Page 27 of Ghostly
“The house is haunted.”
“Oh.” Gabriel looked to Ida, who was trying hard to suppress laughter.
Marge added, “We’ve had multiple previous tenants reporting strange noises. Knocking…”
“Objects being moved, sometimes in front of their eyes…” Janice narrowed her glance at the glasses on the table. Next to her, Ida stretched an arm out toward the glass.
“Don’t!” Gabriel shot out.
Janice jumped and put a hand to her chest.
“Don’t… worry about me,” he said calmer. “No ghosts here. Now, who’s ready for dinner?” He went to the kitchen to retrieve the chicken, kept warm in the oven. Last thing he needed was for that tale to spread, andsome reporter to write how the once great Gabriel Vane had fallen so low he was now frolicking around with ghosts.
“Talk about awkward dinners,” Ida said, suddenly beside him.
Gabriel yelped and nearly dropped the chicken plate.
“Are you alright, Mr. Buren?” one of the women asked from the living room.
“Hot plate. And please, it’s Gabriel.”
“I don’t know why you’re trying so hard with them,” Ida said. “I think they only came because they were curious about me.”
“I thought you wanted to be a good hostess,” he whispered.
“I did. I am. But I don’t like the way Janice is ogling my vase.”
“Just behave, okay? And please, don’t scare anybody.” He took the food, together with a stack of plates, to the living room. “I apologize for the improvised dinner arrangements.”
The women eyed the plates, as if not sure how to proceed.
Jason grabbed one and helped himself to some chicken. “It’s cool. Just like street food.”
The others waited for a few moments, then reached for their respective plates.
Ida sat in her armchair. “When Larry and Rhonda still lived here, they talked about an old man who liked to frequent the diner in town. He’d always order an apple pie and tell the craziest stories. I wonder if he’s still there.”
Gabriel maintained eye contact with her for a few seconds as confirmation, then turned to his guests. “I have a friend who passed through the town once. He went to your diner and met quite the man—older, a frequent customer who liked apple pies, I believe…?”
The women looked at each other.
“Oh, you must mean Mr. Schumacher.”
“Funny fellow, plenty of stories to tell.”
“Don’t they say he had a cat who could talk?” Jason said, initiating a few more seconds of silence.
“You know, I heard that too,” Dina then said.
Janice waved her hand. “Oh, I haven’t just heard it. Don’t you remember I told you that one time, I was walking and he came by, the cat on his shoulder…”
Peace between the guests temporarily reinstated, Gabriel took a bite of his chicken—honestly, not a bad job—and looked at Ida, hoping to slip her an eye wink. But she was leaning forward, elbows on her knees, hands supporting her chin, and completely engrossed in the guests’ tale, with a slight smile playing on her lips.
So Gabriel just sat back and listened.
Five gossip topics later
“And that is why you only wear yellow when you go picking mushrooms.” Mark returned his plate to the table, practically licked clean. They all were, as Gabriel noticed with gusto.
