Page 116 of Meet Cute Reboot

“I was that loud?”

“Yes.”

I bite my lip.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure the neighbors are at church. Or they need to go to church and repent after hearing your tirade.”

I was so livid I can’t even remember what I said. It was enough to make Macy cry. Not one of my best looks either. “What did you say to Macy?”

“She did most of the talking. She loosely filled me in on the details.”

“Such as?”

“Such as how generous you’ve been to take care of her and her son for the last several months.”

I nod.

“But she didn’t tell me how Betsy factors into this equation.”

“Betsy is my ghost. She’s the one opening the cabinet door. Or was opening it. I guess I solved that problem.”

We ponder my wreckage for a moment. Peaks and valleys of splintered wood litter the floor, just waiting to steal a foot or slice someone’s leg open. Sharp pieces of broken ceramic lie about to finish the job.

“You didn’t think maybe you should have emptied the cabinets first?”

I shrug. “I was in a hurry.”

“What do you supposed Betsy will do now that her cabinet is gone?”

Shoot. I hadn’t thought of that. “Do you think she’s mad?”

“Probably.”

“Great.”

“Yeah. You’re on your own with her, son. I don’t do ghosts.”

“Thanks.”

Mom raises to her tiptoes and kisses me on the cheek. “I’m in the guest house if you need me.”

I reach around her tiny waist and give her a quick hug. “This was all going to be demoed in a couple weeks anyway.”

“You keep telling yourself that.”

“You’re not going to help me clean it up?”

She flashes me a smile that says “no” and then she picks her way through the damage and heads toward the back door.

“By the way,” I say, “I have kittens.”

“You know I hate pets.”

“They’re cute.”

“I’m sure they are, but I’m also sure I’m probably allergic. Goodbye, son.”

The back door slams shut. I’m alone again. Just me, the sledgehammer, and piles of weaponized wood.