My parents' restaurant was a short walk from our neighborhood. The town seemed to have a thriving main street, with colorful old-world replica wooden shopfronts and a community hall advertising a charity pancake breakfast that Saturday. Midway down the street, right next to a Swedish pottery store, sat the pizzeria, with a big orange banner reading "New owners: Opening again soon" tacked up over the front window.

"Here it is," Mom said. "What do you think?"

"I think it looks like a restaurant."

"Don't be a smart ass to your mother." Dad motioned me towards the front door.

"Can I be a smart ass to you?"

"You know the drill. Only on Tuesdays and today is..."

"Wednesday. Just my luck."

Dornzeria couldn't decide what European country it wanted to claim as its aesthetic. I would have thought Italy, and it did have the red and white checkered oil cloth table coverings. A faded map of the Italian peninsula graced one of the walls, but to the left of it was a photograph of the King and Queen of Denmark. An old menu revealed that in addition to pizza and spumoni ice cream, customers could partake in Swedish meatballs.

I picked up a salt dispenser in the shape of the Eiffel Tower from one of the tables and turned it over in my hand. One if its legs was chipped. "Half the stuff in this place needs to become acquainted with the local dump, beginning with that cherub statue on the counter next to the cashier station."

My dad, who was at the station booting up the computer, gave the statue a pat on its little ceramic head. "What's wrong with it? I thought it was cute."

"Creepy cute maybe... if it was the only one. But instead, it's like a gateway cherub to the hardcore cherubs." I motioned to the hall opposite us, which led to the bathrooms. One of its walls had a built-in shelf with at least fifty of them in various states of undress. "Look, you two made me come here. If you can't take my criticism, I can go. I'm only trying to help and lowering the kitsch factor a notch or two can only help."

"Customers liked this kitsch. You're the one that talked about sticking with the brand."

"It's not the same thing. Anyone with a fear of dead-eyed dolls is not going to come within twenty feet of this place."

I was about to lecture them on the value of painting walls a color that wouldn't induce seizures, when the bell attached to the front door clanged. A girl about my age held her hand to the glass door, head pressed against it so she could see in. Before mom reached the door, the girl locked eyes with me. She gave me a nod.

Apparently, my parents were expecting her. "Mazie." Mom brought her over to make introductions. "This is Kayla. She used to work here."

"I still work here, actually. You're going to rehire me."

Impressed by her pluck, I shook her hand.

"Okay," Kayla scanned the restaurant, "we have our work cut out for us. Mr. Orting was nice, but he had no sense of style."

"See?" I nudged my mom.

"Um, Kayla..." Mom wrung her hands. "Are we going to have that job interview now or..."

"Oh, we are." Kayla plopped herself down at a nearby table and brought out a pen and notebook from her messenger bag. "Have a seat Mr. and Mrs. Rivera. A few questions should be enough for me to decide if you'll make decent employers or not."

I snorted. Having to be here all day suddenly seemed worthwhile. Eyes wide, my parents slid into the chairs opposite Kayla.

"I'll level with you: I've got other prospects. The dollar store is hiring, for instance. But I know this job and I know this restaurant. So, first question. Why'd you buy this dump?"

My parents glanced at each other, then looked back at Kayla before they began to contradict each other.

"It's been our dream for a long time," my mother stated.

My father's answer, layered over my mom's, didn't exactly match up. "We just did it on a whim. Life's an adventure, right?"

"Huh..." Kayla wrote in her notebook. "That says something about you two, all right. Next question. What kind of business plan do you have? And do you know what a business plan is?"

Mom jumped on this one. "Of course. She took a binder out of the sleeve of her laptop case and handed it to Kayla. "Take a look. What do you think?"

My parents leaned in towards her as she read over their plan.

After a few moments, Kayla placed the binder on the table and closed it. "I can work with this. Last question. Where do you see yourselves in five years?"

Dad answered this time. "Running one of the most popular restaurants in town."

Kayla looked up at me. "What about you?"

"Me?" My cheeks flushed. "Anywhere but running the most popular restaurant in Dorn, hopefully."

She stood up and pushed her chair in. "You and me both. But for the remaining years I'm stuck here enduring institutionalized education, I'm going to give this place a go."

She shook my parents' hands like she was an executive giving her underlings their Christmas bonuses. "Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Rivera. You're in a much better position now that I'm on board. I'll see you tomorrow, so we can discuss the grand opening. Mazie..." She bobbed her head in my way as she walked towards the front door. "I'll see you in the hallowed halls of Dorn High. Bu-bye."

My parents stood on either side of me as we watched her get into her car and drive away.

"At least you'll know one person in town when you start school," Mom said.

I already knew someone, I thought to myself, but she had a point. Kayla was a living, breathing person who hopefully wouldn't up and disappear with no warning. And she didn't seem to hate me. It was a start.

