Page 50 of Paper Ghosts

“I’m sorry. It’s the short hair,” he finally said with a laugh, as if they’d been having an entirely different conversation.

“What?”

“Nothing. Okay, why not? But as interesting as your work history is, I think knowing your name would probably be more useful.”

“It’s Bailey,” she said. “I’m here visiting my family. It would be nice to have a distraction.”

“Your family, too?” he asked.

“You have no idea.”

“I’m here, I’m here,” Bailey said as she rushed into the house, her cheeks prickling from running through the apple-crisp air. She hadn’t intended to be gone so long. But her only uncomplicated memories of Hen Town were at Mother Hen’s, and there had been a fleeting moment while they were taste-testing the Halloween flavors that she thought she’d caught a glimpse of that vital thing she’d left behind. Then she’d noticed the time and jumped up, leaving a startled Theo at the table.

“You’re just in time,” Tug said, waiting for her in the foyer with the tea tray. He had on his half apron and white gloves.

Bailey looked at him strangely. “Why are you dressed like a waiter?”

“I’m trying to be disarming.”

“Would it be okay if I’m away for a few hours again tomorrow? The grandson of Mother Hen’s owner is here taking care of her estate, and I told him I’d help give out the last Halloween tea ice cream at the Shadow Fair. If Mim wants me for tea, I’ll definitely work it around that. But I won’t go if you need me.”

“Of course it’s okay. No one expects you to sit here and twiddle your thumbs. And you always loved that place.”

“Are you sure? Home care isn’t easy.” That jab from Tasha, insinuating that she wasn’t doing enough to help her dad, still stung—as was probably Tasha’s intent. Someone who’d spent their entire childhood being called Smeller knew exactly what it was like to be accused of something that wasn’t true.

“The hardest part of caring for your grandmother is getting her to let me do anything, because she can still get around. So I’m engaging in mental warfare. It’s all strategy. Shall we?” he asked, heading down the hallway.

She followed him, then knocked on the door.

“Oh, lord,” Mim said when she saw him. “Do I even want to know?”

“It’s white-glove service.” He set the tray down and began to pour. “Only the best for you.”

“In that case, stop making those ridiculous recipes of my grandmother’s.”

“You mean the ones you never eat?”

“I had more than my share when I was younger.”

“So no jellied chicken salad tonight? Fine.”

Mim narrowed her eyes. “Why is there a bell on the tray?”

“So you can ring for me, of course.”

“You put an intercom in my room, and you make me wear this hideous thing.” She pulled out a necklace chain from her shirt, on which was hanging a small emergency alert button. “Now, a bell.”

“A good butler is always on call,” he said, handing her a cup.

“Go away. Shoo. You’re too full of yourself right now.”

Tug handed Bailey a cup and winked at her before he left. He had barely shut the door when Bailey sat down and said, “You said your grandmother let you choose your friends. In that photo of the Feathers in your yearbook, Jani Keller was with you. Is she the one who betrayed you? And is that the reason you didn’t want me to be friends with Tasha Keller, specifically?”

“You’ve been giving this some thought,” Mim said. “Yes. It wasn’t fair to either you or Tasha. But pain takes the path of least resistance, and sometimes that path is right down a family line.”

“I’m sure you’re aware Tasha lives next door now.”

“Strange days,” Mim said around her teacup.