Spooky Business (The Spectral Files #3) - S.E. Harmon Page 0,56

be a sign in Sky’s kitchen inscribed with the phrase run for your life. I speared a piece of Tofurkey with my fork, stuck it in my mouth, and chewed grimly. I wanted a word with whoever created that culinary fuckery, STAT.

Tofurkey aside—way aside, like on the next block aside—sitting down to dinner with family felt wonderfully normal. Conversation flowed around the table, easy and light… for the most part.

I was seated at Danny’s left, but he didn’t seem too interested in talking with me. He was, however, keen on having a sparkling conversation with Rick about baseball. I listened wistfully, trying to seem like I wasn’t. I thought baseball was slightly less boring than watching grass grow, but fuck, I hated being ignored by Danny.

I shoveled the last bit of yellow stuff in my mouth. Once I’d realized it was butternut squash macaroni, I had to admit it wasn’t half bad. It proved my theory that real cheese made just about anything palatable. Thank you, Lord, for the blessings of Colby Jack.

I held out my plate for more, and my sister ladled me out a scoop. “I’m glad you like it,” she said. “It’s a new recipe I found on Pinterest. You’d never guess it was healthy, would you?”

Yes, I would. Carbohydrates and I were old friends, the best of friends. My stomach knew when carbs were missing and when to file a police report.

“It’s not half bad,” I mumbled around a mouthful.

“One serving has more potassium than a banana,” Kassi piped up.

“Where’d you hear that?” Kari demanded.

“I watched a special on the Food Network.” Kassi flipped her hair, nose in the air. I tried not to smile, but that girl was Skylar’s daughter through and through. “I know what I’m talking about. I always do. That’s why I get better grades than you.”

By a landslide, actually. I used to love rubbing my straight A report cards in my sister’s flustered face. Sky sent me a narrow-eyed glance, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. Guess she hadn’t forgotten those days either.

To no one’s surprise, Kari found the disparaging of her straight C average objectionable. “You do not,” she snapped. “And grades aren’t everything.”

“I do too!”

Skylar sighed. “Rick.”

“Girls,” he said mildly. Entirely too used to his children’s ways, he didn’t even look up from his plate.

“Leave a little room for dessert, you guys,” Skylar said with a smile. She gestured toward a plate on the kitchen counter. “I made cookies. Chocolate chip.”

My heart soared… until I saw the so-called cookies on the serving dish. I should’ve known better. They didn’t look like any chocolate chip cookies I’d ever seen.

“Why are they green?” Danny blurted.

“It’s a new recipe I found on a clean-living forum. You use apple juice and pureed broccoli.”

Jesus wept.

Danny kicked my foot, and I realized I’d spoken aloud. “I mean, that sounds delicious. Can’t wait.”

“So, how are things at work?” Rick said, a twinkle in his eye.

I was thankful he diverted attention away from the apple juice and broccoli chip cookies. Still, work was another topic I had no desire to discuss.

“Good,” Danny said.

“Great,” I said at the same time.

Rick raised an eyebrow. “That sounds convincing.”

“Uncle Rain, do we have any ghosts?” Kari asked.

“Er, not that I see.”

“Can you call some up?” She persisted. “Maybe banish them from the earth?”

“Definitely not.”

Her face fell, clearly disappointed that I couldn’t do anything even remotely cool with spirits. “So what can you do with them?”

“Not much.” I hid a smile as her face fell farther. “Just the way I like it.”

Rick shook his head. “It all seems kind of dangerous to me. There are just so many things you don’t know about it. So many things that could go wrong.”

“It’s not as bad as all that.” I stabbed my fork in a cube of Tofurkey and it fell apart into crumbles. I glanced up at the circle of doubtful faces around the table. “It isn’t,” I insisted.

Recent developments with Joey aside, that is, which no one needed to know about. I sent Sky a squinty-eyed glare lest she forget that Vegas rules applied, and what we talked about on the roof stayed on the fucking roof.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll get better and better at this ghosting business,” Rick said with his usual positivity. “I mean, look at what you’ve learned already. Imagine how much better the PTU will be next year.”

“I don’t know if there’ll be a PTU next year,” Danny said mildly. “Sticking around