The Ordinary Haunting

24. The Conversations - Part 2

"Are ghosts supposed to look all handsome like you?"

Oh my God, what is it with this family?

I tried to avoid glancing at New next to me even just to share a laugh as he determinedly bit his mouth shut. The rest of his relatives, Pleum, Doe, his father Ray and Pleum's wife Fern all paused in their eating to scrutinise me carefully. Well, Pleum didn't really, he just strained his eyes at my seat, apparently trying to conjure up my spirit. I hadn't yet had a chance to consider the meaning behind both sons of the Techaapaikhun family being (initially, anyway) unable to see me, even after others had.

I laughed nervously as Fern's question continued to hang in the air, weirdly expecting an answer. "I m-mean, ghosts just look how they looked in life," I replied, swearing inwardly at every hot tickle of embarrassment traveling up the back of my neck. "I think. I consider myself pretty average-looking--"

"Now who told you that, boy?" Ray jumped in, bushy eyebrows pinched. "You're not telling me the gents in the city somehow have a different level of pedigree than the country? 'Cause out here you'd be chased down the streets soon as you stepped out the house--"

"Pa, what dramas have you been watching?" New scoffed into his spaghetti. He'd had a quick shower after the long drive and his hair was falling into his eyes, fluffy and shiny. "Nobody gets 'chased down the streets' for being good-looking."

"I bet he would."

"Goodness, Grandpa, you've been quite taken in!" Fern giggled. She tossed her hair over her shoulder -- the same hair that Doe had inherited -- and wiped sauce from her daughter's cheek. "Now I see I just needed to be prettier to get your approval earlier!"

"Fern, it wasn't your looks that got you that. Looks can never replace good, old-fashioned hard work. I've told my boys this since they were on the changing table--"

"Work hard and you'll never live hard," both New and Pleum chimed in. Pleum said it with an easy glitter to his eye, winking at his wife, but New said it frowning down at his food. I pushed the salad bowl until it clinked against his plate. He ignored it and filled his mouth with another huge helping of pasta.

"You're going to give yourself heartburn," I warned. He just shrugged.

"And look at you both now," Ray continued, a huge, rectangular smile pushing his cheeks aside. "They both graduated basically at the top of their class, you know, Tawan. New couldn't be beat in mathematics and the sciences, and languages too. Everyone thought he'd go into business but then he got himself accepted into one of them prestigious university journalism courses on a scholarship. I didn't fully understand it, but he was doing real well until all that baloney that happened overseas--"

"Pa--"

"And Pleum, he's got himself this beautiful family and is running my orchard better than I ever did. I wouldn't mind if New wanted to come back and do the accounting..."

"Pa, did you read that book that New edited?" Pleum patted his father on the shoulder. "The one I recommended, set on the Burma Railway?"

"I haven't got time to read. Gotta oversee the gentlemen's club in town. That Tip has been angling for my position as Manager recently. He is a snake, that one."

"Does he like mice, like Jake?" Doe perked up and waved her fork excitedly. Pasta was tossed through the air; a large chunk hit me in the face and slid an oily line towards my chin.

"Doe! I'm sorry, everyone -- Tay," Fern cried.

New glanced up from cleaning a piece off his hand and the tension in his jaw immediately broke. He let out a short, choked laugh and stood up to get some paper towel. I stealthily dipped my fingers in the remaining sauce in his bowl and, when he returned and held out the paper, I purposefully swiped them over the back of his hand. He let his eyelids droop in overstated unsurprise and went to snatch the towel back from me. I kept it out of reach until he caught my look and sat quietly in his chair. Satisfied, I tore the towel not quite in half and gave a bit to him. He sighed at the ratty piece and wiped it at the mess on his skin. I dabbed my face randomly whilst I happily watched him struggle, realising I had no idea now where the pasta had landed on me.