Page 26 of Ghostlighted (Ghost Townies #2)

I paused with my hand on a lemon, my fingers tightening as I stared at the unevenly chopped peppers and onions, the mangled parsley. Other lessons never stuck, no matter how hard you tried.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Avi peered at me, his forehead knotted in concern. “What?”

“My dad could cut vegetables so precisely they were like clockwork gears. Ricky’s family makes food like music.” I pushed the lemon away. “He’ll hate this.”

I picked up the bench knife, but before I could start scraping my pathetic vegetables into the compost bucket, Avi was there in front of me. I could have barged through him, but I wouldn’t. I couldn’t, any more than I’d knock over anybody else who stood in my path.

“Stop it, Maz.”

“Why? It’s nothing but a salad, Avi.”

“So? He’ll like it. I promise.”

I tossed the bench knife onto the counter with a clatter. “It’s not even hot .”

“He’ll like it because you made it.”

“I don’t want him to eat it out of pity or… or obligation. ”

“If I know one thing about the Vargas clan, it’s that for them, eating the food isn’t the point.

The taste, the presentation. Those have value, sure, but they’re secondary.

Sharing the meal is what’s important.” Avi’s gaze was intense, but so kind I had to swallow twice.

“He’ll love it because you made it for him . ”

I turned away from him and braced my hands on the countertop. “Then I guess I need to get over myself, huh?”

“No.” Avi moved to the other side of the counter and sat by folding himself onto the barstool. “You told me once that everybody is entitled to process grief in their own way, and that you never know when it can hit you again. I think that over the past few days, it’s hit you again.”

I rubbed the center of my chest, the same way I’d seen Avi do. “You think?”

“I do. You confronted Greg, and no matter how toxic that relationship was when it ended, you still invested your emotional capital in it.”

I scoffed. “You can’t know that.” Greg had certainly claimed otherwise.

“I know because I know you. You throw yourself into things for people you care about.” Avi gestured to himself. “Even people you haven’t known for long.” He traced his wedding band with a finger. “Even people you never knew at all.”

I swiped a hand under my eyes. “I’m being ridiculous.”

“You’re not. And I’m sorry.”

The obvious sorrow in his tone made me look up. “For what?”

“That Oren never found you.”

I gripped the edge of the counter, focusing on the tumble of vegetables next to my hands. “Do you think he ever actually looked?”

“I don’t know. The last time I saw Oren’s will, your mother was the only named beneficiary.

But he was—” Avi looked away, his throat working.

“He was the most caring man I ever knew. He wouldn’t have intentionally abandoned you.

” He gestured to the salad ingredients. “Any more than your father did. Any more than Sofia would.” A corner of his mouth twitched.

“Not even a certain family member who’s completely undeserving of her devotion. ”

I sighed, my shoulders sagging. “Well, I’ll give Liam a bit of credit. At least he showed up. I expect that’ll mean more to Sofia than anything else.”

“It will help. Sofia may borderline worship Liam, but love isn’t a zero-sum game for her. She gives the Vargases just as much, every one of them.”

“Yeah, but just look at them.” I flung my arms out. “They deserve it.”

“So do you! And it is not your fault that Oren didn’t contact you.”

“It might be. It probably is,” I grumbled. “It usually is.”

“Honestly. Stop gaslighting yourself. Stop letting Greg gaslight you when he’s not even in the picture anymore.

He’s not entitled to any of your headspace ever again.

” He pointed to the counter. “Now dress the fricking salad and go collect the man who does deserve the headspace.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“As well as space in other places, including your bed.”

I clapped my hands over my ears. “Stop! What do I have to do to convince you this is not a booty call?”

“Maybe finish the salad?” He stood. “I’m going back next door.”

I blinked. “Oh. Hey. I forgot to ask how that was going.”

“I’ll forgive you this once.” He gestured to himself.

“Since I’m standing here, you can deduce that I can at least return home.

But I’ve popped back and forth several times.

” He chuckled. “That seems to confuse Gil a bit, but he’s always waiting for me wherever I pop back in.

It’s like he has a special sense and can predict where I’ll appear. ”

“Wait.” My eyebrows dipped. “You’re not just appearing next to the ring?”

“No. It’s a different spot in the house every time.”

I drummed the counter. “Hmmm.”

Avi’s eyes narrowed. “There’s that lightbulb look again.”

Lightbulb, hunh? In this case, he was right on the money. “Did you consider that it might be the other way around?”

“What do you mean?”

“As brilliant as Gil is, he’s not psychic.

I don’t think he’s predicting you.” I waggled my fingers at him.

“I think you’re homing in on him . The same way you can home in on the ring.

” I pointed to the floor. “Or this house. They’re like…

anchors, I guess? Tethers? Something you can use to pull yourself out of wherever you are when you’re not manifesting. ”

His eyebrows rose and he blinked. “You might have something there.” He made a shooing motion with both hands.

“You. Go. Pick up Ricky. I’ll try a few more things.

See if I can consciously pick what anchor I choose or what tether I pull.

Regardless, neither Gil nor I will be interrupting you tonight, so be sure you take advantage of that fact. ”

“It’s not a booty—” But he was gone. I exhaled sharply as I eyed the vegetables. “Evidently, I could use a little comfort tonight, booty or not. So I might as well finish the freaking salad.”