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I ended up taking George home, because what else was I supposed to do with a stray ghost? Besides, I could use the conversation. And a tiny part of me was hoping he could help on the wicked stepmother thing.
That probably sounds harsh. I mean, he had died yesterday. He was probably in turmoil. Not so. Regardless of how people feel on this side after death, it ain’t the same for ghosts. Sure, he’d had a little hissy fit, but he seemed to be over it, now. That was usually the case. They throw a tantrum for attention and then realize it doesn’t really have the same effect anymore. Lucies don’t feel like we do. Doesn’t stop them being a bunch of jerks, though.
‘Can I ask you something?’ George whispered, as we walked past somebody.
‘You don’t need to whisper, they can’t hear you,’ I informed him. She was wearing headphones, so I avoided a look for once. Hey, maybe things were looking up.
‘Sorry.’
‘No problemo. What was your question?’
‘Who was your first?’
‘Uh, excuse me?’ I asked tartly, feeling myself blush. He caught sight of my embarrassment and hastened to make amends.
‘Not like that! Your first, um...’ he trailed off, gesturing to himself.
‘My first lucy?’ I translated.
‘Was that her name? Sounds young,’ he shuddered.
We turned the final corner to my street and passed another person. Well, I passed him. George almost went through him but apparently he couldn’t deal with that right now. He comically threw himself out of the way and through a bush, causing me to grin maniacally at my neighbor.
‘Hi, Mr. Rogers,’ I greeted to save some face.
He gave me a nervous nod and quickened his step.
‘You alright?’ I called into the hedge. I could feel Mr. Rogers turning around but I forced myself not to look at him.
‘Yeah. That was weird. Can he feel me, like, going through him?’ George asked, baring his teeth at the thought. He rejoined me on the sidewalk briefly and then turned back to the hedge, thinking. I rolled my eyes as he decided walking through it was better than walking like a human.
‘Nope. Not that I know of, anyway. I’ve seen a couple of people shiver, but that may have been my imagination.’
‘Why am I not falling through the ground?’ he randomly pondered, throwing himself at the floor with wild abandon. I blinked at him.
‘Uh, do you want to?’
He shrugged, his arms steadfastly refusing to go through the slabs of concrete that paved my street. He gave it his all nevertheless. I watched him flop about like a drowning fish until he eventually gave up. I checked my watch. He’d spent five minutes doing that.
‘It’d be interesting, is all,’ he pouted, standing up.
He waited. I waited.
‘What?’ I asked.
‘Why can’t I go through?’
‘Well, you’re in limbo,’ I answered, resuming my casual pace. He kept up, skipping through the picket fences and hedges. I could see that eventually getting old. ‘You’re neither down there nor up there. You’re still here. So, you can’t go either way until your earthly business is dealt with.’
‘Seriously?’ he asked, awestruck.
I shrugged.
‘Haven’t a clue. I am completely taking a stab in the dark here.’
He scowled.
‘That’s not helpful.’
‘I help in other ways,’ I told him mysteriously.
‘I’ll believe that when I see it. Who’s Lucy?’ he went on before I could snipe back.
‘Uh, no-one. I call you guys lucies,’ I clarified. Or not, if his face was anything to go by.
‘Short for translucent people,’ I said slowly, aware of how stupidly politically correct it sounded. I defended myself before he could attack. ‘I was like, ten! The first time I’d heard the word “translucent” was from a ghost named Lucy, and it fit. It was better saying I’m talking to Lucy than a ghost. My dad still thinks I have about eight friends called Lucy. Jokes on him, I’ve got zero. Total.’
He was still staring open-mouthed at me. Great. He was the dead guy, and yet somehow I was the weirdo here.
‘It’s not that,’ he murmured. I noticed then that his eyes were not looking at me. He was instead looking all around, with a sense of familiarity. Oh.
‘You recognize this street. You lived around here,’ I finally deduced. I hadn’t realized the victim was a neighbor, but then who knows all their neighbors? Stiffly nodding, he immediately planted his eyes on the ground with only swift glances at my feet.
