Chapter Six

"Mommy Issues"

Casper

"Holy crap, Morticia," I said, unable to hold back. "I don't know what I ever saw in you."

The woman didn't even flinch. Instead, she propped her broomstick against the wall with the grace of someone hanging up a designer handbag and then made herself right at home on Tabitha's sofa, crossing her legs and giving me a smug smile. "Ah, ah, ah, careful now, darling," she crooned, shaking her finger at me. "Remember, your life is on the line."

I watched as Tabitha, clearly rattled, scrambled to pick up the empty coffee cup she'd dropped. She managed to recover with an awkward attempt at hospitality. "Can I…uh…get you anything to drink, Morticia?" she asked, her voice slightly shaky.

Despite the situation, warmth flooded through me. Here was the woman I cared about, trying to take the high road with my evil ex.

Morticia declined, her black bob swinging as she shook her head. "No, thank you," she replied with exaggerated politeness. Then she turned to me, her eyes narrowing mischievously. "But I'll say this, Casper—I like this girl. If you manage to save yourself and hurt her, I'll kill you again. Just saying."

Tabitha looked at me and gave a tiny, nervous smile. I couldn't help but smile back. "I don't plan to hurt her," I said, my voice firm. "In fact, I think we could really have a future together."

Morticia raised an eyebrow, a dark smile spreading across her crimson lips. "A future together? How sweet. But, let's see if you even get a future first. Now, shall we get to business?"

I cut straight to the chase. "Why are you here, Morticia? I did what you wanted. I apologized to all the women I ghosted. I've learned my lesson. So now will you please reverse the curse already?"

She looked at me, her blue eyes glinting icily, as if I were a child who had just asked for an early Christmas present. "Oh, darling," she tsked, "not so fast. Yes, you did manage to pass the first test, I'll give you that. But there's one more left. And let me tell you, it's a doozy, so listen up, buttercup."

I attempted to run a hand through my airy hair and sighed. "This better be it, Morticia. Tomorrow's Halloween."

She gave a mock-solemn nod. "Yes, if you pass this final test, I promise you'll be alive at the stroke of midnight. But if you don't…" She let the sentence dangle, her smile all too pleased. "Well, we just won't think about that, will we?"

I gritted my teeth. "Fine. Out with it. What do I have to do?"

Morticia leaned back, crossing her arms with a Cheshire grin. "Simple. You need to confess to your mother and ask for her forgiveness. I simply can't imagine a woman like Hera Thorne raised you to treat women the way you have."

My stomach dropped. This was absurd. "You're kidding me. I'm a grown man! Why should I have to go crawling to my mom?"

Morticia shot off the couch, grabbing her broomstick like she was mounting a trusty steed. She gave me a playful salute. "Take it or leave it," she said, her eyes gleaming. "But I have places to go and things to do. Toodles." With a final finger wave and a smirk in our direction, she kicked off from the floor, swooping out the window and vanishing into the night.

Tabitha rushed over to close the window, shutting out the night's chill. Then she turned to me, brow furrowed. "So, where exactly can we find your mother?"

I sighed. "She recently moved to Sweetberry Hollow, actually. She's an ER nurse at the hospital."

Tabitha tilted her head, thoughtful. "Maybe I can call her? Say I know you and I need to talk to her?"

The thought of Tabitha calling my mom made me wince, but there wasn't really a better option. "Embarrassing, but…okay. Her name's Hera Thorne like Morticia said, and here's her number."

Tabitha dialed but got no answer. "Voicemail," she murmured, hanging up without leaving a message.

I sighed. "She's probably working right now. Her shifts are 24 hours, so we might not be able to catch her until tomorrow."

Tabitha's shoulders relaxed. "Alright, we'll try tomorrow. It's late anyway."

But a gnawing worry crept into me. "I just hope by the time we find her it won't be too late."

The morning of Halloween dawned bleak and misty, casting a grayish veil over Sweetberry Hollow that seemed all too fitting for the day's looming deadline. I was antsy, pacing around as Tabitha sipped her coffee, trying her best to look composed while she dialed my mother's number yet again.

"Still nothing," she muttered, listening to the ringing, the furrow in her brow deepening with every unanswered call.

I sighed, watching the clock tick down in my mind. "It's probably because she's on her shift. She doesn't usually get off until morning, but by now she should be heading home."

Tabitha hung up, giving me a worried look. "If she's just finished a 24-hour shift, she might not even have her phone on, let alone be ready to chat with her ghost of a son." She bit her lip, considering. "Maybe we should just wait at her place. She has to go home eventually, right?"

