Page 78 of A Love Like Candle Light

Before I even get up, there's a loud knock on my door.

Huh? My eyes dart to the clock again. It’s dinner time. Who dares disturb me?

Abby is right by my side as I follow the knocking, opening my door to find… “Kieran?”

"Hey, neighbor." He shoots me a cheeky grin. Dick weasels right past his feet and into my house, as if he lives there, to say hi to Abby. “What’s up? Are you free?”

I step aside and open the door further to let him in, hiding an exhausted yawn behind my hand. "I’m free. Come on in." On the way in, he pushes Dick’s yellow rain coat into my hands.

“Don’t worry. I cleaned his muddy-ass paws outside and he’s dry.” His black hair is wet and plastered to his forehead, the leather jacket he shrugs out of dripping.

“Thank you.” I crinkle my nose. Right. Meaning a ‘short walk’ with Abby later is most definitely ending in a bath. Which means I get to clean my bathroom. Yay. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" I ask, hiding a yawn behind my hand and trudging to my kitchen.

"I want to chat with your ghost."

I stop. Slowly, I turn around to stare at him with arched eyebrows. Did I hear him right? Grinning, he holds up a box.

"You want to..." I blink at him slowly, trying to make sense of the words. "You want to ‘chat’ with my ghost?"

"Yeah.” He nods eagerly and takes a seat at my kitchen counter. Dick and Abby are weaseling around the living room, playing a game only they know the rules of. Apparently, it involves running a circle around my coffee table, then pressing their noses to the window and try to catch a raindrop. “Kylie, I think we both think it’s Elizabeth. Right?”

I nod slowly. I’m not sure when he came to the conclusion, but I’m about ninety percent sure by now.

“I want confirmation, so we can tell everyone in town ‘we told you so.’ And also I always wanted to talk to a ghost. I bought a Ouija board off a shady-looking website. So it might or might not be cursed, I guess."

I eye the box suspiciously. A pit forms in my stomach and the hair in my neck stands up. Kieran keeps talking, oblivious to the heebie-jeebies I’m getting.

"At first, I wanted to do it at Nic's, but Chaos is a cat. I don't think she can communicate with a Ouija board."

There's a logical side to my brain that wants to ask him if he seriously thinks anything can communicate with a Ouija board. However, I've been living with, presumably, a ghost for a while now. All the slamming cupboards and cold gusts are too well-timed and seem too intentional for me to take them as coincidence.

"I don't know, Kieran," I mumble and cross my arms in front of my chest, leaning my back against the kitchen counter.

"Relax, we don't have to if you don't want to." He holds up a bottle. No idea where he hid it, but it’s most welcome. "Just in case, I also brought some wine so we can, you know, calm our nerves and all that."

All of a sudden, my stomach rumbles so loudly Kieran has to bite the inside of his cheek to refrain from laughing.

"How about dinner first?” Absentmindedly, I rub my stomach. “I’m starving and need to eat something before I make a decision. Food does much more to calm my nerves than a glass of wine could."

"Good idea.” He sets the bottle on the counter and rubs his hands together. “I haven't eaten yet either." Without waiting for an invitation, he waltzes right past me to my fridge and pulls the door open with gusto.

"So, what's on the menu? I see orange juice, vegetables, vegetables..." He grimaces. "Your fridge is entirely too healthy for my taste."

"Says the gym freak." I poke his biceps. Good thing he didn’t see my microwave meal, hidden behind a bunch of cheese. "What if I tell you I have enough leftover casserole for two people in the freezer?"

“What kind of casserole?” He narrows his eyes at me. “Zucchini? No thank you.”

“One I made when I was on my period. Trust me, it’s not healthy.”

"That, my friend-" He points at me, "is the winner, then. Throw on your oven, I’ll pop the bottle open."

I shake my head at him as he searches through my drawers to find a corkscrew.

“Compliments to the chef, this casserole is delicious,” he says with a full mouth, a string of cheese hanging from his lips and taps his fork against the cheese crust of the casserole piece on his plate.

"Thank you, thank you. The ingredients are cheese, bacon, pasta and, you guessed it, more cheese.” What can I say? Cheese is my main craving when I have my period.

Dick and Abby are hanging out by the living room window, making sure all is in order between my home and the lake. Occasionally, a soft ‘woof’ alerts us to a squirrel daring to cross their view.