Page 28 of First Street (Harbor View Cozy Fantasy #1)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Skye

Not surprisingly, the moment the agent and her client bolted from the attic, all the commotion vanished. Even the fickle light decided to behave and stay on. I put on my best mother face, what Ocean liked to call my not happy, don’t push it look.

Her smile disappeared and she shrugged in reply to my question. I told her we’d be continuing this conversation downstairs.

I went first, creaking down the attic steps. At the bottom, I caught a glimpse of her bedroom. Clothes everywhere, books tossed like confetti. Jo’s neat-freak ghost energy must’ve short-circuited at the sight. But I had bigger fish to fry than Ocean’s latest hurricane.

A couple of minutes later, she joined me where I was waiting in the front room. I couldn’t miss the change in her attitude, though. Her steps were lighter, her face brighter. She looked more at ease than she had since we’d first driven into Harbor View.

I crossed my arms, leaned my butt against my mother’s desk. She flopped onto a bench across from me with a dramatic sigh, now looking as if she’d been summoned to a courtroom instead of a chat.

“What’s up?” she asked, eyes glinting like she already knew she was in trouble but was willing to audition for innocence anyway.

“You two have met, haven’t you?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at her.

“Which two?” Ocean blinked at me, all fake-innocent. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

“You weren’t afraid upstairs. In fact, you were enjoying yourself.”

She smirked. “Was I supposed to be? What’d I miss...something scary?”

Classic Ocean. And classic Jo. I should’ve guessed they’d find each other. Jo had never been able to resist stirring things up, especially with someone closer to her own age. She hadn’t had that chance since the days when I was still living here.

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.”

“Is the medium good-looking?” Jo said in a stage whisper.

Ocean snorted.

“Thanks for the advice,” I managed to say.

“I can schedule him for next week.”

“Oh, no!” Jo put in, theatrically wounded. “That doesn’t give me much time to vent my anger...or my frustration.”

Good thing the agent couldn’t hear her voice. “That won’t be necessary,” I said.

“I’m serious about this, Skye. The market is hot. You don’t want to miss the window.”

Jo was all mischievous threat now. “She needs to come by, so I can really scare the living daylights out of her.”

Ocean dissolved into stitches. Once Jo had an audience, she didn’t stop. I should have scolded them both for turning my life into a vaudeville act while a realtor tried to run a sale, but their laughter was contagious and, God help me, I was enjoying it.

“How about next Monday?” Karen pressed, practical and unaware of the spectral circus unfolding in my living room.

“No, Karen. I’m good for now. I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

“Do it soon or?—”

“I’ll call you when I’m ready,” I repeated, sharper this time, and ended the call before she could squeeze in another warning note about the real estate market.

By then, Ocean and Jo were in their own world, giggling, tossing out increasingly absurd scenarios about how Jo might terrify prospective buyers.

Chains rattling, light bulbs exploding, dramatic moaning through the air vents.

The two of them were positively gleeful, and I let myself sit back and watch them.

And in that moment, I realized how unfair I’d been, trying to keep them apart. They were both having the time of their lives, and who was I to stand in the way of that…no matter what the future held for us?

“Okay,” I finally said, cutting in. “What are we doing today?”

“How about shopping? You promised me,” Ocean announced, in her head already halfway out the door.

Jo flopped back dramatically. “Fine, go have fun. I’ll just be here, trying to accessorize with the requisite ghostly cobwebs.”