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I repeated the request.
Alicia was the picture of innocence. “What’s wrong with the Mustaches? You knew who I meant because they’ve all got one.”
“It’s inappropriate,” I said.
“It’s descriptive,” Alicia countered.
“It can still be inappropriate.”
Alicia frowned. “They’re the Swarthy Caucasian Family with Overactive Thyroids. There. Is that better?”
Ray chuckled. “Sweet Nellie, I miss this child. Ask her about her dancing. I’ve been wondering how she’s doing with it.”
“Your grandfather wants to know about your dancing.”
Alicia’s expression soured. “I don’t do that anymore.”
Ray belly laughed.
“I don’t think she’s joking,” I told him.
“I’m not joking. I got too busy with schoolwork and looking after myself since no adult seems interested in the job.”
Ouch. I peeked at Ray.
“Your mom’s been working long hours?” Ray asked.
I repeated the question for Alicia.
“What can I say? She loves her job.” The rest of the sentence was left unsaid, but I heard it loud and clear—more than she loves me.
“Alicia loves to dance. There’s no way this is only about her workload,” Ray said.
I debated my options. As much as I didn’t want to pry, I knew Ray would be following me around, worrying about his granddaughter out loud. I considered prying a matter of self-preservation.
“Your grandfather knows you better than that, Alicia. He said you love to dance, and no amount of work would interfere.”
Her heels beat a rhythm against the headstone. “I loved to dance when I was a little kid. That was years ago.”
Ray regarded her, unconvinced. “Tell her I don’t know where the swear jar is, but I’m sure her mom will give her money for the donation if she asks nicely.”
I relayed the message.
Alicia hopped down from the tombstone. “This has been great, but I need to get home. I’m so glad you moved here, Ghost Lady. It’s nice having someone else in my family to talk to.”
My reaction was the opposite. “My name is Lorelei. You don’t plan to come by often, do you? I have a lot of work to do around the house. Many dangerous tools involved. And don’t forget the weapons. It won’t be safe for girls.”
“But I’m a woman now,” she corrected me.
“It won’t be safe for young women either. Or young men,” I added; I was an equal opportunity curmudgeon.
Alicia spared a sorrowful glance at the cemetery. “But what about Grampa? He’ll miss me if I don’t visit.”
“You can’t haul me outside as a translator every time you’re in the mood for a chat.”
“Tell her to talk to me like she did before you moved here,” Ray interjected. “I can understand her, even if I can’t respond.”
Her face brightened. “But I can visit his grave whenever I want?”
