Page 111 of Ghostly

“Gabe?” Wynona leaned on the doorway to the bedroom, playing with the bow on her silk purple robe. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Just a second.”

“You said you were done with work for the day.”

“It’s an emergency from Ollie. You know how he gets.”

“Well… don’t let me wait for too long.” She winked at him and disappeared into the darkened bedroom.

Over the mental barrier. Over the mental barrier. Over the mental barrier.

But instead, Gabriel stayed rooted to the spot, the blueish light of the screen illuminating the sofa. Minutes went by, and he waited and waited, until he assumed enough time had passed. He closed the laptop and tiptoed to the bedroom. Wynona’s quiet, even breathing confirmed his wish: she’d fallen asleep. Slowly, careful not to shake the mattress, he sat down on his side of the bed and stared into the dark.

Maybe he could try to get over the mental barrier tomorrow.

He opened the drawer of the bedside table and fished out the small, tacky silver locket. He squeezed his fingers around it and waited until the gentle bliss took over, dulling the tightness in his chest.

Ida had said she’d been thinking of him when she created the amulet. Was that what she’d felt? It was warm and bright and pure and, most of all, real. As much as Ida was immaterial, the emotions he felt holding the locket were more real than any he’d experienced during the past weeks.

He put the locket back and turned to Wynona. He’d considered using the locket to help him with their relationship, but even the thought felt dirty. Maybe one day, he’d feel the same happiness again without having to rely on it. He lay down as far away as he could from Wynona and told himself he wanted that day to come soon.

***

“Get moving. Please, Shawn.” Ida clapped to urge her tenant as he waddled to the front door. Whoever had been knocking for the past three minutes was rather persistent, but Ida was still afraid they’d lose against Shawn’s sloth-like pace. Even if it was just the mailman; she’d give anything to see another human being.

Shawn opened the door, and Ida squealed. The Schuyler Sisters! “Marge, so lovely to see you! Dina, longer hair? That blouse is looking snazzy on you, Janice.” She swirled around them. “Tell me you came for dinner.”

“Who are you?” Shawn lazily addressed the women.

“You must be the new tenant.” Dina, standing in the middle, extended a hand. “I apologize for being late welcoming you to the neighborhood—we’d tried earlier, but nobody would answer.”

“Okay.” Shawn made a move to close the front door.

“Hold on, please,” Dina said, luckily before Ida was forced to use her energy to keep the door open. Shawn would not take this opportunity away from her. “We were also supposed to take care of the garden.”

“Huh?”

“Your backyard. The former tenant asked us to check on it every once in a while, and I made an agreement with the landlady to be allowed to do so.”

“I don’t care about the backyard.”

Ida looked at the three women with a raised eyebrow. “You see what I have to deal with?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Dina continued with a friendly voice and an unaffected smile. “Think of it as a free gardening service. We brought all we need.” She gestured to Marge, holding up a bag. “We won’t disturb you.”

Come on, Shawn. Come on.

“Okay. Do what you need to.” Shawn waved and slammed the door in their faces.

Yes!Bouncing from joy, Ida followed the three women to the backyard. “Let’s get chatting, ladies. What’s new in town?”

“Look at these poor things.” Dina shook her head at the rose bushes. “The man’s never heard of weeding, has he?”

“I’m not sure he realized he has a backyard,” Janice muttered.

Luckily, as the ladies got to work, the conversation turned to more exciting topics. The new special burger at the diner, which was so good Marge had to schmooze the owner for the recipe so she could make it for Rex. “I can’t let him eat every meal at the diner, can I? Supporting the local economy is one thing, but we still have an image to maintain.”

More gossip, rumors, weather predictions, an update on Rosalie—she’d learned how to roll over—complaining over the local youth, and then—