there will be no more Zombie sex experiments,” said Julien, when the awkwardness became palpable. Grandma stepped into the kitchen, smiling knowingly and shaking her head as if amused by the fact we were truly acting like teenagers, even if somewhat lamely. “That’s why I’m sticking to ghosts, demons, a few vampires, and two new action adventure series going forward. And , I would love to write a book about real ghosts. Like the ones y’all have here in this house.”
What in the hell?!
“Ghosts in this house?” Grandpa sounded amused.
“It’s time for us to join the party, I think,” I whispered to Alisia, and headed for the dining room. “Come on.”
Grandma carried a silver tray loaded with cups and a carafe of hot tea and another filled with coffee. I intercepted her, and to my surprise she was willing to forego her love of being a good hostess to allow me a less awkward way to crash the conversation picking up speed and volume in the dining room.
“I don’t believe in ghosts!” said Sadee resolutely. “But, I guess if one writes about them, they can seem real…. Well hello, kids!”
“Hi Sadee and everyone else,” said Alisia, while I smiled and nodded, looking for the most suitable spot on the table to set the tray, and not finding one. Grandma lightly grabbed my arm to guide me over to the antique buffet in the corner, and I felt like an idiot for not remembering this is what the damned thing was originally used for a century earlier. “We’ve been pretty entertained by the conversation going on.”
Didn’t expect that from her, but glad she said it. Nervous laughter quietly flowed around the table, all except Julien and Meredith. Julien studied my sister and my mother, and Meredith watched him… looking like she was silently begging him to not open his mouth. But, here was my kindred spirit… the male who couldn’t stop himself from adding fuel to a fire that would otherwise die out.
“So, Alisia… true or false? Have you seen the ghost of a tall, attractive, dark haired woman in the ladies’ parlor—a ghost ascribed locally as the widow of the famous confederate statesman who once lived here, Sophie Atwater?”
I doubt any of us anticipated hearing such a question; asked with the same straightforwardness one might expect when playing Clue and inquiring if anyone saw Colonel Mustard in the library. Certainly, Alisia never saw it coming, and she looked at Julien in surprise, and then at Mom as if unsure how to answer. The lack of an immediate response added support for the question, and I grinned admiringly. Julien’s expression had been mostly neutral, with a hint of amusement—mostly in the eyes that twinkled. A smile to match appeared.
“Well, umm, I don’t think so—”
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Mom interrupted my sister, and turned a gaze similar to mine toward our unexpectedly candid guest. “Yes, we have seen her. Alisia and I have.”
I don’t know who was more surprised among Sadee, my father, or me. Grandpa seemed indifferent, as if a ghost residing in the house would be no more significant than having a small swarm of gnats to deal with. Grandma’s unsurprised look told me she either had seen the same apparition, sensed the presence, or Mom had previously confided the experience to her. Alisia was the one to surprise me most in my family, since she looked at our mother with relief.
So, this is true? We’ve got a ghost… or ghosts, maybe? And, no one bothered to mention any of this to me—Alisia, how could you?!
I suddenly pictured our unsavory neighbor grimacing at me—a man I still didn’t know by name.
That thar’s some shit!
“Meredith has seen her, too,” Julien volunteered, to which his wife nodded reluctantly. She shot him a look that wasn’t hostile, but did carry noticeable regret, as if she would’ve been just as happy to never bring the matter up, and hoping it would soon die. “I wish I could see the spirit for
What in the hell?!
“Ghosts in this house?” Grandpa sounded amused.
“It’s time for us to join the party, I think,” I whispered to Alisia, and headed for the dining room. “Come on.”
Grandma carried a silver tray loaded with cups and a carafe of hot tea and another filled with coffee. I intercepted her, and to my surprise she was willing to forego her love of being a good hostess to allow me a less awkward way to crash the conversation picking up speed and volume in the dining room.
“I don’t believe in ghosts!” said Sadee resolutely. “But, I guess if one writes about them, they can seem real…. Well hello, kids!”
“Hi Sadee and everyone else,” said Alisia, while I smiled and nodded, looking for the most suitable spot on the table to set the tray, and not finding one. Grandma lightly grabbed my arm to guide me over to the antique buffet in the corner, and I felt like an idiot for not remembering this is what the damned thing was originally used for a century earlier. “We’ve been pretty entertained by the conversation going on.”
Didn’t expect that from her, but glad she said it. Nervous laughter quietly flowed around the table, all except Julien and Meredith. Julien studied my sister and my mother, and Meredith watched him… looking like she was silently begging him to not open his mouth. But, here was my kindred spirit… the male who couldn’t stop himself from adding fuel to a fire that would otherwise die out.
“So, Alisia… true or false? Have you seen the ghost of a tall, attractive, dark haired woman in the ladies’ parlor—a ghost ascribed locally as the widow of the famous confederate statesman who once lived here, Sophie Atwater?”
I doubt any of us anticipated hearing such a question; asked with the same straightforwardness one might expect when playing Clue and inquiring if anyone saw Colonel Mustard in the library. Certainly, Alisia never saw it coming, and she looked at Julien in surprise, and then at Mom as if unsure how to answer. The lack of an immediate response added support for the question, and I grinned admiringly. Julien’s expression had been mostly neutral, with a hint of amusement—mostly in the eyes that twinkled. A smile to match appeared.
“Well, umm, I don’t think so—”
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Mom interrupted my sister, and turned a gaze similar to mine toward our unexpectedly candid guest. “Yes, we have seen her. Alisia and I have.”
I don’t know who was more surprised among Sadee, my father, or me. Grandpa seemed indifferent, as if a ghost residing in the house would be no more significant than having a small swarm of gnats to deal with. Grandma’s unsurprised look told me she either had seen the same apparition, sensed the presence, or Mom had previously confided the experience to her. Alisia was the one to surprise me most in my family, since she looked at our mother with relief.
So, this is true? We’ve got a ghost… or ghosts, maybe? And, no one bothered to mention any of this to me—Alisia, how could you?!
I suddenly pictured our unsavory neighbor grimacing at me—a man I still didn’t know by name.
That thar’s some shit!
“Meredith has seen her, too,” Julien volunteered, to which his wife nodded reluctantly. She shot him a look that wasn’t hostile, but did carry noticeable regret, as if she would’ve been just as happy to never bring the matter up, and hoping it would soon die. “I wish I could see the spirit for
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