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Alicia’s face tightened. “I don’t have time. Tryouts for the dance team are coming up, and I wanted to make Grampa happy by joining.”
“Your existence makes me happy,” Ray said.
“I can’t repeat that,” I told him.
“Why not?”
“Too sappy.”
Alicia perked up. “What’d he say?”
“That you make him happy no matter what you do.”
Ray’s eyebrows drew together. “That’s not entirely accurate. She wouldn’t make me happy if she stole her mother’s car and crashed it. Or took up drinking.”
I ignored him and ushered Alicia toward the door. “Make sure you do your homework,” I said, holding the door open for her.
“I always do. I always do everything I’m supposed to.” Her tone sounded vaguely bitter. “Bye, Grampa. Thanks for the chips, Ghost Lady.” She jumped over the porch step to the ground.
“Good luck with the tryouts,” I called after her.
“Thank you,” Ray said softly. “I appreciate you looking out for her for me.”
I leaned against the doorjamb, watching as she passed through the gate. She swung her arms back and forth like they were propelling the rest of her body forward. It was awkward and charming.
“It wasn’t only for you,” I said.
CHAPTER6
Iwaited at the bus stop, uncertain whether I’d read the right timetable because I was the only one here. To be fair, it was a strange time to be taking a bus into the city. I could’ve driven into Manhattan, but it seemed like a bad idea, mainly because I was woefully out of practice. I’d ridden public transportation in London, and I typically only drove a couple miles in Fairhaven—easy miles without the stress and aggression that accompanied big city driving.
Few passengers meant the bus ride to Greenwich Village was quiet and uneventful. The city sidewalks were busier, and I made an effort not to jostle anybody or brush arms. It was harder to block their nightmares from entering my mind when contact was unexpected.
I groaned when I spotted a tiny cemetery to my left. To the untrained eye, it looked like nothing more than an overgrown garden. The ghosts lingering there were a dead giveaway, though, pun fully intended.
I tried to turn around and walk a different way, but their voices called to me. I ground to halt and heaved a sigh. I’d arrived in the city ahead of schedule. I had a couple minutes to spare to help these restless spirits. It seemed cruel to leave them in their current states.
They gathered at the iron bars as I approached. Their clothing and hairstyles suggested they’d been here since the early 1800s.
“What are you in for?” I joked.
“She can see us,” a voice said excitedly.
“Yellow fever,” the young man at the front of the group replied.
“We all died of disease,” a middle-aged woman interjected. “We weren’t part of the congregation, so they buried us here instead of with the others at the main burial ground.”
The young man tilted his head, studying me. “Why do I feel so drawn to you?”
“Long story.” And not one I was interested in telling. “Here’s the good news, though. I can help you move on.”
They exchanged wary glances.
“Leave this place?” the middle-aged woman asked.
“This place. This plane. Be at peace.”
“You are a hand of God?” an old man asked in a raspy voice.
