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  He raised an eyebrow. “Because maybe we’ll get lucky and the spirits in this house won’t like them. The Gilberts might not have been here long enough last time to rile anybody up.”

  I held back on my urge to throw my arms around him with gratitude, knowing that to touch him would be my undoing. Instead, I simply grinned. “Great idea. I hope it works.”

  “Me, too,” he said, regarding me with intensity for a moment before turning away again. He shoved his hands in his pockets, then began walking down the piazza. Before he disappeared through the door, he called back, “I think that was almost-kiss number eight. Not that you’re counting.”

  I pressed my palms against my warm cheeks, embarrassed to have actually thought that he hadn’t realized I’d tilted my head and parted my lips for him.

  I closed the front door and stepped into the foyer, catching sight of Nola sitting in the middle of the stairs and holding a very contented General Lee. “So did he say I could live here?”

  “Um, we agreed you can stay here for a few days. But he is your father, Nola, and he does love you. He’s just learning how to be a dad.”

  “Isn’t there some senior-citizen college course he can take instead of torturing me? He doesn’t have a clue.”

  I sat down on the steps in front of her and reached up to scratch General Lee behind his ears. “Probably not. But he does love you, Nola. Don’t ever forget that.”

  She fixed me with a hard blue stare that reminded me so much of Jack that I had to look away. “Did he tell you what we were fighting about tonight?”

  I shook my head. “No. Does it matter?”

  “Obvi.”

  I stared at her, not understanding.

  “Ob-vi-ous-ly,” she said, speaking slowly, as if I were hard of hearing, very old, or very stupid. Or all three.

  “I still don’t get it. Why would it matter?”

  Her eyes rolled. I was glad eye rolling didn’t leave wrinkles, because by the age of twenty she’d look like an octogenarian. “Because,” she said, emphasizing the second syllable, “it was about you.”

  “Me? Why would you be arguing about me?”

  She sighed as if she didn’t have the energy for another eye roll. “Because it’s stupid that you’re both trying to pretend that you’re not totally obsessed with each other. I mean, everybody knows you hooked up.” Her eyes drifted to my abdomen. “But, like, you’d have to be blind not to see it’s more than that.”

  She leaned back against the step behind her and threw her arm across her forehead with a dramatic sweep. “I’m flippin’ exhausted listening to you both give me reasons why you’re not together. You both need to grow up and admit you’re wrong, say, ‘I love you,’ get married or whatevs, and give the rest of us some peace.”

  When I didn’t say anything right away, she lifted her head. “What-e-ver. Do I need to get you an urban dictionary or something so we can have future conversations?”

  I took a deep breath, having no idea how I was supposed to respond. It was hard to remember that she was only fourteen, although her first thirteen years had taught her more about life than most people learned in forty. “Nola, I think maybe you’re misinterpreting your father’s feelings. . . .”

  She lifted both hands in the air as if appealing to a large audience. “Seriously, Mellie? He sold his Porsche. For a minivan. Need I say more?”

  Both Nola and General Lee settled their gazes on me, as if I were the only one who wasn’t seeing the light. “Yes, well, I appreciate your trying to fix things for your father and me, but I’m afraid our reasons are very complicated. It’s not as simple as our just apologizing.”

  She lifted her head again and narrowed her eyes at me. “Have either one of you actually tried it?”

  “Of course . . .” I started to say, before stopping as it occurred to me that I might be lying.

  She sat up again. “Growing up with a single parent is tough. Believe me, I know. And even if you and Jack are partners in this whole thing, it won’t be the same. I’m not saying you should get together just because you’re pregnant, but it seems to me that you should be able to figure something out. I mean, you’re both getting pretty old. You might not get another chance.”

  I was about to ask her what she meant when the distinct sound of a piano key striking drifted up from the music room.

  Nola looked at me with surprise. “Is there somebody else here?”

  “Sort of,” I said.

  Her eyes widened. “You mean like a ghost?”

  “Obvi.”

