Who Invited the Ghost to Dinner?: Ghost Writer Mysteries, #2

By Teresa Watson

Cam Shaw is hoping that her life will be ghost-free from now on. But that hope dies with the appearance of Mac “the Faker” Green, a wise-cracking ghost from Vegas who has followed her grandmother home. And during the opening night of Blithe Spirit, someone has sent Susan Ingram to her ghostly afterlife. What does her death have to do with the death of her mother-in-law fifty years ago? Who is trying to wipe out the Ingram family one person at a time? And when will that Vegas ghost stop sticking his nose into Cam’s business?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Teresa Watson
• Release date: Feb 2, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524219376

Book preview

Chapter 1

Monday

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"Mike, you cannot drag an elderly man into your office and threaten to throw him in jail just because he won’t tell you where your grandfather is," I said.

The look on Chief Mike Penhall’s face said otherwise.

Am I the only one around here who is remaining calm about this situation?

The disappearance of two old people is not what I would call a situation, Cam.

What would you call it?

A kidnapping.

I rolled my eyes, shook my head and sighed. My mother, Charlotte Shaw, and Mike were freaking out because Mike’s grandfather, Walt Penhall, and my grandmother, Alma Dreyer, had disappeared two days ago. I was pretty sure there was nothing nefarious about it, but Mike and Mother weren’t convinced. Just how long are you planning on leaving Pete in the interview room?

Mike shrugged. Not long.

I shook my head and stood up. This nonsense ends right now, I told him as I left his office. I went down the hall to the interview room and opened the door. Pete Wyatt was sitting in a gray chair at a metallic gray table, but he wasn’t alone. A young woman with light brown hair sat across from him, laughing at something he had said.

Pete looked over at me as I entered the room. Cam, what are you doing here?

Orchestrating a jail break, I replied. Are you ready to get out of here?

You bet! he grinned. It’s meatloaf day at the home. The cook puts slices of green bell pepper in it, and it tastes wonderful. This lovely young lady is my granddaughter, Margaret Jewell Davidson, but most people just call her M.J. She was coming to see me when Mike hauled me in. How did you know I was here?

We shook hands. It’s a pleasure to meet you, M.J. I’m Cam Shaw, I said. Rose saw Mike put you in his squad car this morning. She called my dad at the coffeehouse, and he told me after the early rush was over.

Ah, bless Rose’s heart, Pete said. I thought that was her I saw walking through the garden. Come on, M.J., let’s go.

M.J. grabbed her purse. Did the chief say it was all right to leave? I don’t want Gramps to get into any more trouble.

You’re assuming I did something to get into trouble in the first place, Pete said, looking offended.

We made our way down the hall to the front door; Mike was standing in front of it. Where do you think you’re going? Mike asked Pete.

Meatloaf day, Pete replied.

I’m not done talking to you yet.

I glared at him. Yes, you are. Now move out of the way.

He shook his head.

Pete, you and M.J. head out to my car. I’ll be right there, I said as I grabbed Mike by the arm, dragging him out of the way so they could make a break for it. Listen, I will talk to Pete myself, in a non-hostile environment. He’ll open up to me.

He better, Mike growled. I’m getting sick and tired of answering your mother’s calls every hour. Just then, his cell phone rang. He pulled it out. Speak of the devil...

Good luck with that, I told him as I ran out the door after Pete.

Call me later, Mike said.

I just waved and kept going. Did you drive over here, M.J.? I asked.

No, I walked. I don’t live that far away.

I unlocked the car doors of my Olds 442, my pride and joy, and we all piled in. As we headed for the home, I glanced sideways at Pete. Okay, we’re away from Mike. If I ask you, will you please tell me where Grandma Alma and Walt are?

Vegas.

It’s a good thing we came to a stop sign, because I turned and stared at him. I’m sorry, did you say Vegas? As in Las Vegas?

Do you know of any other Vegas? Pete chuckled.

The truck behind me honked, and I drove through the intersection. What in the world are they doing there?

"What do you think they are doing there?" he said mischievously.

Ew, TMI, Grandpa, M.J. said from the back seat.

I agree, I said. Why didn’t they tell anyone where they were going?

Because all of you treat them like they are frail flowers that have to be kept under glass. They may be older, but they’re not dead. There is life beyond the four walls of that building, he replied, pointing at the nursing home as I parked in front of it. Let them live, Cam. Tomorrow isn’t a sure thing, and none of us want to spend it sitting on our butts, playing dominoes or watching TV all day.

