Page 14 of Ghosted

Tabitha turned to me, her face softening. “We’ll wait as long as it takes.”

I could only nod, wondering how she managed to be so kind through all of this. Just being here with me, after all the nonsense I’d put her through, made me feel like the luckiest guy—poltergeist or not.

The hours crept by, the mist thinning as the autumn sun tried to break through the cloud cover.

After we’d watched what seemed like a million funny cat videos on Tabitha’s phone, she sighed. “This is feeling like one of those endless stakeouts in a bad cop movie.”

I gave her a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry. This whole thing—waiting around, all of it. You’ve already done so much.”

She shook her head, resolute. “Not a chance. You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Casper Thorne.”

I smiled, letting the warmth of her words seep into me, anchoring me even as everything else seemed so uncertain.

By the time dusk began to settle over Sweetberry Hollow, casting long shadows across the winding roads, I could hear Tabitha’s stomach rumbling.

She shifted in her seat. “I’m starving, and well, I really need to find a bathroom too,” she said, squirming uncomfortably.

I raised an eyebrow. “I’d almost forgotten about bodily needs.”

“Tell you what,” she said, peering down the empty street one last time before starting the car. “Let’s hit the drive-thru. You may not need a burger, but I do, and I’m going to explode if I don’t find a restroom soon.”

I couldn’t argue, figuring Mom would probably be home by the time we got back anyway. As Tabitha pulled into the dimly lit parking lot of a nearby burger joint, the wind started picking up, scattering leaves across the lot in swirling patterns. She parked and leapt out of the car, making a beeline for the restroom sign glowing near the entrance. A faint drizzle had started, coating the cracked asphalt with a glistening sheen, and the smell of fast food mingled with the fresh scent of rain.

I waited, watching the occasional car roll by under the street lamps, feeling oddly removed from it all. Watching people live their lives—going about their mundane, very non-ghostly existence—had started to feel like looking through glass. A barrier I couldn’t break. That is, except when I was with Tabitha.

She returned a few minutes later, clutching a greasy bag, her cheeks flushed from the brisk walk back in the rain. She climbed back in, balancing the food on her lap as she handed me a drink out of habit, only to snatch it back with a sheepish smile.

“Old habits die hard,” she joked, digging into her fries with a satisfied hum. “Honestly, you don’t know what you’re missing. The beauty of perfectly crisp fries and a burger you didn’t have to make yourself is unbeatable.”

“Oh, I remember,” I said wistfully. “Right now, I’d give anything for a double quarter-pounder.”

Tabitha took a big bite of her burger. “I’ll savor it on your behalf, then. In the meantime, we’d better get back to your mom’s.”

She popped a fry into a mouth before turning the key in the ignition and we motored back to my mother’s quiet street. Her little cottage was tucked away at the end of the cul-de-sac, partially hidden by tall trees whose leaves were already a rich tapestry of autumn colors. As we parked down the street and watched, headlights broke the quiet darkness and I recognized my mom’s car finally pulling into the driveway.

“There she is,” I said, nudging Tabitha.

She raised her eyebrows as Mom stepped out of the car, looking weary but composed, dressed in her usual nurse’s scrubs. We both watched as she glanced around before heading into the house.

“Good timing,” Tabitha muttered, wiping her hands on a napkin and crumpling up her burger wrapper. “I’ll finish these last few fries, and we’ll go say hello.”

But before she could even gather her things, the front door opened again. We froze as my mother stepped back outside, but not in her usual attire. Gone were her scrubs, replaced bya nurse’s uniform that made my jaw practically unhinge. Her wavy brown hair spilled loose down her shoulders, and instead of her practical sneakers, she wore a pair of dangerously high white heels. A tiny, pristine nurse’s cap was perched atop her head, and the dress she wore was—well, it barely qualified as a dress. The snug white fabric hugged her curves, and I tried not to notice the ample amount of cleavage it exposed.

“What the—” I mumbled, eyes widening in disbelief. “What the hell is my mother wearing?”

Tabitha, equally shocked, let out a startled laugh. “Well, I’m guessing she’s probably on her way to a Halloween party. That must be her costume for the night.”

I shook my head, covering my eyes in mock horror. “I just...I really didn’t need to see that.”

Tabitha gave me a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “I suppose it’s not every day you see your mom dressed like she’s about to walk onto the set of a horror-themed rom-com.”

“Let’s get this over with,” I muttered, taking one last bracing look before stepping out of the car.

Tabitha followed suit, still grinning as we made our way toward the cottage. But before we could reach the front steps, Mom slid back into her car, backed out of the driveway, heading down the street in the opposite direction.

“Crap,” I muttered.

“We’ll have to follow her to wherever she’s going,” Tabitha said.

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