to it.”

“It’s a terrifying prospect,” I say.

“Is it? Didn’t you say how lonely you were? Or, what if you could have made contact with someone a hundred years ago who could have helped you figure out why you were a ghost and could have helped you move on?”

“I don’t think it works that way,” I say.

“How would you know?”

I have to shut my mouth at that.

“Exactly. Consider my mother. Why is she here? She died peacefully of old age. She shouldn’t be a ghost. I didn’t even know she was one. What can we do to help her?”

Somehow, I know Sabrina is standing right next to me, encouraging me. I can’t see her, hear her, or feel her, but I know she’s there. I give her a smile.

“Okay,” I say. “But I still don’t want you or Beckett digging into my past. I don’t want to even think about solving some mystery that might help me move on, or whatever. I want to stay here just as I am. Agreed?”

“Oh, fine, fine,” Beverly says, brushing me off. I open my mouth to argue further, but she gives me a wave to follow her.

“I’m about to show you something that few other people have ever seen,” she says. We walk to the back of the shop where there is a curio cabinet. Beverly takes a key out of her bra and opens the cabinet. Then she pulls on a book so old, it looks like it might crumble. But not only does the book crumble, the whole cabinet tumbles way like sparkling sand into nothingness, revealing a doorway.

“Even I’ve never seen you use this room before,” I say. “How is that possible.”

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