I guess none of us stopped to consider that, I admitted.

That’s the problem with the younger generations, Pete said. You’re all so busy scheduling your lives on your little phones, you don’t take time to stop and enjoy life. There’s a whole world out there, waiting for you to discover it. Just remember to look around you.

I nodded as they got out of the car. Did they tell you when they were going to be back?

Nope, he replied. Oh, there’s just one more thing.

What’s that?

They didn’t go to Vegas to play blackjack.

I’m sure there are plenty of other games they can play, I laughed, although I’m sure Grandma Alma would win at any game she played.

"But there are other things to do in Vegas."

Well, yeah, there are plenty of shows they can go to.

Pete sighed and shook his head.

And then it hit me. No, they didn’t, I said.

Yep, he laughed, they eloped!

Chapter 2

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"How am I going to tell my mother that her mother eloped to Vegas?" I groaned to my best friend, Randy Cross, twenty minutes later.

We were at the front counter of Randy’s bookstore, The Crack’d Spine, which was right across the street from Jim’s Heavenly Roasted Java (but Charlotte Runs It), my parents’ coffeehouse. A better question: What are you going to tell Mike?

I leaned on the counter and put my hands on my hands. They both are going to blow a gasket.

Do you know for sure that they got married in Vegas?

"They called Pete from the Viva Las Vegas Wedding Chapel. He said he could hear the theme song from The Godfather playing in the background."

Are you serious? Randy started laughing. Were there guys with machine guns guarding the minister?

I have no idea. I don’t think I even want to know.

I think it’s great. Good for them.

Why didn’t they mention to any of us that they wanted to get married?

Look at how y’all are reacting now, Randy pointed out. Can you imagine what your mother would have said if she had known about it ahead of time?

She would’ve found a way to lock her in her room.

I have to agree with Pete about the way your mother treats your grandma. She definitely treats her like a child. Your grandmother may be eighty-four, but she acts like she’s sixty. Who knows how much longer she’s going to be around? None of us knows the answer to that. We don’t come with an expiration date tattooed on our butts. Let them live their lives the way they want to. There are times when I’d rather hang around with Alma than with you.

Thanks a lot.

You act like an old woman sometimes, Cam. When given the choice of going out or staying home, you stay home, wearing your old lounging pants and a T-shirt, eating M&Ms and watching sports on TV. You aren’t living; you’re sitting at home watching life pass you by. Your grandma is running out the door yelling, ‘Catch me if you can!’ I’d rather be with her, although I’m not sure I could keep up with her.

Wow, I had no idea you think I’m a dull person with no life, Randy.

I didn’t say that. You just need to learn how to have fun again. And a wardrobe makeover wouldn’t hurt, either.

I like my quiet life and my clothes.

But you have to admit that you really enjoyed solving that mystery last year. Have you seen your ‘client’ recently?

No, and I’m not expecting to, I said. My ‘client’ had been a ghost who hired me to solve his murder. While I found it quite unnerving to discover I could see and talk to ghosts, I did enjoy the excitement of finding the truth. But I wasn’t planning to ever do it again. The only ghosts I wanted to deal with were the living, breathing people who wanted me to ghostwrite a story for them. We’re getting sidetracked here. I need to figure out how to tell Mike and my mother what’s going on.

Dinner in a restaurant, Randy suggested. There’s no way your mother will make a scene in public.

That’s perfect!

We can go to that new Mexican restaurant that just opened near the edge of town. I’ve been dying to try it.

We?

You don’t think I’m going to miss this, do you? I want to see how many shades of red Mike’s face is going to turn when you tell him his grandfather is married. He got a thoughtful look on his face. Doesn’t that make you two related now?

No, it doesn’t.

Better make sure. It could put quite a crimp in your relationship.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head as I pulled my phone out to call everyone.

***

Cam, don’t forget that we’re going to be setting up for the dinner and a show on Thursday night, Mother said during dinner. I need you there to make sure the tables are set, the costumes are ready, and that everyone knows their lines.

I thought that was your job.

It was, until Cynthia McDaniels called last night. She got into an argument with Simon Edwards, the lead male actor, and absolutely refuses to work with him anymore.

What was the argument about?

He called her an interfering, dominating control freak who knew nothing about acting, and that if she didn’t leave him alone, he was going to shove the script down her throat and quit.

