Page 33 of Shake Your Boo Thang

And I can’t help but think that Beau might be right and we did meet one another for a reason.

And if that’s the case, maybe I shouldn’t try to push him away.

CHAPTER

ELEVEN

Did I ever tell y’all about the time I danced with a ghost at my senior prom? Well, that’s a mighty fond memory of mine.

As a gay teenage ghost whisperer growing up in Mobile, Alabama, I didn’t exactly have a lot of gentlemen clamoring to be my date to prom. I know, it’s a cryin’ shame. I’m a delightful date, if I do say so myself. Now, I wasn’t gonna let any haters get me down, so I went with a couple of my fellow queer friends. We had us a little rainbow posse—and believe you me, there’s safety in numbers.

Anyhow, I’d seen a ghost around our school on occasion. A young woman from the 1950s, wearing a formal dress of some kind. But that night, she showed up and actually spoke to me for the first time. See, she’d died at her very own prom. Some kind of food. She ate something at the buffet that had nuts in it and that was the last thing she remembered. But she was still holding on to regret over not being able to dance a single dance at her prom. So I offered to make her wish come true.

Now, I’m not saying it’s easy to dance with a ghost. It was a clumsy mess, and I know I looked a fool to everyone who couldn’t see her. But it gave her the closure she needed and she thanked me so sweetly before she moved on. To this day, it’s still a memory I cherish.

—Beau’s Boos and Beyond, Episode 24

Beau

When Callum returns from seeing Miz Elizabeth off, the expression on his face is one I can’t quite read.

“Is everything all right, darlin’?” I ask him softly.

He clears his throat and flushes a little. “Aye, everything’s fine.”

“So how long do you think it might take her to get the information?”

“Maybe a day or two, possibly longer, depending on how hard it is for her to track it down based on what we can provide her and what other obligations she has on her plate at work.”

Callum glances at the time on his phone. “I need to get going. I’ve got a meeting with the owner of Salon de Spin to update her on my progress.” He shoots me an apologetic look. “I think it’d be better for you not to join me until I let her know I’ve brought you on board to help out.”

I smile. “No problem. I understand.” I muster my resolve and go for broke. “But, since it’s gonna take Miz Elizabeth a while to track down what we need, what do you say to a date this evening? Just you and me.”

For a moment, Callum looks like a deer in headlights.

Then he manages to shake it off and heaves a sigh of capitulation. “Fine, but I’m not promising anything beyond that. We clear on that?”

“Of course, sugar. We’re gonna have a grand time, just the two of us.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” he mutters.

I start humming Miley Cyrus’s “Wrecking Ball.”

We leave the pub and make plans for Callum to pick me up at the B&B around six o’clock and then decide what we should do.

I stroll at a leisurely pace and end up doing some window shopping and browsing in a couple of used bookstores on my way back to the B&B. When I return, my lovely host offers to serve me afternoon tea, but I politely decline, telling her I want to take a little nap and then freshen up for my evening plans.

She seems tickled pink that I’ve got a date and offers me plenty of words of encouragement.

When she toddles off to watch her afternoon shows on the telly, as she calls it, I head up to my room and close the door.

I’m not entirely surprised when I see a familiar person—or rather, spirit—standing in the corner of the room.

I sit down on the bed and cross my arms. “You know I can see you. Why don’t you just tell me what you want?”

The man stares at me for a long while. There are dark circles under his eyes, and his face is rather gaunt. My best guess is that he’s in his late thirties, and the beanie, pajamas, and knit sweater he’s wearing suggest he had been sick toward the end of his life.

“Who are you?” I ask him gently.