“I think it’s sweet that you’re putting his feelings ahead of your own,” Max said. “That being said, I don’t think Jack wants to handle this alone. I think he wants you with him. No matter what happens here, though, it’s going to be a blow for Jack. I do think you guys will manage to work it out on your own. You always do.”
“I feel like something is off,” Ivy admitted.
“What was your first clue? I’m thinking the dead cop, bullet in your shoulder, or being shot off the road should’ve been it.”
“I … if I tell you something, do you promise not to blab it to anyone else? I’m serious.”
Max’s handsome face sobered. “Okay.”
“Aunt Felicity made me do a séance the other day,” Ivy said, finally giving voice to something that had been bothering her for days.
“Oh, man, are you kidding me?” Max chuckled. “She tried to do that with me once. Ugh. I remember when you had that sleepover and she tried to do one and you kicked everyone out for making fun of her. Who did she want to talk to? Please tell me it was John Lennon.”
“She wanted to contact Marcus Simmons’ ghost.”
Max stilled. “Seriously? That’s … weird and interesting at the same time. Did she get him?”
Ivy furrowed her brow. “Do you believe in stuff like that?”
Max shrugged, noncommittal. “I … kind of do,” he conceded. “Don’t you?”
“I … .” Did she? She couldn’t deny she felt something at Felicity’s apartment. “If you ever tell anyone I admitted this, I’ll sneak into your house and shave your eyebrows. You’ve been warned.”
Max held up his hands, although he couldn’t hide his smile. “Lay it on me.”
“She was calling to Marcus and yet I felt something,” Ivy said, licking her lips. “I felt a presence.”
“Are you sure that it wasn’t just Aunt Felicity’s influence?” Max probed. “She might have convinced you that you were going to feel something so you thought you felt something.”
“She didn’t feel it, though.”
“What exactly did you feel?”
“It wasn’t Marcus. I’m sure of that,” Ivy said. “It felt female.”
“Female? Like … could you feel boobs?”
Ivy scowled. Leave it to Max to take things to the lowest possible level. “No! You’re a pervert!”
“Says the woman having so much sex she forgot to call her brother after she was in an accident,” Max muttered.
“The presence just felt female,” Ivy said. “I didn’t hear voices … or see faces … or give it much of a chance because I freaked out and ran away. I just … don’t you think that’s weird?”
“I think that you’re different than I am,” Max replied, choosing his words carefully. “You’ve always felt things in a way that I can’t understand. Why do you think you insisted on creating your fairy ring?”
“I … it’s pretty.”
“And whenever you’re upset that’s where you go to think,” Max said. “I think that turning your nose up at the possibility of ghosts is pretty funny considering you’ve been walking in Jack’s dreams for weeks.”
Ivy rolled her neck. “We’re still doing that. I thought maybe after … you know … it would stop. If anything it has ramped up. I took him to the ocean for a midnight swim the other night. Last night he took me on a boat ride.”
“See, that’s amazing to me,” Max said. “You guys get to experience everything together.”
“You don’t think it’s weird?”
“Of course it’s weird,” Max said. “That doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with it. I’ve always thought you had a little bit of magic in you, Ivy. When everyone else was calling you ‘weird’ and ‘dorky’ I knew something else was going on. This just proves that.”
“You’re a good brother.” Ivy smiled. “You’re a pervert and a pain, but you’re still a good brother.”
“I know,” Max said. “On that note, though, let me go and hand this off to one of my workers and then I’ll take you to lunch. I’m dying to hear about your trip to Detroit.”
“I tried Middle Eastern food and I got to take a bath in a Jacuzzi tub.”
“Oh, well, that sounds fun,” Max said. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Being alone with her thoughts made Ivy restless. She got to her feet and moved around, studying Max’s new summer offerings. The lumberyard offered a bevy of items. Most people who visited were looking for material to finish their do-it-yourself projects. Others liked the homemade picnic tables and swings. In fact, Ivy was considering buying one of the swings herself. She had visions of sitting on the swing with Jack, a blanket, and a glass of wine floating through her head.
Ivy was so lost in thought that she initially ignored the wisp of energy floating in the corner of her eye. After a moment, she waved her hand, thinking it was smoke. She turned, about to unload on someone for the stupidity associated with smoking in a lumberyard when she realized she was looking at something else.
Ivy cocked her head and blinked rapidly, the ethereal figure – more mist than corporeal – mimicked her actions.
“Holy crap,” Ivy muttered, staring closer. The figure was so transparent she was having trouble making out facial features. “I … are you really there or am I losing my mind?”
The figure didn’t respond. It was definitely female. She could see the telltale edge of a skirt hem just above the figure’s knee. “Can you talk?”
“Can you?” Max asked, appearing at Ivy’s back.
Ivy jolted, afraid, and when she turned back around the figure was gone. “I … did you see that?”
“See what?”
“I swear there was something there,” Ivy said. “It looked like … a ghost.”
Max laughed. He couldn’t help himself. “Have you considered that you think you saw a ghost because we were just talking about ghosts?”
“You said you believed,” Ivy
