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stoops to take a tray out of the oven, the scent of roasted vegetables wafting out in a cloud. “Oh. I met them earlier this morning.” He starts turning over the beets and carrots. “Interesting couple. Turns out the man used to be in a seventies rock group, though I can’t say I’ve ever heard one of their songs. Your sister would probably know. Or that husband of hers,” he mumbles under his breath.
    “What band?”
    “Hybrid? I can’t remember. Something that would induce a lot of drug use, I’m sure.” A silence falls between us, thick and uneasy. I know he’s thinking about Perry when she was younger. I know he’s thinking about me last year.
    I clear my throat. “Well that’s good that they’re cool,” I tell him. “Need any help? What time are they coming over anyway?”
    There’s a brief knock at the door before we hear it open. Dad sighs. “I suppose that’s them.”
    “Hello?” Perry calls out from around the corner. She comes into the kitchen and drops a giant duffle bag on the floor that’s nearly the size of her.
    “You’re here for a night, Perry,” my dad chides her, putting the vegetables back in the oven. “You’ve gotten just as bad as Ada at packing.”
    “She wishes,” I mumble before going over to Perry and giving her a hug. I catch a whiff of cigarettes in her dark ponytail. “Ugh, have you taken up smoking?”
    “No,” she says exasperated as she pulls back. “Guess who thought he could smoke one cigarette and not get re-addicted?”
    “My ears are burning!” comes Dex’s voice from outside.
    “No, that’s your fucking cancer stick that’s burning!” Perry yells right back. She looks back at me and shakes her head. “Asshole.”
    “Language, please,” my father says, rolling his eyes before coming over and giving her a tight embrace. I’d just seen the two of them a few weeks ago when I went up to their place in a Seattle for a few nights, but my dad hasn’t seen them in at least a month. And while he can do without seeing Dex, I know he misses Perry dearly.
    She’s looking good. Her weight fluctuates like most women’s, though her giant boobs are always constant. I definitely wasn’t blessed in that department. I may have inherited our mother’s blonde hair and long limbs but Perry got all the sultry Italian curves from our dad’s side. The only thing we really have in common are our sky blue eyes. Oh, and the whole seeing ghosts thing.
    Which sucks.
    “I’ve tried to get him onto E-cigarettes,” Perry says to dad.
    Dex’s laugh comes loud and clear along with a waft of smoke, and I figure he’s on the front steps finishing his cigarette.
    “You want him to vape?” I ask Perry, raising my brow. “You might as well as staple the word ‘shitdick’ to his forehead.”
    “Ada,” my dad admonishes me.
    Dex laughs again and the front door closes. He appears in the kitchen entryway, looking at Perry with raised brows. “You see? Only shitdicks vape. Your sister knows what’s up.”
    “I always know what’s up,” I tell him dryly.
    He shrugs, conceding, and nods at my father, tipping his newsboy cap at him. “Daniel.”
    “Dex,” is his reply before he turns around to busy himself with more food.
    “Can I help with anything?” Perry asks but our dad shoos us away.
    “Go put your stuff away and relax,” he says, opening the fridge. “Dinner will be ready in a half hour.”
    Dex scoops up Perry’s bag, his large bicep muscles flexing beneath the sleeve of his grey tee shirt. He grins at me, wagging his brows and I immediately make a noise of disgust, looking away.
    Okay, here’s the truth about Declan “Dex” Foray. He bugs the absolute shit out of me, always has since he first waltzed into our lives all those years ago with his wannabe Robert Downey Jr. mustache and goatee and video camera. I thought he was here to exploit my sister, roping her into their YouTube channel as they investigated ghosts and the paranormal. Instead, he