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“Et tu, Mother?” She frowned, so he clarified. “Lauren just told me the same thing.”

She paused as if digesting that information, then opened the top door of the double oven to produce a second pie. “This one is for you,” she said with a smile in her eyes.

This time he did reach out to tear off a piece of crust. It scalded the roof of his mouth but he didn’t care.

“Oh, for crying out loud, Tom, let it cool off.” But there was no real conviction in her voice. “To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”

“Can you keep Henry tonight?”

“You know I’d love to, but your daddy and I are going to be at the church till late. If you don’t think Henry wouldn’t mind tagging along?”

Henry was eleven, which meant yes, he’d definitely mind, but Tom didn’t want to hurt his momma’s feelings. “Don’t worry about it. I can make another arrangement.”

“What’s Lauren up to?”

“She and her mom are taking Dan to Pensacola for a doctor’s appointment.”

“Tell Lauren I’m keeping him in my prayers.”

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that.”

Tom reached out to swipe another edge of pie crust when she said, “This doesn’t have anything to do with that ghost, does it?”

“What ghost?” This time he managed to get some of the apple filling along with the crust. Score.

“You know what ghost. The whole town is talking about it! I was at the Piggly Wiggly this morning when I heard it from Doc Morrison’s receptionist. You know, Janie Fairfax, the cute brunette? Not married. I think she heard it from Betty Jean Collins who works at the Gazette. You should ask her out sometime. Plus, you know, she’s a member of your daddy’s parish.”

He couldn’t help himself. “You don’t think Betty Jean’s too old for me?”

“Ha ha, Mister Smarty Pants. You know very well I meant Janie Fairfax. But frankly, at this point I wouldn’t care who you asked out, as long as you asked out someone. Anyone.”

Ridiculously, Tom realized he actually preferred talking about the ghost.

“Ma, you know better than anyone else there’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“I certainly do not know that.”

“Yeah, well, there’s no ghost.”

“So you haven’t seen anything strange in the building?” she asked.

“Nope.”

She turned her back to him so that he couldn’t see her face and began emptying the dishwasher. “I heard Allison Grant was back in town. But of course, you know that since you saw her last night.”

Hell. Did anyone get any actual shopping done at the Piggly Wiggly? This definitely called for more pie. He picked up a knife and tried his best to stealthily slice himself a wedge.

“What a sweet girl! And so pretty. Her grandmother was such a lovely lady. Barbara Alvarez. Catholic, but she always donated one of her delicious flans to the parish festival bake sale booth. You remember her, don’t you? Well, of course you do. I mean, you did date her granddaughter.”

She turned around and caught him with the knife in his hand. “Tom! You need to let that cool off.” She shook her head at him like he was three. “Here, if you insist on eating a slice this instant and burning the roof of your mouth, at least let me cut it for you.” She sliced him a generous piece of pie, eyeing him the whole time like he was some leery wolf she was ready to spring a trap on.

“Spit it out,” he said.

She smiled sweetly. “I was just thinking. It’s been over a year since the divorce and you haven’t dated anyone.” The smile vanished. “You haven’t dated anyone, have you?”

“I’m sure you’ll be the first to know when I do.”

“Humph. Well, anyway, it just seems like perfect timing. You and that sweet Allison together again. I always felt so terrible about the ways things ended between you two. Not that it could have been helped under the circumstances, but now that the two of you are single again—she is still single, isn’t she?”

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