Susan shrugged and smiled. "They said that if it bothers you, you have to find a way to get Mrs. Wix involved."

"How can I do that? What am I supposed to do? Invite her for a sleepover?"

Thursday, Maisie returned. She was subdued, but looked okay. Her smile was weak and she hardly spoke at all.

At the beginning of lunch she paid a long visit to the bathroom.

"I hate to say it," Susan said, "But I like Maisie better this way. I didn't realize how... abrasive she can be until she quit talking."

I smiled ruefully. "I know what you mean. I've tried to talk to her about it, but it's all that stuff about her parents' divorce..."

Susan sighed. "I know, I know." Then, anxious to change the subject, she said, "I talked to my grandparents about your... you know, visitor."

I raised my eyebrows. "And?"

"They said was that it wasn't about you. They said it's Mrs. Wix's problem."

"Mrs. Wix's problem!?" I repeated. "That's no help. How can it be Mrs. Wix's problem? Misty's popping up in my bedroom. What am *I* supposed to do?"

She shrugged and smiled. "I don't know. All they said was that if it bothers you, the only solution is to get Mrs. Wix involved."

"How can I do that? What am I supposed to do? Invite her for a sleepover?"

Susan giggled at the thought. "Do you see the ghost every night?"

"No," I said. "She hasn't been back since that first time." I bristled a bit. "How can you be so nonchalant about it?"

Susan shrugged. "I guess 'cause it isn't happening to me," she said as she sipped her iced tea. "If it was me who saw her, it would be different. I suppose."

I wasn't so sure. I'd never seen Susan shocked, surprised, or stumped by anything. She seemed to just take everything in, and calmly sort it out in her head.

In fact, when she got upset about Maisie and me swapping mothers, it surprised me. I guess no matter how smart you are, you can still feel hurt from being left out.

I twisted my mouth to the side as I thought. I couldn't get the imagine of Mrs. Wix, her hair in curlers, unrolling her sleeping bag in my bedroom. And then, I had a great idea.

"Hey, Suze! Do you want to come for a sleepover?" I asked. Then, joking, I added, "I'll see if Mrs. Wix can come and we'll really make a night of it!"

"Is that a joke?" she asked cautiously. "I mean, I know the last part is, but–"

"No, it's not a joke," I replied. "I'm inviting you for a sleepover. In the hope that we get to see Misty Sabatino together."

"Oh, I wish," she sighed. "But my parents–"

"I know, I know, but you can ask, can't you? Not this weekend, though."

"Are you and Maisie doing the mom swap again this weekend?"

I nodded.

She smiled and thought a moment. "I guess I can ask. It won't hurt to ask..."

Maisie was smiling and chewing gum when she got back from the bathroom. She dropped into a chair next to Susan and groaned with pleasure. "I finally had a cigarette!" she declared. "It's been almost a week without a single puff! No wonder I was dragging!"

"Maisie," I objected, "Do the math: you've only been sick for three days–"

"I didn't smoke while I was at your house," she retorted. "I didn't want to shock your mother. So I haven't had one since last THURSDAY!"

She smiled, stuck out her tongue, and proceeded to attack her food. It was amazing to see the change in her.

"She's back!" Susan crowed.

"With a vengeance," Maisie added, speaking with her mouth full.

"Are you still up for the mom swap this weekend?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah!" she replied. "Wouldn't miss it!"

"What are you two going to be working on?" I asked.

"Oh, it's going to be a surprise, Princess," she grinned. "While you're off buffing your toenails and trying on tutus, we're going to be working."

"I'm not going to be trying on tutus," I said, a little irritated. "But I can see you're feeling better: you're already teasing me."

She scoffed. "Do you know why I tease you? It's because you're so easy! Your hackles go up at the slightest thing."

"Oh," I said. Was that why she didn't tease Susan? Suze was completely unflappable.

"Anyway," Maisie said, "unless your mother's already done it, we're going to paint the kitchen and some other rooms, and hang all the pictures. Stuff like that. What are you going to do?"

"Your mother's going to teach me about makeup," I said, and for some reason I blushed deeply.

Maisie gave a little hmmph! and Susan smiled.

"Oh, hey!" Maisie said, suddenly remembering, "Have you seen any ghosts yet?"

"No," I replied drily, as she chuckled at her own joke.

Susan and I gave each other a knowing look.

That night at dinner my mother said, "I'm glad Maisie's feeling better. I get so much done when she's here."

"Hmmph!" I said.

My mother and father glanced at each other. Mom asked, "Does it bother you that she comes here? Remember, this was your idea."

"I know," I said, "but it's getting pretty weird."

"Weird?" Mom asked. "What do mean, weird? Is it weird for you at Ida's house? Are you uncomfortable there?"

"No," I said. "I like being with Ida. She's really nice."

"So what's weird then? Not being home?"

"Oh, I don't know," I protested, sorry that I'd brought it up.

"I thought I was doing you a favor," Mom continued, "knowing how much you hate housework. But, if you'd rather stay here and help me get things done..."

"No!" I said more forcibly than I meant. Then, softly backpedaling, "I mean, it's all, you know–"

"I understand," Mom said, in a long-suffering tone. "It's alright."

"Oh, Mom," I groaned.

"Do you want to help me fix up the house?" she asked.

"If you really want me to stay," I said, trying to choose my words carefully, "or if I have to stay, I will. And I'll work hard. But, if you're letting me choose, I think I can learn a lot more if spend the weekend with Ida."

Mom said nothing. She turned her attention back to her dinner.

I wasn't sure whether I'd hurt her feelings, but I was pretty sure it was a good time to keep my mouth shut.

Dad quietly took the two of us in, then said to me, "Even when you were a boy, you weren't very handy."

"I wasn't?"

He shook his head no. "I still don't know you've managed to pull off some of the stunts you've done, like climbing a building, jumping onto a moving car, doing a chimney climb to the top of a wall..."

"To say nothing of fighting hand-to-hand with thieves and gunmen," Mom added.

"Come on," I protested. "I wasn't fi–" but Mom wasn't finished.

"Obviously, hanging curtains and unpacking boxes just isn't exciting enough for you."

"Oh, Mom! Come on!" I cried. "If you *really* want me to stay, I'll stay!"

"Oh, good!" she said. "With you and Maisie here, I'll really make progress!"

"What!? No, Mom, that's totally unfair! We — I — you..."

Mom's eyes twinkled. "Look at you!" she said. "My goodness! I'm only kidding! You really don't like working around the house, do you?"

"It isn't that," I said.

"Look," she said, "I've planned everything out, and if I can get Maisie here for two more weekends, we can finish everything. It'll be worth it to me."

"Two more weekends?" I asked. I didn't want to push Susan's sleepover off (that is, if Susan could make it).

"You like being with Ida, don't you? You talk about her a lot."

"I do?"

"Yes, you do! About makeup, and shoes, and fashion, and hair... it's Ida this and Ida that..."

"I didn't realize," I said.

"As if your own mother didn't know about those things..."

"Uh..."

"It's alright," Mom said. "I can deal with the rejection. Ida's a good influence. Just remember that I miss you. I want you here with me. At the same time, there is just too much to do, and I can't relax until the house is livable."

"Okay, okay!" I said.

"And I know that Ida loves having you there. What will you two be doing this weekend?" she asked.

"She's going to teach me about makeup," I said, and once again I blushed furiously.

© 2007 Kaleigh Way