Page 44 of Ghostly

“Can you see? Hear?” Gabriel adjusted his earbud and looked around the town square, trying to keep his head movements smooth and level. The stalls surrounding the square and the Christmas tree in the middle—all heavily decorated—made the place look even smaller than usual. The crowd didn’t help, either.

“Yes, I can see!” Ida’s voice sounded in his ear. “And I think I’m catching some music. Is thatLast Christmas?”

“I don’t know why I expected anything different here.”

“Snob.”

“Be nice. I can still turn this off.”

She snorted.

With one wireless earbud and a gizmo that looked like a high-tech monocle (ordered online especially for the occasion) Gabriel was bound to raise a few eyebrows at the Christmas fair. But it was the easiest solution. Idahaunted the laptop at home; Gabriel made a video call from his phone and redirected the audio to the earbud and the video to the lens that covered his eye, allowing her to see and hear what he did.

“Uy, motion sickness. Motion sickness!”

Gabriel steadied his head. “Better?”

“Yup. Oh, sweets! Go to that stall!”

“You know you can’t eat them.”

“You won’t let a girl have any fun, will you? I just want to look at them.”

Gabriel headed for a stall selling Christmas candy and carefully and slowly swept his gaze across the selection. Candy canes in all colors and sizes, peppermints, Christmas tree-shaped chocolates—were those cookies covered in actual glitter?

“What can I get you?” the vendor asked.

“Noth—”

“Candy cane. The big one,” Ida said in his ear.

Gabriel almost shook his head before he remembered it’d made her queasy.

“The candy cane over there, please.”

With his purchase concluded, he held up the candy for Ida to admire their newest acquisition.

“It feels delicious,” she said.

“Remember we have an actual goal here.”

Forgive.Gabriel scoured his surroundings for opportunities and noticed a man, carrying a steaming plastic cup, filled to the brim. With the man’s back to him, Gabriel covertly moved onto his path and stood his ground.

“What are we doing?”

“Wait for it,” he whispered. Six, five, four, three, two, one—the man collided with Gabriel while doing a half-turn. Mulled wine went flying to the sky, and onto Gabriel’s scarf.

“Jesus!” The man turned. “Wait, not Jesus. Gabriel!”

“Jason?”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I spilled on you!” Jason looked around as if searching for a means to help, then awkwardly dabbed Gabriel’s scarf with his sleeve. “And that wasn’t even the best mulled wine. Mark and I are working our way up.”

“It’s all right, it’s just a scarf.” Gabriel removed it and shuddered as a wave of cold air hit his neck. “Not the best one, either.”

“Are you sure?”

“I forgive you.”