CHAPTER ONE

“Wait. Bethany, you’re actually serious?”

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I saw the exact moment my best friend’s expression shifted from amused laughter to a look of absolute shock. You know, a wide-eyed, open-mouth, stunned-silent type of look. Perhaps agog is a better term, or stupefied. Regardless of what you want to call it, Kelly sat across my small kitchen table from me, a half-empty bottle of red wine frozen mid-pour in her grip. I gently pried the bottle from her grasp and topped off my glass while she processed the bombshell I’d just dropped.

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“So, let me make sure I heard you correctly,” Kelly finally said with exaggerated slowness. “Your grandma Sternberg visited you last night?”

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I nodded several times.

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“Your dead Grandma Sternberg,” she continued.

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This was said more as a point of clarification than question, but I nodded again. “She had her hair up in curlers and wore her favorite housecoat. All things considered, she looked great.”

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Kelly pursed her lips and averted her gaze to the ceiling.

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She appeared to consider the added information. That, or to keep herself from screaming from exasperation. Hard to tell.

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After a few beats, she blew out a breath and returned her attention to me. “And during this visit, dead Grandma Sternberg said you need to remember to floss your teeth and to do a better job cleaning out the fridge?”

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I didn’t miss the tone of incredulity in her voice. “Yes,” I replied after I sipped my wine. “She also threatened to visit again the next time I have a man sleep over if I don’t do as she asked. So I immediately got out of bed, brushed and flossed my teeth, and then got to work on the fridge. I might not have a man in my life right now, but I probably will, someday.” I tipped my wineglass toward her. “I am not taking any chances.”

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Kelly took her own sip of wine, lightly dabbed at her mouth with the tips of her fingers, and asked with a straight face, “You know how crazy this sounds, don’t you?”

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“Really? Which part?”

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My best friend since kindergarten let out a frustrated groan.

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“The whole damned thing, Bethany. You just said your dead grandma visited you as a ghost and is worried about your hygiene and cleaning habits. If you tell this story to anyone else, you’ll end up in the county mental ward. Hell, I’m thinking you might want to visit a shrink before you start seeing any more of your dead relatives wandering around this old farmhouse.”

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I had a feeling nearly all the people I shared this story with would be skeptical, too, but I doubted it would change their opinion of me. Most residents in my teeny, tiny town of Monpetite, Missouri, population four hundred ninety-eight, already thought I was a bit of an odd duck. I had absolutely no problem being viewed as an odd duck, though. Odd ducks are, by far, more interesting than regular ducks, in my humble opinion.

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“Unfortunately, every word of this story is absolutely true. One hundred percent.” And it was. “Last night, before I turned off my bedside lamp, a cold draft blew through my bedroom. When I looked to see where the breeze had come from, I discovered Grandma Sternberg materializing in the doorway. She was transparent, levitating, and had no legs or feet, but it was clearly her.”

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“No legs or feet?” Kelly cocked an eyebrow. “How much wine did you drink before this visit? Or was it bourbon?”

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“I can’t explain the legs or feet thing. That’s just what I saw. Believe me when I tell you, I hadn’t had a drop of anything. And before you ask, no, I had not been sleeping, either. This wasn’t a dream. The experience was very real.”

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