  Nola smirked while we both stood, waiting. General Lee whimpered, then ran back up the stairs, disappearing into Nola’s room.

  Another note struck, louder this time, as if the key were being hit with force. Slowly, we began to walk down the stairs, the temperature dropping several degrees with each step. Before we’d reached the doorway to the unoccupied music room, a third note sounded, louder than the first two.

  “Those are the same three notes that always stick when I play.” Nola’s words came out with billows of frosty air. “Do you see anything?” she whispered.

  I peered into the room, hoping I’d see the ghost almost as much as I hoped I wouldn’t. I shook my head and whispered back, “No. But there’s definitely somebody in here.”

  Nola sucked in a large gulp of air. With a tone of surprise, she said, “It’s E, C, and A.” She turned to me, her eyes wide. “I think your ghost might be trying to tell us something.”

  Before her words had completely registered in my mind, the prop holding up the top board of the piano shot out as if hit by an unseen hand, sending the lid crashing down onto the piano in a cacophony of rattling keys accompanied by the unmistakable mewling cry of a newborn baby.

  Grabbing Nola’s arm, I said, “I think you might be right.”

  CHAPTER 15

  I sat in the rope swing beneath the branches of the old oak, swaying from side to side, my thoughts mimicking the action. I watched with some detachment as a small group of family members and friends milled around the tables of food prepared by Mrs. Houlihan and Sophie—the edible and inedible, as I defined them.

  My parents stood near the sweet-tea pitchers putting ice in glasses, their heads bent together. My dad said something in my mother’s ear, making her giggle. Jack stood on one side of the food tables with his hands on his hips, facing Nola and Alston and Alston’s brother, Cooper, as the latter selected a flaxseed-and-carob-chip cookie that Nola had contributed to Sophie’s table. To a stranger, it would appear that Jack was smiling, but to me it was definitely more like a glower.

  Cooper was exactly as I’d pictured him, tall and slender like Alston, with a close-cropped cadet haircut, impeccable manners, an easy smile, and a firm handshake. And he read Tolstoy. He looked smart in his cadet summer-leave uniform of gray trousers, white short-sleeved shirt with shoulder boards, and white hat, and neither Nola nor I could find any fault in his appearance. He was three years older than Nola, but from what I could tell, they were just friends with common interests. Which made it even more fun for me to watch Jack react.

  Sophie’s husband, Chad—wearing Birkenstocks with socks—was chatting with Jack’s mother, Amelia, while Jack’s dad, John, sat in the shade next to her wearing a seersucker suit and straw hat, the consummate Charleston gentleman. I could never decide whether Jack got his charm from his father or his mother. But when I caught sight of John Trenholm smiling, I couldn’t help but think it was probably both, maybe leaning a little heavily toward the Trenholm side. Judging by the grandparents on both sides, I was fairly confident that the twins had a good chance of ending up charming, smart, good-looking, or all three. They might also be able to see dead people, but I wasn’t prepared to go there yet.

  Sophie stood on the edge of the garden near the flagstone path that led from the kitchen door to the front of the house. She looked as if she were part of the garden, with her garish floral A-line dress, paisley scarf tossed carelessly around her neck, and lime g
reen Birkenstocks. I wanted to ask her whether the latter had been custom ordered, but then decided that I really didn’t want to know.

  She was pretending to follow the conversation between Nola, Alston, and Cooper while she sipped at a tall glass of water with organic lemon, but she was keeping an eye on the curb in front of my house like a cat at a mouse hole.

  I continued to sway on the swing, too hot and tired to eat or do more than say hello to my guests. The main goal of the whole gathering was to tell everyone about the twins. Despite the new awkwardness between Jack and me caused by my words the previous evening, I was looking forward to the announcement.

  The only other fly in the proverbial ointment was the Gilberts. Mr. Drayton said they had accepted my invitation and would be stopping by the barbecue. Despite Jack’s plans to frighten them off, I couldn’t easily dismiss their claims, as much as I wanted to, at least without knowing what other ammunition they had besides the baby bonnet. And I had a horrible feeling that I was about to find out. Even worse, the person I’d want to turn to with my disappointment was the one person I couldn’t.