If he was upset with Cynthia, I’m sure the language he used was more colorful, Mike chuckled.

Yes, it was, Mother agreed, and Cynthia enjoyed telling me every single word. She is an irritating woman.

But if it wasn’t for her, I told Mother, we wouldn’t be holding the dinner theatre in the first place.

I know, she sighed. Frankly, I wish this wasn’t happening right now. But I felt it was better if she stepped aside, and surprisingly, she agreed. We really should be focusing on more important matters. She turned her steely gaze on Mike. Speaking of which, I heard you arrested Pete this morning. Did he tell you where my mother is?

I didn’t arrest him, he replied. I just brought him in to ask him a few questions.

I snorted.

However, someone made him leave, so I wasn’t able to find out anything.

And you just let him walk out the door?

I didn’t have a legal right to hold him, and the person who rescued him told me that I couldn’t force him to answer my questions.

Who is this person? I’ll have a talk with them and tell them to mind their own business.

Mike looked pointedly at me. Oh, he did not just throw me under the bus. Your daughter.

Camille!

Before you have a cow, Mother, I said while continuing to glare at Mike, hear me out.

She started to say something, but Dad put his hand on top of hers. I’m sure Cam had a very good reason for what she did, Charlotte. Let her talk.

Browbeating Pete won’t help you find Grandma Alma or Walt. The best approach is on neutral territory. Just have a nice, friendly conversation with him.

We’ve tried that, and we didn’t get anywhere, she said.

Mother, you marched into the nursing home and demanded he tell you where they were at, or you were going to make sure they kicked him out. That’s hardly a nice, friendly conversation.

Besides, Randy said, he told Cam where to find them.

Mother gasped and glared at me. I glared at Randy, who just sat back and smiled.

Did he really tell you? Mike asked me.

Yes.

Where are they? Mother wanted to know.

Vegas.

Las Vegas? she said. He must be joking.

I shook my head. I verified it before I got here. They’re definitely there.

Did you talk to her? Did you order her to come home? she said.

No, I did not talk to her. The woman who answered the phone knew who I was talking about immediately. I couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She mentioned something about Grandma Alma being banned from the poker tables.

Mike and Randy laughed, my father shook his head, and Mother looked like she wanted to cry.

But there’s something else you need to know.

Don’t tell me she owes them money, Mother said.

No, no, they owe her money, actually, which is why she’s banned from playing poker. No, they, um...well, hmm...

They got married, Randy said. I looked at him, wide-eyed, and he just gave me a big grin. He was enjoying this way too much.

Surprisingly, Mike started laughing.

Mother wasn’t amused. Married? They got married?

Yes, they did.

Where?

At the Viva Las Vegas Wedding Chapel.

They were married by Elvis?!

No.

Thank God for that, she said.

The Godfather.

Excuse me?

They had a gangster wedding, and the minister was dressed like the head of a crime family.

Did they fire off guns after they said ‘I do’? Mike snickered.

I don’t know.

Mother put her right elbow on the table, and covered her eyes with her hand. I don’t believe it. Jim, we have to get them back here and have that marriage annulled.

Why? I asked her.

Because I can’t have my mother married to... she glanced at Mike.

Married to my grandfather? Mike finished for her. We don’t have the right to tell them how to live their lives, much less tell them who they can and can’t marry.

He’s right, Mother, I said.

Your mother is an awesome lady, Mrs. Shaw, Randy said. If she had married into my family, I’d be thrilled to have her.

But she’s too old to get married.

Now Charlotte, you know that’s not true, Dad said. How many weddings have I done where the newlyweds were in their nineties? Several, and they were just as happy and giddy as if they were in their twenties. And just because she married Walt doesn’t mean she doesn’t love your father anymore.

I could tell by the look on her face that Dad had figured out what the real problem was with this whole wedding thing. Mother, why don’t you plan a wedding reception while Dad flies to Vegas to bring them home? I’m sure they’ll let you have one at the nursing home.

That’s an excellent idea, Randy agreed. I’m sure we can consult the nutritionist to make sure that we serve something healthy that everyone can eat. Alma and Walt will want to celebrate their happiness with their family and friends.

That is an excellent idea, Randy, Mother said. Will you help me plan it?

There was nothing that Randy loved to do more than to plan a party. Absolutely! He moved over to the empty seat next to her, and the two of them began to brainstorm.

Well, that went better than I expected, I said. I figured she’d go through the roof.

We still have one problem, Dad said. We need to go get them and bring them home.