I nodded, feeling a twist of dread in my stomach. Or whatever it was that now passed as my ghostly guts. "Yeah, let's go. If she's driving straight home from the hospital, we should get there around the same time."

A few minutes later, we were in Tabitha's car, the mist hanging low as we made our way to my mom's little cottage near the edge of town. The entire drive, I could feel my nerves tightening like a coiled spring. Talking to my mother about this, about how I'd treated women, wasn't something I ever thought I'd have to face—especially not with the stakes as high as life or death. But Morticia's ultimatum left me no choice, and if I wanted a chance at life, I had to face the music.

"Is this really how you pictured Halloween?" Tabitha asked with a half-smile, glancing over at me as she drove.

I chuckled despite myself, shaking my head. "Not even close. If you'd told me a month ago that I'd be haunting my ex, posting public apologies online, and preparing to grovel to my mom, I'd have thought you were out of your mind."

Tabitha laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Glad to be part of the chaos."

We pulled up at the curb outside my mother's small clapboard house, which looked particularly quiet and dark against the overcast sky. Tabitha parked the car and we both eyed the empty driveway with disappointment.

Tabitha turned to me, her face softening. "We'll wait as long as it takes."

I could only nod, wondering how she managed to be so kind through all of this. Just being here with me, after all the nonsense I'd put her through, made me feel like the luckiest guy—poltergeist or not.

The hours crept by, the mist thinning as the autumn sun tried to break through the cloud cover.

After we'd watched what seemed like a million funny cat videos on Tabitha's phone, she sighed. "This is feeling like one of those endless stakeouts in a bad cop movie."

I gave her a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry. This whole thing—waiting around, all of it. You've already done so much."

She shook her head, resolute. "Not a chance. You're not getting rid of me that easily, Casper Thorne."

I smiled, letting the warmth of her words seep into me, anchoring me even as everything else seemed so uncertain.

By the time dusk began to settle over Sweetberry Hollow, casting long shadows across the winding roads, I could hear Tabitha's stomach rumbling.

She shifted in her seat. "I'm starving, and well, I really need to find a bathroom too," she said, squirming uncomfortably.

I raised an eyebrow. "I'd almost forgotten about bodily needs."

"Tell you what," she said, peering down the empty street one last time before starting the car. "Let's hit the drive-thru. You may not need a burger, but I do, and I'm going to explode if I don't find a restroom soon."

I couldn't argue, figuring Mom would probably be home by the time we got back anyway. As Tabitha pulled into the dimly lit parking lot of a nearby burger joint, the wind started picking up, scattering leaves across the lot in swirling patterns. She parked and leapt out of the car, making a beeline for the restroom sign glowing near the entrance. A faint drizzle had started, coating the cracked asphalt with a glistening sheen, and the smell of fast food mingled with the fresh scent of rain.

I waited, watching the occasional car roll by under the street lamps, feeling oddly removed from it all. Watching people live their lives—going about their mundane, very non-ghostly existence—had started to feel like looking through glass. A barrier I couldn't break. That is, except when I was with Tabitha.

She returned a few minutes later, clutching a greasy bag, her cheeks flushed from the brisk walk back in the rain. She climbed back in, balancing the food on her lap as she handed me a drink out of habit, only to snatch it back with a sheepish smile.

"Old habits die hard," she joked, digging into her fries with a satisfied hum. "Honestly, you don't know what you're missing. The beauty of perfectly crisp fries and a burger you didn't have to make yourself is unbeatable."

"Oh, I remember," I said wistfully. "Right now, I'd give anything for a double quarter-pounder."

Tabitha took a big bite of her burger. "I'll savor it on your behalf, then. In the meantime, we'd better get back to your mom's."

She popped a fry into a mouth before turning the key in the ignition and we motored back to my mother's quiet street. Her little cottage was tucked away at the end of the cul-de-sac, partially hidden by tall trees whose leaves were already a rich tapestry of autumn colors. As we parked down the street and watched, headlights broke the quiet darkness and I recognized my mom's car finally pulling into the driveway.

"There she is," I said, nudging Tabitha.

She raised her eyebrows as Mom stepped out of the car, looking weary but composed, dressed in her usual nurse's scrubs. We both watched as she glanced around before heading into the house.

"Good timing," Tabitha muttered, wiping her hands on a napkin and crumpling up her burger wrapper. "I'll finish these last few fries, and we'll go say hello."

But before she could even gather her things, the front door opened again. We froze as my mother stepped back outside, but not in her usual attire. Gone were her scrubs, replaced by a nurse's uniform that made my jaw practically unhinge. Her wavy brown hair spilled loose down her shoulders, and instead of her practical sneakers, she wore a pair of dangerously high white heels. A tiny, pristine nurse's cap was perched atop her head, and the dress she wore was—well, it barely qualified as a dress. The snug white fabric hugged her curves, and I tried not to notice the ample amount of cleavage it exposed.

