Crowned and Moldering

“Good job, Joh

“Ceiling should be ready to paint anytime.”

“Has Emily chosen the colors she wants in here?”

“Yeah, about six different times.”

I laughed. “She’s having an adventure.”

“She’s cool,” he said, gri

Emily had surprised us all a few months ago when she a

Nobody had believed me when I’d claimed to have seen the ghost once years ago, when my friend Jane and I had been trick-or-treating. I’d dared to peek through a window and had seen a woman sitting nearby writing a letter and crying. I didn’t realize she was a ghost until she started to fade and I could see right through her!

I didn’t dare mention it to Emily at first, but then I didn’t have to, because as we started working on the house, Mrs. Rawley made her presence known in some startling ways: shaking chandeliers, moaning and groaning, flying paint cans. Ever since we’d discovered her old diary buried behind a wall, though, she had eased up on the spirited antics. Emily insisted that the ghostly presence was comforting.

Things felt peaceful as I walked through the house, checking on the work we’d done so far. I tracked down Sean and Douglas in the kitchen, where they were removing the old sink in the butler’s pantry.

“Hey, guys,” I said.

“Hi, Sha

“That weighs a ton,” Sean said, wiping his forehead. He looked at me and smiled, but I could tell by the sad look in his eyes that he wasn’t himself yet. And who could blame him? “Where have you been all morning?”

I gri

“Did we get it?” Douglas asked.

“Yes. I’ll work up a schedule as soon as I hear from the solar company.”

“That’s awesome, boss,” Sean said, and this time his smile reached his eyes.

“I think it will be. And you know I always like trying something new and different.”

“This will be different,” Douglas agreed.

Sean stuck his cap on his head. “Ready to move another sink?”

“Let’s do it,” Douglas said.

“Wait, Sean,” I interjected. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure.” He glanced at Douglas. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“No problem,” Douglas said. He grabbed a half-filled bottle of water and chugged it down.

I led the way to the kitchen door and we walked outside.

“What’s up, boss?”

I quickly zipped up my down jacket to keep the cold March wind from turning me into an icicle. The sky above us was crystal blue, but out along the horizon, dark gray clouds loomed once more. The air practically snapped with the smell of ozone and salt. I didn’t need a meteorologist to predict it would be raining by sunset. I turned and faced Sean. “I saw Chief Jensen at the school this morning, going into the counselors’ offices.”

He thought about that and I saw the exact moment when the light dawned. “He wants to talk to Lily’s high school counselor.”

I crossed my arms. “That’s what I figured.”

Sean’s placid expression turned to a glower. “That’s good. That makes sense. I just hope he kicks that jackass in the behind for the things he told Lily.”

I asked the question carefully. “Exactly which jackass are you referring to?”

He glared at me. “Who else? Dismal Dain.”

“Okay.” I sighed. “I figured it might be him.”

“Did you know him?”

“I was assigned to him when I was a freshman, but he was so awful, my father finally protested and I got switched to Mrs. Sweet.”

“You’re lucky you had a father who cared.” Sean scuffed his boot against the cement foundation. “Lily, not so much.”

“Dain was horrible,” I said, remembering the man’s mortifying advice as clearly as if I’d heard it an only hour ago. “He was an impossible combination of stupid and arrogant and hateful.”

“Tell me about it.”

So I did, relating some of the highlights of my conversations with Dain. By the time I was finished, Sean was laughing again.

“He thought you should be a hairdresser? That’s priceless. The guy’s a moron.”

“I know.” I brushed my hair back self-consciously.

“Oh, come on, boss. You’ve got great hair.”

“And a lot of it.”

“Maybe that’s how he came up with the idea. He sure didn’t bother to get to know you, because if he had, he would’ve realized that you’ve been working construction since you were a kid and you’re good at it besides. The guy didn’t have a clue how to do his job.”

A gust of wind swept by and I pulled my collar close to my neck to keep warm. “He should’ve been fired years ago. I still can’t believe he’s still there.”

He shook his head. “Me neither.”

“He must be blackmailing somebody on the school board or something. There’s no way he could’ve lasted this long otherwise.”

Sean chuckled. “That’s one explanation. I don’t know how they can justify paying him an actual salary to dole out such bad advice.”

“Do you have any idea what kind of stuff he told Lily?”

“Oh yeah.” He sniffed in disgust, crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned back against the side of the house. “Remember how Lily had the lead in the school play?”

“Sure. I used to watch her every night while I was building sets. She was so talented and beautiful.”

“She was a good student, too, despite all our problems at home. She was determined to win a full drama college scholarship, but she made the mistake of mentioning that to Dain.”

“What did he do?”

Sean gritted his teeth. “He laughed in her face.”

I blinked. “Are you kidding?”

“He actually called her a fool. Told her to give it up and get real.” Sean scraped his hands through his hair in frustration. “I’ll never forget it. I found her in tears one afternoon, and she told me Dain had told her to stop with the foolish notion of college. He said her home life was so bleak, she’d never get any academic support. I guess that much was true.”

I squeezed his arm. “You supported her, Sean. And so did Amy.”

“Yeah, we did.” He shoved himself away from the wall and paced a few feet back and forth. “Dain said that besides not being smart enough, she had too much flamboyant theatrical style—I’ll never forget those words. And he said that no reputable college would want her on their campus.”

“That is incredibly harsh and unfair and wrong. And flamboyant theatrical style? What in the world was that supposed to mean?”

“I have no idea. The only time she was theatrical was when she was onstage. She always dressed conservatively. My mother would have a fit if she walked out of the house showing any skin. So I have no clue what he was talking about.”

I was fuming on Lily’s behalf. “How rude of him to say that no reputable college would want her. She could’ve gotten a drama scholarship anywhere. Or an academic one, if she wanted to.” I pounded my fist into my hand, unable to do anything to help the situation. “I would love to throttle him.”

“I’d like to do more than that,” Sean muttered. “And here’s the kicker. Dain told Lily she was better suited for work as a shopgirl.”

“A shopgirl? That was it?”

“Yeah.”

“Who uses that kind of term? It sounds like something out of a Dickens novel.” I thought about it. “Did he say what kind of shop?”

“No. It didn’t matter to him—that’s the point.”

I shook my head. “Maybe if Dain had his way, Lily and I would’ve gone into business together. We could’ve opened a beauty shop.”

Sean managed a laugh. “Because you both have hair, right?”