  The sound of the fountain made me want to go to the bathroom again, and I was about to stand and move inside when Sophie perked up like a hunting dog on the scent of a fox. Our eyes met, and she didn’t need to tell me that the Gilberts had arrived.

  Sophie greeted them warmly as I approached, the chatter of the already assembled group diminishing somewhat behind me. The Gilberts appeared pretty much as they had when I’d first met them, wearing jeans and T-shirts, Irene’s face freshly scrubbed and makeup-free.

  I could almost feel my mother’s finger prodding me in my back as I struggled to find a cordial greeting. I held out my hand to George, and then Irene. “We’re happy that you were able to make it today, at the very least so I’d have a chance to thank you for your nursing care when I fainted the other day.”

  Irene smiled, her brown eyes warm behind her glasses. “Thank you for having us, and I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

  I really wanted to dislike her, but there was nothing frightening or menacing about either her or her husband. They were the soccer parents always on the front row, constantly driving somewhere for some kind of game or activity, or in the drive-through line at Starbucks or McDonald’s in their minivan. They probably went to Disney World in the spring and the beach in the fall, because that was what families like the Gilberts did. They were the kind of people you wanted to live next door to you, because instead of giving you the cup of flour you needed to borrow, they’d give you the whole bag, just in case you needed more. The only thing wrong with them was that they believed they were the rightful owners of my house.

  “I am, thank you. It was just a pregnancy thing,” I acknowledged.

  Irene laughed. “Oh, don’t I know a thing or two about that!”

  I was about to ask her something about her children when I noticed Mr. Drayton walking up the path toward the house. I’d invited him only because I’d needed him to communicate with the Gilberts for me. I hadn’t actually thought he’d come. Apparently neither had he. He wore a dark, three-piece suit and starched white shirt—with a matching white pocket square in his jacket pocket. He looked like a black candle already lit by a flame and getting ready to melt.

  Jack appeared by my side to greet the old lawyer before dragging him away toward the food table. The look he shot over at Sophie said that he was clearing the decks so that she and I could do what needed to be done.

  As if on cue, Sophie allowed her shoulders to hunch. “We are so pleased you could make it. And I apologize that it’s all outdoors, since you’re from up north and probably not used to our summers here. I mean, here it is, almost October, and it’s hotter than Hades! But the air-conditioning has been pretty flaky lately, and we can’t seem to cool down the first floor. At least out here we have a little bit of a breeze. We just hope and pray it’s not caused by the movement of wings by a flock of those palmetto bugs. That’s a sight you should see! Maybe we’ll get lucky and you can experience it firsthand tonight.”

  Irene and George took a noticeable step closer to each other, each darting a wary glance up at the bright blue sky.

  “They’re really that big?” George asked as Sophie began escorting them toward the rest of the party.

  Sophie gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “Well, I might be exaggerating a little bit,” she said, holding up her thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. “But let’s just say you wouldn’t want one of those little buggers getting sucked into your plane’s engine.”

  Sophie and I took the couple around the garden and introduced them to everyone, and my estimation of them increased when they filled their plates with fried chicken, barbecued shrimp, and pork ribs instead of the soy burgers and Tofurky hot dogs.

  Chad joined us as we sat down at one of the cloth-covered tables, clapping his hands loudly around and beneath the table after he’d set down his plate of food. Before I could ask Sophie whether he’d been hit in the head or was just feeling the pressure of impending fatherhood, she turned to the Gilberts.

  “Palmetto bugs don’t like loud sounds. When I’m visiting Melanie, I always make sure to stomp or clap really loudly before entering any room.”

  The couple stared at her, their bespectacled eyes blinking in unison.

  “What’s going on with the yellow tape?” George asked.

  I glanced over at my dad, who decided at that moment that he needed to analyze the carob-chip cookies as if they might be hiding something valuable. He’d told me he’d already spoken with Rich Kobylt and the tape and debris were supposed to have been removed before the party. In my distracted state, I hadn’t even noticed that nothing had been touched.