‘It’s not far. I live in the big house in the middle,’ I informed him, hurrying along.
‘I’ll meet you there.’
‘Third floor, second bedroom. You can go through walls!’ I called, as he ran as fast as ghostly possible. I darted after him but couldn’t catch up. Physicality was not my strong suit.
Neither was anything else, but hey, at least I was rich.
Slowing down, I perused my neighbor’s houses that I’d never given a second glance before and wondered which one was George’s. He didn’t seem like an untidy person, so I ruled out house number 18 with its overgrown garden. He hadn’t mentioned any siblings, so I guessed the bungalow with four pink trikes outside wasn’t his either. Now that I thought about it, the architecture on my road was completely bizarre. My home stood proudly in the middle, like the focal point or something. It was the biggest by far; what could realistically be described as a mansion. Three floors, nineteen rooms in total with a built-in garage and pool in the back. It was the type of house that’d be perfect for parties for all of my nonexistent friends. I think my dad was eternally disappointed that I wasn’t as popular as he’d been. And still is.
Thinking of my dad brought me back to my new mommy. She’d been bandaged enough times to be called that in the Egyptian sense of the word. I didn’t get it. Her only asset had been her looks, and she barely even had those anymore. Hopefully my dad would come to his senses before he married Botox Barbie.
I was so irate thinking about her that I crashed into Mr. Randle, one of the few neighbors I knew by name, knocking him to the ground. Sheepishly helping him up, I realized that his red-rimmed eyes had tears in and he should’ve been in work at this time. He shakily accepted my hand and attempted to smile, but it vanished as quickly as it had arisen.
‘Mr. Randle? Are you alright?’ I asked him all the same.
‘No, I’m not. I don’t think I’ll be right ever again.’
It was then that I belatedly remembered he’d recently lost his child. Yeah, another dead person. It feels like I’m surrounded by dead guys. Or maybe I just take more notice than most people.
I tried to cover my awkwardness by offering to walk him home. He was a kindly man, who worked in the city at an insurance firm. He always wore cardigans over a check shirt, and today was no different, even if neither were buttoned correctly. He seemed to be on the brink of simply collapsing but he held on, just. I took a firm but caring hold of his arm and led him home, waiting for him to say something. He didn’t. Possibly that was due to my reputation, shall we say. “Sorry for your loss,” however bland, is usually preferred over “he’s actually right behind you.” Some things aren’t meant for people to know.
Emotionally whacked, I waved him goodbye and headed home. I was too preoccupied with the drama I’d suddenly found myself in to use the back entrance as usual, and I managed to catch Stacy in the hallway. This was turning out to be a fabulous day.
‘Hey, Bree!’ she trilled, her misshapen maw trying to act out a smile. I shuddered.
‘It’s Ann, Stacy,’ I said through gritted teeth.
‘Sorry! I know you said that, but I just think it’s a really old name.’
‘More suited to you?’
Her smile faltered and settled into the usual grimace she reserved for me. Her eyebrows struggled against their jailor to show anxiety, but she only looked like she really needed to use the bathroom.
‘Look, I know we’ve kinda gotten off on the wrong foot, but I want us to be friends. Shaun and I have set a date for June 21st-’
‘That’s next month,’ I interrupted. She nodded. Oh hell no, this was not happening on my watch. ‘That’s fast. You’re not...’
My eyes drifted down to her perfectly-tanned stomach. Really, a crop top at her age? God, she made it so difficult to like her.
‘Oh no, oh no! God, no. No, I am not pregnant,’ she cried, gasping for breath.
‘Oh, wow. I really thought you were ready to pop,’ I grinned, eyes lingering on her torso. It had the intended effect and I distinctly saw her abs tense.
‘Maybe I’ve been a little lax on my diet- look, I’m not pregnant,’ she sighed. ‘I don’t want to fight, Ann. I really do want to get to know you properly. I love your father, and he loves me. We want to make a go of it.’
