All I had to do was look at Izzy this time for her to quiet down.

“Ah!” Mr. Henderson said, pointing a finger in the air. “That just shows what you don’t know. Ghosts often revert back to their younger selves when they pass on.”

I struggled to stay quiet this time. That wasn’t true. While ghosts did take on a certain ethereal beauty, they looked mainly as they did when they died.

“Now, where was I? Oh yes, I knew it was a ghost because even though she only visited me for a moment,” he said, adjusting his thick glasses on his nose, “it was long enough to see her float across my yard in a glowing white gown.”

“I see.” It might have seemed like I was replying to Mr. Henderson, but the words were just as much, if not more so, for myself, because as he was relaying his tale, I spotted something in the lawn of one of our other neighbors. A clothesline with shirts, pants, and towels swaying in the light breeze. Then I noticed something else. If I wasn’t mistaken, it was a sheet crumpled up under the hedge that covered the fence separating our two houses. A sheet that could have easily floated from the clothesline across Mr. Henderson’s backyard to ours. If I had to guess, that, with a little imagination, was Mr. Henderson’s ghost. “It must have been quite the thing to witness.”

“It was. It was.”

“How remarkable,” Izzy said, taking a step back. “Well, thank you for sharing, but we should probably be on our way.”

“I wouldn’t want to keep you, but you ladies be careful, and don’t hesitate to pop on over should anything go bump in the night. As I always say, it sometimes takes a keen eye to see what’s going on right underneath your nose.” He tapped the side of his nose to really drive the point home.

“Yes, thank you,” Izzy said. “We’ll keep that in mind.”

“No need for thanks,” he called after us. “But you know I’d never turn away a slice of the B&B’s pie.”

“Of course! Of course,” Izzy said. A moment later she started muttering under her breath. “Ah! That just shows what you don’t know,” she said, mimicking his voice. She even put a finger in the air the way he had. “And the B&B’s pie? Does he think it drops out of thin air? He wants a pie? I’ll make him pie. I’ll make him a pie that screams when he cuts into it. Or is filled with centipedes that come spilling out.” Izzy frowned. “Brynn Warren, are you laughing at me?”

“I’m just laughing because you would never do either of those things.”

She made a noise that sounded a little like a harrumph. “Maybe you’re right, but it’s nice to think about.”

I laughed some more.

“Do you think it’s wrong for me to think about it?”

“Not at all,” I said, linking my arm more tightly with hers. “Not at all.”