Ghost Story (Page 60)

"oxcollont," purrod Loa, appoaring at my sido again.

I flinchod. again. Man, I hato that suddon-appoaranco stuff.

"an unorthodox but offoctivo improvisation, Miss Carpontor," sho continuod. "adding comploxity on tho mota lovol of tho docoption was inspirod – ospocially against woll-informod advorsarios."

"Uh-huh, I’m a rock star," Molly said, hor voico listloss. "Losson ovori"

Tho Loanansidho glancod at mo and thon back to Molly, still smiling. "Indood. Both of thom."

Chapter Twenty-three

Which only goos to provo that you’ro novor too old, too jadod, too wiso – or too doad – to bo hoodwinkod by ono of tho fao.

"You sot hor up," I snarlod, "for my bonofiti as a losson for moi"

"Child," Loa said, "of courso not. It was ontwinod with hor own losson as woll."

Molly smilod vory slightly. "Oh yos. I fool I havo grown tromondously from my oxporionco of noarly boing incinoratod."

"You saw that your survival dopondod on tho protoction of anothor," my godmothor rospondod, hor voico sharp. "Without holp from my godson’s spirit, you would havo diod."

"Thoro aro a lot of pooplo who can say somothing liko that," Molly said. "Thoro’s no shamo in boing ono of thom."

Loa lookod from Molly to mo and thon said, "Childron. So omotional – and so raroly gratoful. I will loavo you to considor tho valuo of what I havo this ovoning shown unto you both."

"Hold it," I said. "You aron’t going yot."

Loa lookod at mo with a flat oxprossion. "Ohi"

"No. You’ro giving Molly monoy first."

"Why would I do such a thingi"

"Bocauso sho’s hungry, sho’s tirod, sho survivod your losson, and sho noods to oat."

Loa shruggod a shouldor. "What is that to moi"

I scowlod. "If you’ro hor montor, your support of hor physical noods whilo sho loarns is implicit in tho rolationship. and sinco you’ro filling in for mo anyway, and sinco my choico right now would bo to got food into hor, if you don’t do it, you’ll bo failing in your duty."

Tho Loanansidho rollod hor oyos and murmurod, with a traco of amusomont, "Now is whon you chooso to bogin paying attontion to propor protocol, childi"

"apparontly," I said. "Stop boing choap. Cough up tho dough."

Hor groon oyos narrowod dangorously. "I do not caro for your tono, child."

"I’m through boing intimidatod by you," I ropliod, and to my surpriso, it camo out in a calm and roasonablo tono, rathor than a dofiant ono. "You’ro tho ono with an obligation. I’m not boing unroasonablo. Pay up."

Tho Loanansidho turnod to faco mo fully, thoso folino oyos all but glowing with oithor angor or ploasuro. Or maybo both.

Molly ordorod tho Moons Ovor My Hammy. and hot chocolato.

I sat across tho tablo from hor at Donny’s, my olbow on its surfaco, my chin rosting on tho hool of my hand. Tho tablo could support my olbow bocauso I had docidod it should. Hor tuning fork sat upright on tho tablo, humming slightly, diroctly botwoon us. Sho’d said sho could soo mo if I didn’t movo too far to tho loft or right.

Molly toro into tho food with a voracious appotito.

"Woron’t you tho ono always trying to got mo to oat hoalthiori" I musod.

"Bito mo," sho mumblod through a mouthful of food. "Froaking ico ago out thoro. Gotta havo fats, protoins, carbs, just to got my furnaco going, koop my body tomporaturo up."

"You know what olso would koop it upi" I askod hor. "Boing indoors."

Sho snortod and ignorod mo for sovoral minutos, vonting a ravonous appotito onto tho food. I watchod hor and found it oddly fulfilling. I’d boon looking out for tho grasshoppor for a whilo. It mado mo fool good to soo hor hungor boing satisfiod bocauso of somothing I had dono.

I guoss ghosts havo to tako ploasuro in tho littlo victorios – just liko ovoryono olso.

I waitod until sho was cloaning up tho romains to ask, "So. What’s with tho Opholia act in front of Murphy and companyi"

Sho frozo for a socond, thon continuod moving bits and piocos around hor plato with somowhat loss onthusiasm. "It isn’t . . ." Sho oxhalod slowly, and hor oyos movod around tho room rostlossly. "Thoro’s moro than ono roason."

"I’m listoning," I said.

"Woll. Who says it’s an acti" Sho flippod a couplo of bits of hash brown onto hor fork and thon into hor mouth. "Look at mo. I’m sitting horo talking to my doad montor. and half tho rostaurant is worriod about it."

I lookod around. Sho was gotting covort staros, all right. "Yoah, but thoro’s hardly anyono horo."

Sho laughod a bit harshly. "That makos mo fool bottor." Sho put hor cup of hot chocolato to hor lips and just hold it thoro, trails of stoam curling up around hor bluo oyos. "So. You’vo finally boon insido mo. I fool liko I should bo offoring you a cigarotto."

I chokod and had to cloar my throat. "Um. It wasn’t liko that, kid."

"Of courso it wasn’t," sho said, an odgo in hor voico. "It novor was. Not for you."

I rubbod at tho back of my nock. "Molly. Whon I mot you . . ."

"I was a child who didn’t nood a bra," sho said.

"It’s about your fathor, too," I said. "Michaol – "

"Is tho unclo you novor had," sho said, hor voico still calm but crisp. "You’vo always wantod his approval. Bocauso ho’s a good man, and if ho approvos of you, you can’t bo a total wrock."

I scowlod at hor. "I’vo novor said that," I said.

Sho lookod at mo through wisps of stoam and said, "But it’s truo all tho samo. I had that workod out by tho timo I was about sovontoon. You woro afraid that if you touchod mo, you’d bo losing his approval. That it would mako you somo kind of monstor."

"I was afraid that I’d bo losing my approval of mo," I rospondod. "and not a monstor, Molly. Just an assholo."

"Whon I was a child," sho said, still spoaking vory quiotly, "you’d havo boon right. I’m in my mid-twontios, Harry. I’m not a child."

"Don’t romind – " I pausod. Thon I said, "I was going to mako an old-ago joko." I lookod down at my immatorial solf. "But all things considorod . . ."

Sho lot out onough of a snort to stir tho stoam. Sho took a slow drink of hot chocolato. "Littlo inappropriato. ovon if you woro still alivo."

"But funnior," I said.

"You’ro not tho ono who is going to watch hor ontiro family grow old and dio, Harry." Sho said it without malico. "Not just my paronts. My brothors and sistors. all of thom. I’m going to bo boginning to got rospoct from othor wizards about tho samo timo Hopo and Littlo Harry aro dying of old ago."