#

We arrived home from the restaurant earlier than originally anticipated. Cut off from my phone all day due to my parents' misguided belief that I needed regular cyber breaks, all I wanted was to message Chelsea and tell her about Kayla and the cherubs. My phone was where I'd left it, on the nightstand next to my bed, and next to my nightstand, was Jack.

"Oh my God, Jack. You're back! I thought maybe you'd already been reborn as a kangaroo or were singing with a heavenly choir or something."

Jack, as he so often did, gave me a confused, doleful look. "I know I've been gone, but I can't remember anything about it." He walked over to the window and gazed out at the world beyond it. "I don't understand what's happening to me. It sucks being dead. I'd caution you against it."

"Being dead? Pretty sure it's an unavoidable situation in the end."

"You know what I mean."

I stood shoulder to spectral shoulder with him. "There has to be a reason you're here haunting me and not some other person in some other house. Maybe I'm meant to be the one who figures out who you are and why you're trapped here.

He kept his gaze on the road. "Maybe."

"Oh, and you know what? I can introduce you to my parents. They'll see that I'm not crazy and they'll know how to help you. Well, probably not that second part. That's going to be me all the way. But they can assist me." I headed towards my door. "Stay here. Whatever you do, do not go buzzing away again. I'll be right back."

I pounded down the stairs, determined to retrieve my parents before Jack could go anywhere. Dad was nowhere to be seen, but Mom lay on the couch reading the latest issue of Food Network Magazine. "Mom, I need your help right away. Spider!"

Mom disapproved of killing anything she deemed as "potentially sentient" but she'd happily remove them for me whenever I freaked out about one.

She jumped to her feet. "I'll get a glass."

She trailed behind me as we headed upstairs, cup in one hand, broom in the other.

I opened my door, peaking in to find, with great relief, that Jack was still there. He turned from the window to my mom, eyes glued to her.

Mom studied the room. "Where is it? Is it under the bed?"

"What? Um... maybe?"

She got down on her hands and knees. "I hope you're planning on unpacking all the boxes you have under here, Mazie. If you don't need this crap, get rid of it. Simplify your life. Now, where is that spider?"

Say something, I mouthed to Jack.

Jack cleared his throat. "Hi, hello? I think I might be the spider you're looking for."

I shook my head. This was bad. Very, very bad. "Mom, it was by the bed earlier, but then it was moving in the direction of the front of the house. Check over there."

"With all this clutter, it's got lots of places to hide. If I can't find it, you're just going to have to deal, Mazie. Most spiders are harmless. It's not likely it'll turn out to be the kind that can kill you with one bite."

If there really had been a spider, that speech would not have been helpful. Even less helpful was the fact that, in her search for the illusive and benign bedroom spider, she passed right through Jack without flinching. Jack, however, screamed in horror.

I covered my ears. Man, that guy could give a yodeler a run for her money.

Mom turned back to me. "What's wrong with your ears? Look, I'm not going to waste any more time searching for a spider. Here." She handed me the glass and broom. "How are you going to remove spiders from your life after I'm dead unless you learn how to do it yourself now? While you're at it, maybe do a little sweeping in here."

She left the room, shutting the door behind her.

No longer yodeling, Jack stood in the center of the room, eyes cast downward. "She can't see me."

"Becca is just one person." I tried to sound reassuring, but my voice waivered. "She never even believed in the tooth fairy much less in ghosts. Maybe her mind can't accept you. My dad is way cheesier and superstitious, so we'll try him next. Don't lose hope, okay?"

"I'm going to try leaving intentionally now, Mazie."

"Do you have to? I've barely had a chance to talk to you today."

"I need some time to myself. I'll be right upstairs in the attic though. I mean, if I can control things. I need to try."

I could hardly blame him. Try not being a selfish prick, Mazie. "Take all the time you need."

He flashed me his sweet grin. "Okay, here goes."

He stood there for a moment, then another. "Is anything happening?"

"Not that I can tell. Does it feel like anything's happening?"

Clenching his fists, he closed his eyes. "Maybe?"

I thought about my panic attacks. "Just breathe. Don't cling to the idea of leaving. Let go of it. Stop trying."

"Stop trying... okay." He took a series of deep breaths. I found myself inhaling and exhaling in unison with him.

"I don't think it's working, Maz..."

Midway through my name, he was gone. I sat on the edge of my bed and grabbed my phone, wondering if I should tell Chelsea about Jack. I ended up giving her a rundown of my day, leaving him out of it completely. Life was already too complicated without one of my only friends thinking I'd completely lost it.

Just as I was describing the sights and sounds of downtown Dorn to her, a tappity tap carried down through the ceiling. I stood on my bed and with the broom handle, tapped back, matching his rhythm. We kept it up for a few minutes and then, voice carrying faintly through the ceiling, he said, "we'll do this again tomorrow, Mazie."

"It'sa date." I flopped back down on the bed, smiling to myself. No one had evermentioned how fun a haunting could be.