Page 28 of Baking With A Ghost

"I thought you might have left. You've been gone for a while and… and I'd be crushed if I couldn't meet you."

Crushed is not a huge enough word. But he's still here and I cling to the hope he never leaves.

It'salmosttimeforMike to arrive. I've felt faint so many times in the last hour, I should be carrying around a paper bag to breathe in.

The knock on my loft outside door has me jump, knocking my hip on the counter. I bite back a curse and wipe my hands on my jeans for the fiftieth time tonight, and carefully open the door.

"Whoa. John, you okay?"

A nervous laugh escapes as I motion for him to enter. "I've been better."

He pauses inside the door and gives me a once over. "Do you still want to do this? Nothing says you have to."

"I'm aware of that and yes, I want to."

He smiles. "Good. This is the best part about what I do, I'd hate for you to miss out."

I had tucked the newspaper clipping under my pillow after Simon left it and I've read it far too many times to count. I'm not missing out on this either.

"I'm good, Mike. So where do we need to do this?"

"Whatever is good for you. I need room for a six foot circle and I prefer to light candles. It's also best to work in an area where you've had strong contact with Simon, if we can. Is there a certain room we can use?"

Contact? I'm going to say in the non sex way, is what he means. As my eyes slide to the bedroom, Mike picks up on it.

"If he's been present in dreams, that's okay, but we don't need to be any place where you've shared something private. Just a place where he's visited most and you connect."

"Would the kitchen in the bakery be okay?"

"If it's an area he visits you, perfectly fine."

My throat closes as I lead Mike down the narrow staircase and directly into the bakery.

"That's a cool feature. Secret staircase down to raid the bakery at night."

"It's great, as some days I literally never leave the building, but I know I'll appreciate it once winter comes."

Instead of switching on the bright fluorescent lights of the kitchen, I turn the dimmer switch on, to bring my chandelier to life. It belonged to my grandmother, a gift from my grandfather long ago, and after restoring it, I've moved it with me from place to place, hoping one day I'd find a permanent home for it.

When I remodeled the kitchen for the bakery, I had it installed hanging over the small working desk I kept here. It warms the work space and fills me with memories of baking with my own grandmother. She'd be proud of this space. Not sure how she'd feel about what I'm about to do though.

"This is perfect, John. Great space. What do you have I can use to make the circle?"

"Well, I have lots of flour and sugar. Would either of those work?"

"Absolutely, point me in the right direction and I'll get it all set up."

I hand him a canister of flour and a scoop and step out of his way. He makes a six foot wide circle on the floor and he hands the canister back to me.

"That's the messy part, well, for you anyway. That's a lot of flour to clean up."

Replacing the flour, and taking care not to disturb the circle, I lean against the large sink in the corner.

"Is it always a circle?"

He focuses on me and pauses, rummaging in his bag. "Oh, usually. I'm not really sure why, to be honest. They don't teach us everything in ghost whisperer school."

He winks, surely in jest, but I wonder if he really did go to a ghost school of some sorts. How did he really end up knowing all this stuff? And helping over fifty lost souls? Rather than continue down that track to wonder what Mike did to learn about these skills, I return my thoughts to Simon and listen to Mike explain what he's doing.

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