Ghouls Night Out Read Online Free PDF Page A

including housework!”
    “Amen!” said Gina, as we clinked our long necks.
    The beer tasted good, and I tried to look on the bright side. A couple of these and I was out of here.
    Gina and Darlene put their heads together, sizing up all the different men at the bar, while Debbie turned her blond head toward me.
    “Do you think you’ll ever get married, Nicki?” She took another swig of her beer while she waited for my answer.
    I hesitated, and that seemed answer enough for her.
    “Probably not, hm? Why should you? You’ve got your own business, your own house…” Her voice trailed off, and she took another sip. “You don’t need a man to take care of you.”
    “See what I mean?” Michelle’s voice made me jump. She slid into the empty seat beside Debbie, watching her friend closely. I couldn’t help but notice she was dry again, looking much the way she had when I’d first seen her in the bridal shop.
    Debbie, of course, didn’t see her.
    “She doesn’t want to get married—she’s just doing it because she doesn’t think she has a choice,” Michelle said.
    “Everybody has a choice about whether or not to get married,” I said.
    Debbie, thinking I was talking to her, answered, “I know. But I love Dale—really I do.” Her voice sounded a little wistful, and she didn’t meet my eye.
    “Methinks she doth protest too much,” said Michelle. She leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms.
    I ignored the dead girl, and spoke to the live one.
    “You don’t have to go through with it if you don’t want to, Debbie,” I said softly.
    Debbie shrugged. “You sound like my friend Michelle.”
    “Wasn’t Michelle supposed to be in your wedding?”
    Debbie shot me a guilty look. “Well, yeah. But she got mad at me and drove home to Augusta. She hasn’t returned any of my calls.”
    “She’s been calling?” Michelle sat up.
    “I think she’s just jealous,” Debbie went on. “She claims she never liked Dale, but I think she has a crush on him.”
    Michelle gave a gasp of outrage, but Debbie didn’t hear it.
    “Why would you say a thing like that, Debbie?” Michelle seemed to have momentarily forgotten that Debbie couldn’t see or hear her.
    “Um, why would you say a thing like that?” I asked, on Michelle’s behalf.
    Debbie took another swig of her beer. “I don’t know—just the way she looks at him sometimes. Michelle doesn’t seem to have a lot of luck with guys. She goes for the flashy type, frat boys with money or football jocks with big shoulders and big egos. A couple of dates, and then they dump her. Dale’s not flashy, but he’s solid.”
    “Oh, he’s solid all right.” Michelle was disgusted by Debbie’s assessment. “About as solid as a block of wood.” She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “And just as exciting.”
    “I think in her heart she wants a guy like Dale.” Debbie looked thoughtful, staring down at the battered tabletop, marred by years of spilled beer and cigarette burns. “Somebody to depend on. Somebody to grow old with.” She shrugged, toying with the label on herbeer bottle. “Dale’s not perfect, but who is? Nobody’s perfect.”
    The jukebox seemed to be eavesdropping on our conversation, because right then Tammy Wynette started singing “Stand By Your Man”—an annoying song I’d always hated. If my man ever cheated on me, I wouldn’t be standing by him; I’d be standing on him, preferably while wearing a very sharp stiletto heel.
    “Michelle’s always been my best friend,” Debbie said. “I can’t believe she’s not here to help me celebrate.” Her lower lip quivered as she raised the bottle of beer again. After a few healthy swallows, she set it down empty.
    “I—I think I need to tell you something, Debbie.” I had no idea how I was supposed to explain to my cousin how I knew her best friend was dead, but things couldn’t go on like this.
    “No.” Michelle interrupted me. She leaned toward me, shaking her