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“And bore witness six times,” Trey finished.

Sonya got up to help. “It’s going to take all seven, isn’t it?”

“I think so.” Trey gave her shoulder a squeeze.

“Add one more element.” With one eye on Owen and her green beans, Cleo took the rest out of the oven.

“The paintings. It follows,” Sonya decided. “We need all seven brides. I don’t know what the hell happens then, but we need all seven. On the wall, and through the mirror.”

She set the bread on the table, then looked around.

Trey, letting the pets in, giving them treats to entertain them while the humans ate. Owen tossing beans in butter and something she couldn’t identify. Cleo arranging chops and potatoes on a platter.

Just a normal dinner with friends.

“I don’t know whether to be nervous or comforted by all that hasn’t happened yet. I do know I’m glad you’re all here.”

Clover added her presence as “With a Little Help from My Friends” played.

“And you, too, Clover. All of you.”

Owen carried the bowl of beans to the table. “What did you do to those potatoes?”

“I made them musical instruments.”

It took him a second, then he sat and put one on his plate. “Accordions. Cool. Let’s see how they play.”

They played very well and added to an easy dinner at home. At Cleo’s suggestion, they had a glass of post-dinner wine in the solarium.

“When I finish my mermaid project, I want to find out more about all these plants. Look, Son, we got more blooming.”

“We’ll both find out more. I need to spend more time in here anyway. It’s so pretty, and it’s nice on an evening like this. I’ve popped in to water, but they never seem to need it.”

“Same here. Everything’s always thriving.”

“I wonder if Molly handles this, too.”

Clover answered that with “Eleanor Rigby.”

“Eleanor.” Sonya leaned her head against Trey’s shoulder. “I wonder what happened to Eleanor. I hope she was happy here.”

“I think anyone who wasn’t wouldn’t spend their afterlife taking care of plants, or making beds, playing with dogs.”

“And cat.” Cleo lifted her glass to Trey. “And I agree. If you put all things Dobbs aside, this has been a good house for a couple hundred years.”

“Here’s a thought.” With Jones sprawled beside him and Pye curled in his lap, Owen stretched out his legs. “Do they all know each other? They’re all not from the same time frame, right? Do they have like ghost meetings? Holiday parties?”

“That’s actually not a completely stupid question.”

Owen only grinned at Cleo, and scratched the cat between the ears.

“I’m going with aware, at least aware of each other. And maybe time frames don’t matter so much after death,” Trey added with a shrug. “I think place matters more. They had to die here. Of course, that’s applying the logical to what should be illogical.”

“We’re living in the illogical—or what used to be illogical for me,” Sonya pointed out. “And I really hope they have holiday parties.”

“Clover’d bring the music.”

Sonya grinned at Cleo. “Wouldn’t she? And I agree about place over time. We’ve all seen Dobbs now. Trey’s seen Clover three times. I caught a glimpse of Jack, and I really think it’s Molly in the window of my bedroom. Cleo’s seen her in the window, too. Just the shadow, the silhouette, but it’s real.”