Who is this ‘we’ you’re talking about? I hope you are talking about you and Mike. I’ve got my hands full trying to do the last minute details for the dinner theatre this weekend.

I can’t, Mike shook his head. I’m down one man at work, so I’m filling in.

Why can’t you go by yourself, Dad?

Can you picture me, on a plane, with your grandmother? We can barely handle being in the same room together most of the time.

I’ve got some work for a client to do as well, and I’m scheduled to work at the bookstore tomorrow.

I can cover your shift tomorrow, Cam, Randy said.

Dad and Mike looked at me.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. Fine, I’ll go with you.

Dad pulled out his phone. Let me make a couple of phone calls. I’ll get us a flight out to Vegas, and book a hotel. We’ll probably have to spend at least one night there. Do you know where they’re staying?

Yes, I do, although I think they’ve been spending a lot of time at the Four Queens and Casino Royale, where she’s banned from playing poker.

Dad shook his head. Unbelievable. How much did she win?

I have no idea. All I know is she ran the tables, and they politely asked her to go play slots instead.

She is going to drive me insane, he muttered as he scrolled through his contact list.

Mike touched my arm. Did she really get banned?

Oh yeah. Don’t act surprised. She’s a card shark.

Now I know where you get it from, he said.

I learned from the best.

Thank you for making sure my grandfather gets home safe.

My pleasure. I’m fond of the old guy.

Want to have dinner when you get back? he suggested.

If I have the time.

All right, we have a flight out at seven in the morning. You better go home and pack an overnight bag. Put in enough for two days and nights, just in case.

I’m actually looking forward to this, I said. I’ve never been to Vegas before.

Little did I know, by the time everything was said and done, I was going to wish I had never gone to Las Vegas.

Chapter 3  

Tuesday

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I’m not a morning person, so getting to the airport at five a.m., with only five hours of sleep, left me very grouchy. By the time we arrived in Las Vegas just after eight, I was hungry, too.

We rented a car and drove to Caesar’s Palace. I wanted to hit the Bacchanal Buffet as soon as we walked in the door, but Dad wanted to check into our rooms first. Thirty minutes later, we finally entered the dining area, and the first thing I saw was Grandma Alma and Walt sitting at a table. I grabbed Dad’s arm and pointed. Let’s get some food first, and then we’ll sit down with them, he said.

I liked the way his mind worked, and followed him over to the buffet. There were so many things to choose from that I had a hard time deciding what to eat. But I figured I could always come back for seconds, so I quickly filled my plate, and walked over to the newlyweds’ table.

Well, well, what a surprise! Grandma Alma said as we sat down across from them. What brings you two to Vegas?

Really, Mom? You’re seriously going to ask me that? Dad said. You’re the one that eloped to Vegas, got banned from playing poker in two casinos, and you want to know why we’re here?

Pete ratted us out, she pouted.

Not exactly, I said. I asked him nicely where you were at...

After Mike threatened to throw Pete in jail if he didn’t tell him where you were, Dad said.

My grandson did that? Walt frowned. I’m going to have a talk with that young man when I get home.

I took care of it, I told him. I’m the one that broke Pete out. That’s why he told me where you were at.

What a good girl you are, Walt said.

And where’s my daughter?

Planning a wedding reception for you, Dad said.

How wonderful! Grandma Alma clapped her hands. I do hope she’s going to make those little Mexican wedding cookies. I just love those!

Let’s not worry about that right now, Dad said. We need to make reservations to go home.

Oh, but we can’t go home today, Walt said. Alma is in a poker tournament at the Flamingo later. We haven’t been banned from there yet.

Dad started to say something, but I put my hand on his arm. Coming to Las Vegas is not something a retired Methodist minister would normally do. It’s their honeymoon. We should let them do what they want.

He muttered something under his breath, but reluctantly nodded his head. I knew he would probably spend most of the day in his room, reading a book or watching TV.

We spent the rest of our breakfast listening to Grandma Alma and Walt tell us about their wedding and all the fun they had been having. As we walked out, my grandmother held me back, and let the two men get ahead of us. There’s just one little thing...

I was really hoping this wasn’t going to turn into an uncomfortable talk about the birds and the bees. What’s up?

Well, I think there’s someone watching us.

Someone you’ve played poker with? You didn’t cheat, did you?

Grandma Alma looked offended. How dare you ask me that?!

I’m sorry, you’re right. So who is this other person?

