The Other Side - J. D. Robb [147]
She opened her mouth to speak, while her brain raced for a good excuse to decline, only to be saved by Jimmy’s stomping steps on the stairs. And again, as planned, the sisters rose up through the ceiling so the boy wouldn’t see them . . . Imogene didn’t even bother to stand.
Five
Their gazes met in anticipation of the future they were momentarily setting aside as they listened to the boy clatter down the hall until he stood in the doorway . . . disgruntled.
“Okay, let’s go.”
His father hesitated. “Don’t you want to come over and thank M.J. for letting you have a look around?”
Nothing but his eyes moved in her direction “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She and Ryan exchanged a look and a shrug and started to stand. They’d both expected more of a reaction from him—but where Ryan was smart enough to let sleeping dogs lie, M.J.’s curiosity got to her. “So? Did you see the ghosts?”
“Nope.” He turned on his heel and started walking toward the front door. They followed.
“Are you less worried about them now?”
A pause. “Sure.” Even she could tell he was fibbing. He was still a believer, and he was still worried. He opened the door and marched out onto the wide front porch.
“Hey. Wait a second.” Ryan sent her an apologetic grimace. “Are you sure there’s nothing else you want to say to M.J. before we go?”
Having already thanked her, she and Jimmy formed identical furrows between their brows as they looked at him, then at each other. The boy grew thoughtful.
“School is starting soon. I’m going to be in first grade, and I have a new backpack already. Spider-Man.” He jutted out his right arm, hand hyperextended to expose his wrist, which was, if M.J. recalled correctly, from whence Spidey’s webbing came. “My teeth are gonna to fall out, but then my big teeth will grow in, and then Dad’s gonna to teach me to whistle.” He took a breath; his gaze darted away and came back. “That’s enough for now.”
Reeling a little from the to-and-fro and abrupt halt of his news report, M.J. shook her head as a genuine grin of pleasure creased her face and danced in her eyes.
“Wow. Thank you, Jimmy. I’m glad to know all those things about you.”
He gave her a firm nod, as if he’d known she would be, then turned and hopped two footed down the steps.
Looking up at Ryan, she held her hands out at her sides, speechless, but still more amused than she’d been in a long, long time.
“This coming week we’ll be buying crayons and Power Rangers underwear. Exciting times at our house.” Chuckling, he glanced over her shoulder, then back over his at all the shattered windows along the front of the house. “What’s with the windows? Vandals?”
“Ah, no, actually.” She pushed her hair from the side of her face and glanced again at the glass. It looked dangerous. Precarious. Shattered glass just waiting to burst into smithereens. Had she been thinking clearly, she never would have let the boy or his father onto the porch or into the house, anywhere near it, despite the fact that she knew it wouldn’t come down until the sisters allowed it. “Mr. Brown backed his machine into the house Friday. It must have happened then.”
“Did he say it was safe? Should you be wandering around in there alone?” He held out his hand. “Give me your phone.”
Even as she reached into her pocket, there were so many things in those four words that confused her—how he knew she was intractable about keeping it on her person instead of in her purse, what he planned to do with it, her willingness to obey. . . .
With the practiced fingers of a computer nerd, he installed his home and cell phone numbers. “There.” He beamed at her. “Now you can call me if you get into trouble over here . . . or anytime you want to talk or just say hello.”
She nodded, replacing her phone, head down, her cheeks rounding from an unexpectedly charmed smile. It was simply a neighborly thing to