Page 69 of Haunted Ever After

When he’d died, Sarah said she was free, but not.

Because he’d stuck around too. His spirit was bullying her, and anyone else who might come around her home.

So she’d kept everyone away. Even the neighborhood children, who might get too close. For decades she’d borne the brunt of his temper. Alone.

Well, not anymore. Not if Cassie could help it.

“You’re right,” she said to her refrigerator. “We need to get him out. But we’re gonna need some help first.”

“Get who out?” Sophie asked, but Cassie had already scooped up her phone. She punched up Libby’s number and waited impatiently for her to answer.

“Libby? Can a house have more than one ghost in it?”

“Sure it can.” Libby had obviously been doing this for too long to let a question like this faze her. “Whole families can linger behind together.”

Cassie turned back toward the kitchen, where Sophie watched her with wide, slightly confused eyes.

get him out was still displayed on the fridge. Working on it, Sarah. “Do you think Nan could come over? I think she missed a spot.”

•••

Nan’s tracksuit was pink this time, practically glowing in the late-afternoon sun when she and Libby arrived on Cassie’s front porch. The first thing the elderly woman did when she walked inside was look around Cassie’s freshly painted living room with an appraising eye.

“Nice colors,” she said. She looked around again. “Don’t see any cabbage roses, though. Didn’t she say she missed the roses?”

“She did,” Cassie confirmed. “But given the choice she said she’d rather have the color of the wallpaper than the actual wallpaper itself.”

“She said…” Nan’s voice trailed off, mystified, but then she caught sight of the refrigerator and that seemed to jog her memory. “Right,” she said. “You and Sarah have been using your words, huh? Very good.” She headed toward the kitchen, with Cassie, Sophie, and Libby trailing after her like ducklings.

Nan examined the fridge, which still said get him out. “Not exactly subtle, is it?”

“Nope.” Cassie took a deep breath. “I’m pretty sure there’s a second ghost in this house. C.S. Hawkins? I think he stuck around too.” She watched Nan’s face carefully. Cassie sure wasn’t the ghost expert in the room—hell, she wasn’t even the second-best expert in the room. Or the third. Was she ghost-splaining here?

“Really?” If Nan was offended by the implication that she’d missed something the first time around, she didn’t show it. Instead she walked slowly back out to the living room, turning in a circle. It was the same thing she’d done the first time, when she was getting a feel of the place. Was she seeing something different this time around?

Apparently she was. She stopped short in the center of the living room and took a sharp breath. “Oh, there you are. Where the hell have you been?” She fell silent then, her eyes closed, concentrating. “Hiding behind your wife, I bet. Typical.” Her voice was little more than a murmur, and she seemed to shrink into herself the longer she stood. Cassie wanted to take her arm, wanted to offer her a chair, but she was pretty sure that touching a medium at this point in the proceedings was a no-no. She hazarded a glance over at Libby, who was worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, her eyes fixed on her grandmother. She looked concerned, but no more than anyone would over the well-being of your average octogenarian. That made Cassie feel better, the way that bored-looking flight attendants made her feel calm when the plane hit turbulence. Libby knew what was going on, and she wasn’t alarmed.

“Damn.” Nan’s voice was stronger now, rougher. “He really doesn’t like you.” Her eyes opened, focused on Cassie.

Cassie blinked. Was that something she should be concerned about? “Uh. Sorry?”

“Work.” Nan practically spit the word as she shook off the remainder of whatever trance she’d been under. “He doesn’t like that you work. Not just you. Women in general. Says he tried to stop you, stop your machine.”

“My machine…” Cassie repeated, then the light bulb came on in her head as another puzzle piece slid into place. “He keeps my laptop from charging.” Then she sucked in a breath as the mental light bulb surged suddenly brighter. “Only when I plug it in. Because I’m a woman.”

Sophie made a tsk sound with her tongue. “What a misogynist.”

“No shit.” Libby folded her arms on her chest. “Fuck that guy.”

“Language, Liberty.” Nan cut her eyes to her granddaughter. Libby looked chastened, though she rolled her eyes in Cassie’s direction when Nan wasn’t looking.

“Yeah,” Nan said dismissively, walking back to the kitchen with a purpose this time, plunking her shoulder bag on the kitchen table. “He’s gotta go.”

“He does?” A surge of relief swept through Cassie. Imagine being able to plug in her laptop and having it work. Imagine being able to kiss Nick in her kitchen anytime she wanted. Cassie could imagine a lot of other things she’d like to do with Nick in her kitchen. But she forced her brain back on topic as one thing bothered her. “I thought you said you don’t like to banish spirits. That it was okay for them to stick around.”

“Not if they’re assholes.” Nan said the words slowly, as though explaining to a toddler. “And this one’s an asshole. Therefore, he’s gotta go.” She started rummaging through her impossibly large bag, pulling out a few things: a Costco-size container of salt, a water pistol for some reason, a child’s plastic bucket capped with a lid, a fistful of white taper candles still wrapped in plastic. “Libby, get the poker out of the car.”

Now Libby was all business; not an eyeroll to be seen. “Yes, ma’am.”

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