Frowning, I turned toward the staircase. “Jo?”
“Who’s Jo?” Ocean arched a brow. “Mom, please tell me you didn’t go and adopt a kid without running it by me.”
Oh, that look! Definitely her patented Mom knows nothing about teenagers face. I’d seen it before. Far too many times.
“Jo, show yourself NOW.”
“Mom?” Ocean tilted her head, grinning now.
“Jo, I swear, if you don’t show your face this instant, I’ll…” I searched for something, anything. “I’ll replace every lightbulb in this house with LED daylight bulbs. That should keep you up for a century.”
Jo probably had no idea what an LED bulb was, but it apparently did the trick. She materialized at the foot of the stairs, one hand on a hip, face full of attitude, like she’d been dragged home from a 1920s speakeasy. I didn’t miss the little smile she and Ocean exchanged. They were co-conspirators. No doubt.
“You promised me you’d stay away from her.”
Jo batted her lashes, perfectly unrepentant. “Did I? I don’t recall.”
“You remember the talk we had? About us living in California and you being here?”
“We’re all here now, aren’t we?” Ocean chimed.
“I’ll get to you in a minute,” I warned, pointing a finger at my daughter before swinging back to Jo. “I told you I didn’t want you scaring her.”
That set Ocean off in a fit of giggles. Jo, naturally, joined in like they’d rehearsed it.
“The two of you. Behave.”
The laughter only grew louder, echoing through the room like they’d just pulled the world’s funniest prank on me. I should have been angry. I should have kept scolding them. My daughter for sneaking behind my back. Jo for cozying up to her like a secret pen pal from the afterlife.
But I couldn’t. Not when Ocean’s smile looked this easy, this real. Not when Jo, for all her attitude, had slid right up next to my daughter on the bench, the two of them whispering to each other like gossipy old friends.
“Did you know that your mother thinks there are no ghosts in California?” Jo asked, her voice lilting with mock outrage.
Ocean slapped a hand over her mouth, but her eyes sparkled. “Seriously, Mom? No ghosts...what, west of Nevada? Seriously?”
Somehow, quickly and behind my back, the two had formed a relationship that excluded me. And honestly, that was fine. Years ago, after all, I had a friendship with Jo before Clare knew anything about it.
The two of them bantered back and forth. So quick, so in sync, as if they’d been waiting years to find each other.
Watching them, it hit me in an unexpected way. The slightest twinge of jealousy mixed with something softer, better. I wanted to be annoyed, to remind them that I knew Jo first, but instead there was this tug, a strange little relief. Ocean had someone to laugh with, someone who understood her spark. So what, if that someone happened to be a ghost.
Before I could say more, my phone buzzed. The caller ID flashed across the screen. The real estate agent. That hadn’t taken long.
Karen didn’t bother with small talk.
“Bad news,” she said, her voice brisk as ever. “The buyer is backing out. How come you didn’t tell me the house is haunted?”
I blinked. “I’ve been here less than a week. And what exactly makes you think I have a ghost?”
Jo and Ocean had already leaned closer to me, eyes bright with interest, clearly amused to see where this conversation was going. I sighed, couldn’t help myself, and tapped the speaker button. If Karen wanted to lay this on the table, they might as well enjoy the show.
“Well, you do have a ghost. I’m certain of it. I could feel it. The otherworldly essence, the anger, the frustration.”
“Anger? Frustration?” Ocean whispered.
Jo copied her exactly, frown and all, matching her posture and tilt of the head as if they’d choreographed the routine just to drive me insane. Side by side, they sat like accomplices on the bench, hanging on every word, daring me to react.
“I know an excellent medium,” Karen continued, earnest as an online infomercial. “He can rid you of that spirit. I strongly suggest you do that before we put the house on the market.”
