I shot her a dark look. “She’s fine.”
Alice twisted her head to meet my gaze. She pulled off her thick Coke-bottle-lensed glasses and cleaned them with a handkerchief. “You haven’t talked to her, have you?”
“Of course I have.”
Alice stared at me for a good long moment before leaning over to Ruth and shouting above the engine. “She hasn’t spoken to her mother.”
“Blissful.” If Ruth could’ve wagged a finger at me and avoided a head-on collision with a tree, I’m pretty sure she would’ve done so. But given that it was dark and the brambles thick, Ruth didn’t partake in any sort of finger wag.
But that didn’t stop her from reprimanding me with her tone. “I’m ashamed that you haven’t spoken to her. This is the woman who gave birth to you.”
“She’s also the nun who gave me up for adoption because she got pregnant by a priest.” I did not try to hide the bitterness in my voice.
“A lot of children are given up for adoption,” Alice added, “and they’re more than happy to meet their birth mothers.”
“Well consider me an anomaly.”
“Why do you want to be different?” Alice said innocently. “You already have violet hair. How much more different do you need to be?”
“It’s not about that.” I swatted a branch before it impaled me. “It’s about the fact that she could’ve kept me. They’d already betrayed their vows. Why’d they have to betray me, too?”
Ruth and Alice exchanged another look.
“What? You think I should just accept her with open arms? Is that it?” I glanced into the dark forest with disgust. “I could’ve used some help with my clairvoyant powers. It’s rough growing up being the only kid who can see ghosts. I got teased a lot.”
“Oh, I completely understand,” Alice said sympathetically. “You should’ve been like me, the only kid who came to school with pockets full of brownies. Every day I’d go to school with those or muffins in my pockets. It didn’t help that I was plump. The kids always made fun of me. But not before they helped themselves to my goodies.”
“They sound like real jerks.”
“They were, and Birda Grice was the worst. You would’ve thought I had sneaked into her bedroom at night and stolen all her Mary Janes the way she snatched at my brownies.”
That entire last sentence sounded completely wrong. The idea of someone snatching Alice’s brownies was enough to make me laugh, but I held it in for fear of Alice questioning my reaction. Me trying to explain why her brownie comment was funny would give me a headache.
“Well, Birda Grice did well enough for herself,” Ruth said. “She wouldn’t want your brownies anymore.”
Small orbs of light winked through the trees. “Are those lights up there?”
“Yep.” Ruth slowed the ATV. “Looks like we’ve just about made it.”
The smell of burning hickory filled the air. “Is someone cooking?”
“Oh, that’s Buster Lindley. He always comes out here and smokes a pork butt. Gives everybody something to eat while we wait until midnight to hunt for the banshee.”
“He smokes a pork butt?” I had to wrap my mind around the idea that somehow this ghost hunt had become a tailgate party.
“And Oscar Dundy brings the pineapple moonshine.”
I folded my arms against a cold breeze. “Well, I’d like to keep my eyesight, so I’m going to stay away from the homemade moonshine.”
Ruth slowed the ATV to a crawl, and we cut a path through the forest until we reached a group of folks who all wore camouflage, same as us.
Lucky me.
I slowly untangled my legs from their cramped position of being tucked half under me. My calves tingled as the blood flowed back into my veins.
“Ugh,” I groaned. “I’m sitting up front on the way back. Alice, you’re just going to have to share your seat.”
“If you say so,” she mumbled. Alice strapped on a hat decorated with small tree branches. One fell straight into her eyes.