  “Wellll,” Sophie said, drawing out the word. “You already know about the dead body discovered in the foundation. One of three dead bodies found on the property, just in case you weren’t already aware. We can only hope and pray there aren’t any more!” She smiled widely. “But if the house hadn’t been on the verge of collapse, we wouldn’t have found this last one.” She took a bite of her Tofurky burger and chewed thoughtfully as the Gilberts exchanged glances.

  Irene Gilbert coughed. “Three dead bodies?”

  Chad waved his hand at them. “Oh, don’t worry about them. Two were dug up last year and buried. That’s why the fountain’s working again.”

  I saw Mr. Drayton listening intently to the conversation and looking like he was about to intervene, when Jack accidentally spilled his glass of water on the lawyer’s pants. My mother immediately went into action, escorting Mr. Drayton to the kitchen and dry towels.

  “Well, that’s good, I suppose,” Irene said. “But what did you mean by ‘on the verge of collapse’?”

  She directed her question at me, so I had no choice to answer honestly, since I hadn’t been prepped like everybody else seemed to have been. “Um, not exactly. It was just that the foundation had cracked, which isn’t good, but it was far from being on the ‘verge of collapse.’ I mean, I guess it could have been if we hadn’t had it repaired.”

  “At great expense,” Sophie interjected. “You know what they call old houses around here, don’t you?”

  My eyes widened as I prepared to hear Sophie repeat my own words. “They’re like a boil on your behind. They’re always there, claiming your undivided attention whenever you want to sit down and rest.”

  Jack approached, apparently satisfied that Alston was sitting on one of the garden benches between Cooper and Nola, all eating off of plates in their laps. It hadn’t escaped my notice that Cooper had helped himself from both food tables and seemed to be enjoying dipping Amelia’s gourmet cheese straws into Sophie’s homemade hummus.

  Jack stood at the opposite end of the table behind Sophie, his eyes trained on me. “Did Mellie tell you what happened to the antique lighting fixture in the vestibule?”

  All heads turned in my direction. I quickly swallowed my bite of fried chicken. “It fell.” I watched
as General Lee removed himself from under the shade of the table and planted himself on top of Irene’s feet. He bent his head, tilting it from side to side, as if unseen hands were scratching him behind his ears.

  In that one movement, I knew with all certainty that Jack’s plan wasn’t going to work.

  There was something not right about how calm the air was, how warm the breeze on my skin. For the first time in my life, I wished I could see the spirit who was here. Maybe then I could understand why it was making its presence known by petting my dog, and making these two strangers feel at home. Because they are home, the voice inside my head whispered.

  Jack’s voice refocused my attention. “Melanie thinks it was a ghost. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time something unexplainable happened. I know I won’t look in any of the mirrors inside the house. I’m always afraid I might see something standing behind me.”

  After a dramatic pause in which it seemed he was waiting for something to happen, he smiled, but his face retained a sinister cast, something I hadn’t seen since the day I’d told him that I loved him. He turned to me, his eyebrows lifting in silent appeal, and it wasn’t hard for me to figure out what he wanted me to do next. As if I could conjure spirits; as if by raising my hands a whirlwind of brittle leaves and foggy air would magically appear as the dead eased themselves from the earth. But that happened only in movies. Just like happy endings.

  I stood, hitting the side of my glass with a spoon to get everyone’s attention. “I . . . um, Jack and I have an announcement to make.” Jack moved to my side as the conversations ceased and the small gathering focused on us. I kept waiting for Jack to touch me, to take my hand or put his arm around me, but he didn’t. Just like I thought I wanted.

  He leaned toward me to whisper in my ear, “Where’s the angry ghost? The one who was playing the piano last night for you and Nola?”

  “She’s here,” I whispered back. “But I’m afraid it’s not the Gilberts she’s angry with.”

  He sucked in a quick breath. “Don’t give up too quickly, Mellie.”