Page 5 of A Midsummer Night's Ghost

“Not at all. I have to go.” I gave a finger wave and hightailed it out of there before he guilted me into staying and unloading more boxes, or worse, making small talk with his mother, who had many opinions on many things.

“That wasn’t smooth, but it was effective,” Ryan said, falling in step beside me. “Power of the?—

“Ryan!” I cut him off sharply. “Grandma is on the porch.”

“Oh, hey, Mrs. B,” he said, giving her a charming smile and a wave. “You look fresh as a daisy.”

“Just got a perm,” she confided, patting her tight curls. “And my eyebrows tattooed on.”

“No kidding? You can tattoo eyebrows on?” He sat down on the wrought iron loveseat that had come with the house next to her.

“It’s called micro-blading.”

The micro-blading had been a choice. Not one I would have made for her. With her hair a silver with a lavender hue, she should have gone with light eyebrows if she really wanted more definition. Instead, she’d defaulted to her original pre-gray haircolor and now she looked like my sister Jen’s kids had etched out eyebrows for her with a chocolate-colored marker.

“No kidding? They can do that? I have to say, you look very fancy.”

“Thank you.” Grandma Burke was the only other person who could see Ryan. Or any ghosts, for that matter. She said it skipped a generation and only passed down between the women. That we were empathic.

“Your father is just pathetic, not empathic,” she’d added when we’d had this talk a few months prior.

So yeah, she was definitely not happy with my dad. It was a running theme.

“I have to look and dress my best every day now,” she told him. “In case I die and stick around like you. Can’t have my ghost looking shabby.”

“Fair enough. If I had known I was going to kick it that day, I would have shaved.” He rubbed his ghostly five o’clock shadow. “At least I didn’t die wearing a suit. That would have sucked.”

Ryan’s ghost was permanently wearing jeans, boots, and navy blue T-shirt with a flannel. His off-work uniform pre-death.

“But you look so handsome in a suit,” Grandma told him.

“Okay, we have to go, so save the mutual admiration club for another day, you two.”

Ryan’s phone rang in his pocket. He pulled it out. “Hello?”

I still couldn’t get over the sheer horror of having a cell phone in the afterlife. My vision of just floating on a cloud eating peanut butter cups was shattered by the thought of getting text messages requesting I donate money to political campaigns from here to eternity.

And Ryan wasn’t even in hell.

He was in purgatory.

He’d had a shot at the pearly gates and we’d thought we were there, but Ryan said his paperwork had been misfiled.

Which was basically code for he’d screwed up somehow.

Ryan ended the call and eyed us. “We gotta go, ladies. We’ve got a fresh one.”

TWO

My heart sankat Ryan’s words as I grabbed Grandma Burke by the elbow and hauled her to her feet. “Another dead body?”

“Yep.” He gestured for me to step a few feet away from Grandma. “At the senior center.”

Oh, no. “Someone my grandma knows?”

“How would I know who your grandma knows?”

“What are you two talking about?” she demanded. “I may be hard of hearing but I’m not stupid. You’re both wearing the don’t-tell-the-old-lady look.”

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