Page 32 of A Midsummer Night's Ghost

“Depends on what you consider easy.”

“Like, less painful? Isn’t that a painful way to go?”

“Oh, definitely.”

“And would you really drink antifreeze and then go to work?” That sounded…very unpleasant. I wasn’t exactly sure what that kind of poisoning would do but I was picturing lots of vomiting.

“He was at work?” My mother washed her hands in the bathroom sink. “Hmm. That does seem odd. Unless he lives alone and wanted to make sure someone found him. No note or anything?”

“No note. They seemed to think he had a heart attack.”

“Nope. Maybe he was an alcoholic and just thought he’d take a little swig.” She dried her hands on a hand towel. “Are we done here? You’re just standing around.”

I eyed the bathroom and sighed in defeat. “I think this is an entire weekend project, not the hour I was hoping for.”

“You always want immediate gratification.”

“Who doesn’t?” I protested.

“I do. I love immediate gratification.” Ryan appeared behind my mother in the doorway and pretended to look down her shirt. “Anything in there for me?”

I did jump a little—I can’t help it, it’s still startling—but otherwise I managed to ignore him enough that my mother didn’t suspect anything was wrong.

“It’s freezing in this bathroom,” she complained. “How old is this HVAC?”

“It’s from the eighties.” Though the cold chill she was feeling was Ryan’s ghost hovering right behind her.

“That’s older than you,” she pointed out, as if I wasn’t aware of what decade I was born in.

“I don’t know about this house,” she said, sounding dubious at best.

“That’s what I keep saying, Mrs. B!” Ryan nodded in agreement. “Total turd.”

“I like this house,” I said, because Jakelovedthis house and I was going to defend him no matter what questionable design choices were lingering. Everything had a time and place when it was the latest and greatest in home decor, including shower doors with etched swans. “I feel like people who bought houses for five dollars at one percent interest shouldn’t have opinions about our purchase.”

I was actually directing that at Ryan, not my mother. He’d bought a starter house for less than a hundred grand when interest rates were so good they made you want to slap your mama.

Fortunately, she didn’t take offense. She actually gave a begrudging laugh. “Fair enough. I know you’ll make this house beautiful. You have amazing taste.”

Normally, I would ride that high for days. A compliment from my mother was rare.

Which was why it also made me a little concerned that she might be dying of cancer or something.

She even went so far as to give my upper arm a squeeze, which was heavy level affection for her.

It felt like more bad news was about to slung my way and she was buttering me up.

But she just smiled and I let my shoulders relax. “Thanks, Mom.”

Honestly, everyone seemed so grumpy lately it was a nice change.

Or maybe it was me who was grumpy.

“Your mom is stone cold,” Ryan said as the three of us left the bathroom. “She just shrugged off the idea of some dude swigging antifreeze like it’s mouthwash. I dig that about her.”

I didn’t react.

“If I was still walking around in a meat suit, I’d ask your mom out. I hear she dates younger guys now.”

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