Seeing Double

The Family Business - Part 1

Getting everyone at the dinner table should not be this much of a challenge. She'd made her mother's favorite dish- chicken enchiladas with salsa verde- and bought her dad's favorite dessert: fudge.

Jazz set the table and washed the pots and pans, informed everyone days in advance, and even agreed to take a lesson on ghosts while they ate.

So where the hell were her parents?

Danny was frowning at the salsa. "What's this green goop?"

"It's salsa verde," Jazz said.

"Verde?"

"It's Spanish for green."

"Appropriate."

Jazz drummed her fingers on the table. "It's going to get cold!"

"I think they're almost done?"

She stood up, ready to storm into the basement and cause a scene, but finally their parents came up the stairs laughing and covered in green goop of their own.

"Sorry Jazzy-cakes, had a bit of an accident," Dad said. "Just need a quick hosing down!"

"We'll be ready in a minute dear," Mom said. "The food smells delicious."

Jazz sighed and resigned herself to re-heating everything in the microwave.

When they were finally seated around the table she slapped on a smile and poured the salsa on everyone's enchiladas.

Well, except for Danny's.

"Hey, why don't I get any?"

"It's too spicy for you," Jazz said. "Trust me, you hate it."

They'd all gotten used to the little gaps in Danny's memory by now. He frowned, but nodded. Then Dad started in on the promised lecture, going into detail about their latest capture and what they'd learned about it.

And for a second she could almost pretend they were a family. Not a normal one by any means, but together. Whole.

"Of course, these animal ghosts aren't as stable as the humanoid ones," Mom interrupted with a pointed look at Danny. "But they're still a great source of data."

"Aw, c'mon Mads," Dad laughed. "We'll get him again, it's just a matter of time!"

The ghost boy was their favorite obsession. It was a sore point that Danny had apparently let the ghost go after they'd finally captured it.

Jazz bit her lip and tried to gauge Danny's reaction to their mother's passive aggressive antagonism, but he was staring resolutely at his enchilada. Carefully chewing.

"Not to dis your cooking or anything," Danny said. "But this tastes really plain. Can I take a bite out of one of yours? Just to taste the sauce."

"No, Danny." Jazz tried to project a soft hearted and apologetic tone, but this attempt was contradicted by the sharp scrape of her fork as she accidentally stabbed one of her enchiladas too hard.

She winced. A piece of chicken fell out of the wrapping. "Danny, it's better if you don't taste it." She put her dang fork down and hoped her smile didn't look condescending. "Seriously, you'll hate it."

"I just want to taste it for myself."

"We know you best, honey," Mom interjected.

"Just like we know ghosts best," she couldn't help but add and Jazz watched Danny's jaw clench.

There was no salvaging this.

Glaring at them, Danny picked up the bowl of verde sauce and dumped its contents on his enchiladas. Jazz sighed.