I believe she’s talking about me, a male voice said from behind us.

I turned around, and there was a young man, dressed in a light gray suit, white shirt, skinny black tie, a handkerchief in the top pocket of his suit, and black dress shoes. He was wearing a black fedora that was slightly tipped to the right. He looked like he had just stepped out of the movie "Ocean’s 11 (the original, which I loved, not the remake, which was okay, but it’s not the same as the first one). You’ve been thinking about me? the man said. Did you have a dirty dream about us last night?"

My eyes widened at his brashness. Behave yourself, that’s my grandmother you’re talking to, I admonished him.

Who are you talking to? Grandma Alma asked me, looking around.

Hey, hey, calm down, little girl, he replied. I think the old broad’s pretty hot. I wouldn’t mind if she blew on my dice once or twice.

I’m going to complain to the management about you, I told him. I’m sure they won’t appreciate one of their entertainers harassing the guests.

He laughed. What makes you think I work here?

Because you’re dressed like you’re part of the Rat Pack tribute band.

He never called them that. That was all those reporters. Never did understand why.

Who never called them that?

Frank. He always hated that name.

How do you know?

I overheard him one night at the Sands.

Grandma Alma interrupted us. Cam, you do realize you’re talking to yourself, don’t you?

That was a nice wedding ceremony she had, by the way, the man continued. A bit corny with the preacher holding a Tommy gun, though.

There were guns at the wedding? I asked her.

They were props.

Should have been real. That guy she married is a louse.

He’s a retired police chief, I said.

A copper. It figures, the man said disgustedly.

If you aren’t an employee, then who are you?

He took off his black fedora and held it against his chest. Mac ‘the Faker’ Green.

The Faker?

Long story, he said. Not important.

Why are you bothering my grandmother?

Grandma Alma put her hand on my arm. Cam, lower your voice, please. People are starting to stare at us.

I suddenly realized what Grandma Alma’s problem was.

Mac Green was a ghost, and he wasn’t faking it.

Thirty minutes later, Grandma Alma and I were standing in the bathroom of their honeymoon suite. I was counting on our ghost having the decency to stay out while we were in there. All right, what’s going on?

I have absolutely no idea, she said. After the wedding, we came back here. Suddenly, things started moving from one spot to the other on the dresser. One time, the TV came on suddenly when we were asleep. When we were at one of the shows, someone started throwing peanuts at us. One of them went down my blouse!

Well, you seem to have picked up a ghost, Grandma.

I figured that out when you were standing in the dining room, carrying on a conversation with thin air, she retorted. What I want to know is why.

Certainly a fair question. I just wasn’t sure I wanted to know what the answer was. I’ll try and find out.

Can I be there when you talk to him?

I shrugged. Why not?

We opened the door and went back into the room. Walt was sitting on the bed, and Mac the Faker was sitting next to him. Do you have to sit there? I asked Mac.

Walt looked at me, confused. Where do you want me to sit?

No, not you, dear, Grandma Alma told him. There’s a gangster sitting on the bed next to you.

Walt looked at her like she had gone ‘round the bend. Excuse me?

Remember Stanley?

Of course, he replied.

Well, we have another ghost.

Oh good Lord, he muttered. What does this one want?

I looked at Mac. You heard the man. What do you want?

Who says I want anything? I’m just having a little fun.

Uh-huh, I said. I don’t believe you. Have you done this sort of thing before?

Mostly at the wedding chapel, he admitted. Lifted a few skirts here and there, knocked a few hats off. Little things to amuse myself. It gets boring hanging around there all the time.

Why don’t you go somewhere else?

Because my body’s under that black junk in front of the place.

You mean you’re buried under the parking lot?

He’s what? Walt said.

Ask him about Frank, Grandma Alma said eagerly.

Frank who? Walt asked.

Ol’ Blue Eyes, of course, she replied.

Why would he know about him?

Because he told Cam that he knew him. I had the biggest crush on Frank when I was young.

Yeah, Frank had that effect on every woman, Mac chuckled. He could charm the skirts off...

TMI, I interrupted him.

What is TMI?

Too much information, I told him.

Did he know any real gangsters? Grandma Alma said.

Gangsters? Walt said. Who the heck is this guy?

Stop! I said, holding up my hands. Do you mind if I ask the questions here?

Where’s your father? she said.

In his room reading, probably.

Good. He wouldn’t be happy about having a ghost around.

