“I don’t think so. Forget the veggies, kids hate veggies,” Mikey advised and Fiona forgot she liked him and gave him a dirty look.
For the past year, one month, three weeks and five days (and then some, considering she was super sick before she died but her Mum had helped with the cooking then), Prentice hadn’t been great on the nutrition front.
Her kids needed their veg.
“How about green beans?” Annie asked.
Peas! Fiona shouted at Isabella.
“Peas,” Isabella said and Fiona stopped floating along with them, her shock and excitement was too profound.
Good God, could the woman hear her?
She was stunned motionless for so long she had to float up and over the shelves to catch them up on the other side.
“What are you making for dessert?” Mikey asked when Fiona arrived.
“No dessert. I don’t want Prentice to think I’m trying to make them like me,” Isabella answered.
Fiona closed her ghostly eyes.
Yesterday, after her beloved husband told off his hated ex-fiancée, Fiona had wished she could kiss him (not for the first time).
Today, she wished she could kick him (also not for the first time, however, it had been the first time since she’d died).
“You make a mean hot fudge sundae,” Annie said to Isabella.
Sally would love an American hot fudge sundae, Fiona told her excitedly. And Jason’s favorite food in the world is clotted cream ice cream. Make that!
“No dessert,” Isabella said softly but firmly in her weird authoritative voice.
Annie halted, Mikey halted with her and both of them glared at Isabella, Mikey adding a cross of the arms on his chest which made his glare far more effective.
“Okay, Debs was out-of-control yesterday. You shouldn’t be surprised about that, Debs was always out-of-control,” Annie stated. “And Prentice got upset with you but you shouldn’t be surprised about that either. First, you dumped him and never explained, which, I will repeat, for the five thousandth time, you should have. Or you should have let me explain it to him and Dougal and Debs and everybody. Something, which I will remind you, you refused to let me do, about… oh, I don’t know? Five thousand times. Or you should have let Dad say something which he’s been wanting to do for years. And last, Prentice lost his wife and he’s on edge. He’s taking care of two kids, running his own firm, his best friend is blissfully happy and his ex-girlfriend is sleeping under his roof.”
“And who arranged that?” Isabella returned coolly and Fiona, floating beside her, nodded in invisible agreement because, especially for Annie, that was underhanded.
Though, Fiona was curious to know what there was to explain and why Isabella wouldn’t let Annie or Fergus do it.
Annie had the good manners to blush.
“I want all the people I love to get along,” she said quietly and Fiona lost her pique.
So did Isabella.
Even so, Isabella walked around the cart to her friend and grabbed Annie’s hand. “First, I think you know why I’ve never explained or let you explain.”
“I know why,” Annie returned. “I just don’t agree.”
“I don’t either,” Mikey put in.
Fiona floated closer.
“I know you both don’t agree,” Isabella replied. “But I believe, deeply, it’s better this way and I’ll ask, again, that you respect my wishes.”
Neither Mikey nor Annie looked happy about this but they didn’t respond.
Isabella continued, “And, I’m sorry Annie, but Prentice doesn’t have to like me. He doesn’t even have to get along with me. He has to put up with for me for one week. Then, sweetie, I’m gone. Don’t put this pressure on him, he’s got enough on his plate. Just let me...” Isabella stopped, her eyes got big, her usually remote face filled with pleasure, making her beauty radiant as it had been the day before when she’d smiled at Fergus then she practically did a small jump in her high-heeled, fancy, posh, brown boots and cried, “I’ve got it!”