“Come on,” I said, laughing. “You can drop your stuff inside. I don’t want this to be a shock but the place is mostly empty. I cleared out Target’s air mattresses this morning so you won’t be roughing it too hard but my step-grandmother went through a Swedish Death Cleaning phase before she moved to Florida. She left only the bare basics. I haven’t added much.”
“Okay, so you’re sounding less alive now,” Jaime said.
“It’s all right. I promise. And I’m not rattling around here alone. There are spirits everywhere. The twins, of course. They never leave. I talk to myself all the time so it’s nice to have them listening. Also, I chat with at least three or four ghosts every night.”
They all stared at me and then each other for several seconds.
“Oh, honey.” Audrey pressed her fingers to her lips.
“Great,” Emme drawled.
“She’s fucking with us,” Grace said.
I burst out laughing.
“Too soon,” Audrey said with a sharp slice of her hand. “We are not ready for that kind of humor from you.”
Jaime gave a slow shake of her head. “Don’t test me. I’m stronger than I look and I can wrestle your ass into that car. Just try me.”
“No ghosts. No spirits. None that have found me interesting enough to haunt, at least,” I said, still laughing. “And I told you, I see my neighbors. I’m tutoring the little girl at the farm next door.”
“And this girl is alive? You’re certain you aren’t tutoring a ghost?” Grace asked.
“How weird is it to say thefarm next door,” Emme mused.
“Probably less weird when you haven’t spent your entire life in a city,” Audrey replied.
“Great, great,” Emme said. “Can I have a margarita yet? I’d like that to occur soon, and if possible, I’d like it to occur while I’m on the hammock and before Shay pops off with some more concerning comments.”
* * *
“And that’swhy I won’t cut pineapple anymore,” Jaime said. “That little spike from the woody part was in my finger for an entire week and I could barely wash my hair without making it worse so I didn’t go out with him.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” I pushed my sunglasses up and craned my neck to stare at Jaime in the tire swing. “How many people are you dating now?”
“I wouldn’t call it dating. It’s not dating, not the way we usually think of dating.” She held up one finger. “There’s Andre and Honora and Sire—”
“That name,” Emme said. “The volumes it speaks.”
“—and sometimes Hardy.”
“That’s just made up,” Audrey said.
“Nope, I had a Hardy at my last school,” Grace said. “Hardy Woodruff. That kid had no idea what he was in for.”
“—and Clara and Meena, sometimes, but I’m definitely not dating them. More like getting time with them.”
“Wood-ruff,” Audrey said with a snort. That was how you could tell she was tipsy. All her pristine mannerisms and polite, polished façade crumbled, and she snorted at dick jokes.
“And by ‘getting time’ you mean you’re the little spoon in a party-sized cutlery basket,” I said.
“That happened once,” Jaime cried. “It’s usually me and just two or three other people.”
“Just two or three other people,” Grace repeated. “That’s all.”
“I have come to accept that sex with one person is not interesting or fulfilling to me,” Jaime replied. “Two is my minimum right now. I can do two if one is watching, maybe doing stuff nearby, but I prefer the two to be hands-on.”
Audrey laugh-hiccupped. “Like, knitting a scarf? What do you mean, doing stuff nearby? Folding laundry? What? I know I’m outing myself as a plain vanilla Jane but you have me curious. A little confused too.”