Mac seemed to be thrilled about all the attention he was getting. I had a feeling he wasn’t really what he pretended to be.

Leaning back and crossing my arms, I said, You weren’t really a gangster, were you?

Of course I was! Mac replied indignantly. I was one of the most feared men around. Ask anybody.

I think you’re full of it, I told him as I stood up. Go back to the wedding chapel, go downstairs, go wherever you want. Just go away. I looked at the newlyweds. We’ve got a flight out in the morning, and we’re all going home together.

Of course, dear, Grandma Alma said. We already have our plane tickets. Did you think we were going to stay here forever?

Mother isn’t too happy with you, you know.

Pft, she’ll get over it. Tell her to pull up her big girl panties and deal with it.

Grandma!

Mac laughed. I like her; she’s feisty.

I ignored him. She’s not going to get over it. You took off without telling anyone where you were going.

Let me tell you something, missy, Grandma Alma said. I may be eighty-four-years old, but I’m not dead yet. I don’t need her, you, or anyone telling me what I can and can’t do. All this bologna about having to stay at the home all the time, not going anywhere without being checked out by someone...well, it’s going to stop. I know what I can and can’t eat; I’m also well aware of my physical limitations. But I’m still as sharp as a tack, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to spend the rest of my life sitting in that fake cheerful place, pretending everything is just fine. Walt and I are going to do what we want, when we want, and if you, your mother, Mike, or anyone else don’t like that, too bad!

I looked at Walt, who was nodding his head. What she said goes for me, too.

For a moment, I wondered if Mother was going to be like this when she was eighty-four. God help me if she was. But Grandma Alma made some very valid points, and I couldn’t argue with any of them. You’re right.

And another thing...wait, what?

I said you’re right.

Really?

Really.

That was too easy, she said suspiciously. What’s the catch?

I might have talked to Pete about this.

Great, now we just have to convince your mother.

You’re on your own.

Why don’t we go downstairs and play some poker? Grandma Alma said.

You’re not allowed to play poker, I reminded her, only slots.

What are we going to do about you know who? Walt said, looking around the room.

Who?

Casper.

My name is Mac, not Casper, you old geezer.

Hey, hey, that’s my grandfather you’re talking about! I glared at Mac. Mind your manners.

Mac put his fedora on. You guys are boring. I’m leaving. He walked through the room door.

I hoped that was the last we were going to see of the fake gangster.

Frankly, I hoped that was the last ghost I was going to see again, period.

Chapter 4

Thursday

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The rest of the Las Vegas trip had been uneventful. We never saw Mac again, which thrilled me to no end. Once we got home, Grandma Alma sat down with Mother and had a long talk with her. I’m not sure what was said, but the two of them came to an understanding. The newlyweds moved into a little cottage on the nursing home grounds, and were extremely happy. There were rumors about poker games that went on for hours, which didn’t surprise me one bit. I just hoped she was letting the others win once in awhile.

On Thursday afternoon, I parked near the theatre and got out. The outside of the building was not impressive. It was hexagon shaped, painted grey, and had been built in the early 1900s. But once you stepped inside, it became breathtaking. The inside always reminded me of a circus tent in a way, with more than a dozen pillars equally spaced around the room. Handcrafted wood flooring, paneling, and ceiling, with handmade benches...it was true craftsmanship at its finest, as my father would say. Where normally there would be paned glass, there were shutters that could be removed to let in the cool spring air, or covered during bad weather. It was capable of seating nine hundred people, but with the tables set up, it could handle maybe three hundred. The benches were lined up on either side of rectangular tables, with wooden chairs at either end. Thirty tables were set around the spacious theatre, with long tables set in front of two walls in the back, where the caterer would set up the buffet.

There were three ways to get up to the stage: steps on either side, and a set of steps up the middle. The gold curtains were closed, and I could hear some hammering coming from behind it. Someone was probably doing some last minute work on the set.

Cam, I need you to put the silverware on the tables, please, Mother said as she walked over to me. One of the girls had an emergency at home and had to leave.

Happy to help, Mother.

I picked up the large basket of silverware and carried them into the dining room. Fifteen tables were covered with red tablecloths, the other fifteen covered with green. White cloth napkins sat next to white plates with gold edging. I sat my basket in a chair at the nearest table and got to work.

No, my dear, the smallest fork goes to the outside, not closest to the plate, a female voice said next to me. I looked up to see a young woman, about thirty-five-years old, standing on the other side of the table.