‘Sure you do. Is that a diamond?’ I gasped, looking at the boulder on her engagement ring. She covered it, embarrassed. I was pleased to see her flush. Good to know she had some humility left in her. I made a move to skip past her but she blocked my path, exasperated.
‘I know your dad has had girlfriends in the past who only wanted money, but I’m not like that. We’ve known each other for years. I know Shaun has told you this before, but you don’t seem to want to listen. I love him, Ann. Nothing will change that.’
Okay, I was definitely in the midst of a soap opera. I half-expected her to fall to her knees and scream at the top of her lungs. Now, that would be a sight.
Unfortunately, she seemed deadly serious. She’d dug her manicured talons right into my dad’s heart and wallet and she wasn’t letting go.
‘Can we be honest?’ she pleaded.
I nodded, not expecting her to be.
‘You’ve had issues. I know that. I know this will be difficult. But I’m here for you. I’m not going to be your mom, honey. Nobody can replace her. But I can be a friend. You can talk to me, about anything. Anything at all.’
I could almost picture it. I’d dye my hair the same cigarette-stain yellow, and I’d rub Cheetos on my skin to match her tan, and we’d stop eating gluten and whatever other ingredient was totally gross right now. And my IQ would drop steadily until I was a burbling bimbo like her.
At least my dad would be happy.
‘I don’t think that’s gonna happen,’ I told her.
‘Why not?’ she pouted. Wow, I really wanted to slap her.
‘Still being honest?’
‘Yeah, of course,’ she grinned.
‘You don’t know the least of my issues. And you never will, because I don’t like or trust you. You’re only with my dad for his money, and I will not let you marry him. Not in this life or any other.’
‘I heard you talking last night,’ she blurted out. ‘I know what you’re going through.’
‘Really?’ I chuckled. ‘Then, you’ll know I’m being serious when I say I will do whatever it takes to get rid of you.’
Finally, some movement on her face. A crack, maybe.
‘Are you alright?’ I asked, concerned.
‘Excuse me. I have to make a phone call,’ she said icily.
I watched her stiffly make her way to the lounge, pulling out her cell as she did. There were tears before she even closed the door. Botox Barbie was gone.
I felt nothing but relief. I wanted to dance my way up the stairs but I met George, frowning down at me.
‘What?’ I asked innocently.
‘She seemed sincere,’ he told me. Ugh, not another one fooled. What was it with men and a pair of overblown breasts?
‘She seems a lot of things, but she’s not any of them. One thing I will say is she’s a good actress. Maybe if she’d moved to LA, her life could’ve been different.’
But instead, she’d given up on a life of work to steal my father’s hard-earned cash. Try to, anyway.
‘Your dad seems happy,’ George went on, gesturing to a corny photo shoot they’d done. I hadn’t been invited, of course. Wouldn’t want to ruin the photographs now, would I?
‘My dad has been looking for a mother-figure ever since I was born. I’ve tried telling him that he’s the only parent I want, but he doesn’t listen.’
‘So, you’re worried your dad will leave you or something if he gets close to someone?’
‘Uh, no. I’m worried that my dad will lose his head over a bunch of silicone with bleached blond hair.’
The door to the lounge opened below and I looked up in time to see her take her engagement ring off and leave it in the key bowl in the hallway. She sniffled as she walked out of my home, closing the door gently behind her.
‘Bye, Stacy,’ I called after her, immediately turning back to George. He had an unreadable expression on his face.
‘What?’
He only shook his head.
‘This has been going on for years. You caught the tail end of the saga, believe me. Now are you coming upstairs, or what?’
Stupid question, since he had no other option. He begrudgingly followed me up the winding staircase, grimacing at the amount of cheesy photographs my dad and Stacy had taken together. See, I knew he’d see reason eventually. I let him peer at them a while longer as I went to my bedroom, switching on my TV. Taking a deep breath, I readied myself to ask him the most important question on my mind. He stiffened as he walked into my room.
‘What is it?’ he asked, beginning to panic.
I picked up a couple of Blu-rays and showed him the covers.
‘Do you like Steven Seagal?’