Nothing to Ghost About by Morgana Best

D-word himself!”
    “ The D-word?” I asked. This
was a new one on me.
    “ I don’t glorify the D-word
by saying his name out loud,” John said in the most sanctimonious
tone imaginable. “And crystals are his tools.”
    “ But crystals come from the
ground,” I said. “Didn’t God make them? Isn’t that what you said,
Mom, that God made the earth and everything in it?’
    Mom was flustered for a moment. “You
always twist my words, Laurel, you little brat. Of course God
didn’t make crystals.”
    John and Ian nodded.
    That floored me. I had no idea how to
respond, so I just shoveled food into my mouth.
    “ You don’t share your
mother’s views?” Basil asked me.
    I signaled that I had food in my
mouth, and then tried to swallow it quickly. That only succeeded in
making me choke. John Jones leaped to his feet and placed both his
hands on my back.
    “ Please don’t touch me!” I
said, after I managed to swallow the food.
    “ I was praying for you,” he
said in an offended tone.
    “ You didn’t need to touch
me for that,” I protested.
    “ Oh yes, he did,” Mom said,
as quick as a flash. “When you pray for healing, you have to place
your hands on the affected part.”
    Ian and John murmured their
agreement.
    “ But what if someone has
hemorrhoids?” I said without thinking. I mean, it sounded logical
to me, and I wasn’t prepared for the reaction.
    “ Laurel!” Mom said loudly.
“I will not have such words used at my table!”
    Ian and John Jones gasped in unison
and covered their mouths with their hands. I ignored them, and
turned to Basil. “No,” I said firmly. “I do not share my mother’s
views. I do not share Ian’s views, or John’s views for that
matter.” I glared at the three of them in turn. “And, Mom, is this
why you invited Basil for dinner, to try to fire him?” I turned
back to Basil. “I’m sorry about this.”
    Basil lifted his hands, a gesture
either of helplessness or sympathy—I had no idea which.
    Mom scowled at me. “Why do you always
twist my words?” She used her whining voice, the one she used to
gain sympathy. “You can see what she’s doing, can’t you,
Ian?”
    Ian shot me a glare. “I certainly
can.” He turned back to my mother. “I don’t know how you’ve
survived all these years with a child like that.”
    I took a deep breath and held my head
in my hands. I couldn’t have been more embarrassed. Whatever would
Basil think of me now?
    Mom made a big show of dabbing at fake
tears with a tissue. “Laurel, I simply told Basil that I wasn’t
happy with him. I thought inviting him to dinner would be a nice
way to fire him.”
    “ Mom, I’ve said it before
and I’ll say it again,” I said loudly. “Who I employ is my
decision, not yours, and definitely not Ian’s. I don’t care to hear
John’s views at any time, and that’s the end of the conversation.”
I slammed my open hand down on the table as hard as I could. It
hurt like hell. I placed it back under the table, and gritted my
teeth. Showing my pain would spoil the moment.
    Mom, Ian, and John stared at me with
their mouths agape.
    I looked straight into my mother’s
face and said, “And there had better be dessert!”
     
     

Chapter 17

    It was a humid day. Humidity was
unusual for the mountainous region of New England, Australia. The
heat here was normally dry, but thunderstorms were invariably
preceded by hours of humidity.
    The storm was building. The thick
black clouds looked angry, and still the sun beat down
relentlessly. The air all but crackled with electricity.
    I had trouble finding somewhere to
park and had to drive around the block three times. Finally, I
managed to wedge my car into a small space. I just hate it when
drivers take up two parking spaces.
    I texted Tara: ‘Almost there.’ I was
looking forward to telling Tara all about the insidious dinner of
the previous night. In fact, telling Tara my problems was like
therapy, only free.
    I arrived at the