"What the—" I mumbled, eyes widening in disbelief. "What the hell is my mother wearing?"

Tabitha, equally shocked, let out a startled laugh. "Well, I'm guessing she's probably on her way to a Halloween party. That must be her costume for the night."

I shook my head, covering my eyes in mock horror. "I just...I really didn't need to see that."

Tabitha gave me a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "I suppose it's not every day you see your mom dressed like she's about to walk onto the set of a horror-themed rom-com."

"Let's get this over with," I muttered, taking one last bracing look before stepping out of the car.

Tabitha followed suit, still grinning as we made our way toward the cottage. But before we could reach the front steps, Mom slid back into her car, backed out of the driveway, heading down the street in the opposite direction.

"Crap," I muttered.

"We'll have to follow her to wherever she's going," Tabitha said.

Back in the car, we trailed Mom's little sedan down the winding roads. The night had deepened, the drizzle turning into a steady rain, and a layer of fog clung to the ground, giving everything an eerie, dreamlike quality. Trees loomed on either side of the road, their branches swaying in the wind. It felt like we were driving into another world entirely, one that frankly had no business existing outside of a Halloween movie.

"Where is she going?" I wondered aloud, as we'd surely passed the city limits miles ago.

After several turns, the road began to climb.

"Uh-oh," muttered Tabitha. "I think she must be heading to the Monroe Mansion."

"Crap," I said again as the towering silhouette of the estate came into view, its Gothic spires rising against the stormy sky. The place was rumored to be haunted, but no one knew much about the reclusive owner—or if there even was an owner.

A Halloween party seemed to be in full swing. Cars lined the gravel driveway, and costumed figures made their way up the grand stone steps, laughter and eerie music echoing through the rain.

Tabitha's eyes widened as she took in the scene. "We can't just let her disappear into that place without talking to her."

"I suppose we'll have to go inside," I replied grimly. The party scene was something I typically tried to avoid.

As we made our way to the entrance, I couldn't help but lay my hand over Tabitha's as if I was giving it a gentle squeeze. "You really don't know how much this means to me, Tabitha," I said quietly. "You're going above and beyond, and I won't forget it."

She glanced up at me, her eyes soft. "I believe in you, Casper. And I'm not going to stop."

Inside, the Monroe Mansion was even more surreal than it had appeared from the outside. Candle-lit chandeliers dangled from vaulted ceilings, illuminating the massive ballroom. Guests were draped in all manner of elaborate costumes—sultry vampires, ethereal fairies, eerie ghosts, and unsettling ghouls. A grand staircase wound up to the second floor, and each corner of the room seemed to hold some new oddity: a severed hand twitching on a platter, portraits with eyes that seemed to follow us, and guests with glances that lingered just a moment too long. As we moved through the crowd, I could swear some of party-goers looked directly at me, as if seeing me clearly for what I was. It made me feel both seen and unnerved, a strange contradiction I hadn't expected.

We pushed our way into the heart of the crowd, passing a long buffet table laden with strange bubbling drinks and treats. A cauldron of punch smoked dramatically, ladles dipping in and out as revelers scooped up drinks. The candy display, courtesy of the local candy shop, Sugar Rush , had every sugary temptation imaginable, being served by a woman in an angel costume, a drag queen, and a short man dressed as Sherlock Holmes who stared at me curiously through a large magnifying glass.

The sound of lively music pulled us toward the dance floor, and that's when I saw her—my mother, Hera Thorne, dressed like a nurse-slash-woman-of-the-night dancing with a tall, silver-haired man with a sharp smile and fox-like features, wearing a pair of silver fox ears perched on his head. My mother was laughing, her cheeks flushed, eyes bright with amusement as the two of them spun together in a dizzying twirl, and I promptly developed a sour taste in my mouth.

I couldn't hold back. "Mom!" I called out, my voice cutting through the din of laughter and music.

Mom stopped mid-twirl, and her eyes locked onto mine. For a split second, her gaze softened, but then her expression shifted, and she looked at me the way she did when I'd shown up late for dinner without a good excuse.

"Casper Thorne!" she called out with a sigh. "Son, you look like death! Have you been eating?"

I froze, hands dropping to my sides. "Thanks, Mom. And…what are you wearing?"

She looked down at her outfit, unbothered. "Well, it's Halloween, darling," she said, smoothing the front of her dress. Then, with the same mix of exasperation and motherly criticism I'd seen a hundred times before, she added, "And for heaven's sake, can you get a proper haircut for once?"