How to Rattle an Undead Couple - Hailey Edwards
One
The cake on the counter, the one with the do not eat sign propped in front of it, tempted me. Lethe had talked Linus and me into a gender reveal cake for my official baby shower, and its interior beckoned. Not because of the secret it held, but because it was a lemon chiffon cake, and I had been craving citrus like crazy for the last three months. The smell of it made me salivate, and breathing in, I almost tasted it.
Maybe no one would notice if I stole a teensy bite? Or a slice? One slice. Who would notice that?
It was my cake, so it wasn’t really stealing. More like sampling. Yeah. Sampling. That sounded less felonious.
Sneaking around to the back, I groaned at the second sign in a larger font.
Get your preggo butt out of the kitchen and away from this cake ASAP.
The curtains on the windows rustled as Woolworth House laughed at my pain and suffering.
“Lethe is so mean,” I complained to Woolly. “Who put her in charge anyway?”
“You did,” the meanie said from the doorway. “Here.”
A cupcake sat on her palm, its frosting a creamy yellow, and delicate spirals of lemon peel adorned the top.
“For me?” I snatched it before she could answer and shoved it into my mouth. “Fank oo.”
“You’re welcome.” She brought her other hand out from behind her back to reveal a second cupcake. “Why don’t we go wait for Neely?”
“Neely is going to force me to look presentable.”
“You’re Dame Woolworth, the Grande Dame’s daughter-in-law, and the Potentate of Savannah. You have to look presentable.” Backing toward the living room, she lured me across the threshold then handed over the treat. “Just sit right here, in the place of honor.”
A wingback chair had been wrapped in pink and blue crepe paper, studded with pink and blue balloons, and sprinkled with pink and blue glitter from the crown I was expected to wear, guaranteeing I would be washing sparkles out of my hair for days.
The living room was freakishly quiet without Keet occupying his usual spot by the window, but the goofball was banished to the office until after our guests left to avoid his farting noises giving the Grande Dame an aneurism.
“You’re not fooling me.” I started on the second cupcake while she eased me onto my throne. “I’m onto you.”
“If you’re implying that I’m using food to motivate you to behave, then yes. You’re right. I am.” She produced a third cupcake from thin air. No. Wait. Oscar handed it to her. The traitor. “You’re about to pop. I’m not too worried about you seeking revenge for my manipulations any time soon.”
The small ghost boy wore his usual dark-blue sailor suit with sagging ankle socks and dirtied canvas shoes. A matching cap, wrinkled within an inch of its life, rested at a jaunty angle on his mass of blond curls.
No smile for me, no eye contact either, proof he was still grumpy the Grande Dame had insisted he remain in his room during the party.
Mad was not a great mood for a poltergeist frozen at the age of six, so I would have to make it up to him if I didn’t want a tantrum later. But he would have to be a good little ghost boy to earn his reward.
Motherhood, even with undead children, was tough. Never let anyone tell you different.
Balling up a sticky wrapper I showed great restraint in not licking clean, I let Oscar sulk while I hurled it at Lethe’s face. “If you tell me you can walk faster than I can waddle one more time…”
Teeth flashing, she laughed at my expense. “You just did it for me.”
The lights dialed brighter then flickered as a thrill shot through Woolly, a sure sign company was coming.
“Mom.” Eva stepped through the front door with a pudgy toddler on her hip. “Be nice to Grier.”
“Thank you, Eva-Diva.” I beamed at her. “I always knew you were my favorite niece for a reason.”
Number one was how she could walk into a room and tell when her mom was being mean to me, which, in my humble opinion, was always. For a girl about to turn three who could pass for a tween, she had maturity in spades.
“I’m your only niece,” she said, as she had a hundred times before, but then a brilliant smile broke across her face, and she kissed the top of the toddler’s head. “Guess I can’t say that anymore, huh?”
“What treachery is this?” Lethe gaped at her offspring.