Free Mortal Ghost by L. Lee Lowe Page B

their circle. ‘A new friend. He’ll be staying the night.’
    Sarah’s dad nodded as if this were the most natural thing in the world and extended his hand. Jesse wasn’t used to such courtesy and took a second to hold out his own. Finn noticed his hesitation.
    ‘ Sorry, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. I travel so much that I’ve grown accustomed to greeting people this way.’ His handshake was firm and welcoming. ‘Pleased to meet you.’
    ‘ My pleasure, sir,’ Jesse said, touched by the man’s attempt to put him at ease. A handshake was surely normal in the kind of society the Andersens frequented.
    Sarah gawped. ‘ Sir? ’
    Her father laughed. ‘Now where did you find him, Sarah? I haven’t been called sir by anyone not hoping for a tip since my military days.’
    ‘ I didn’t know you’d served in the army,’ Sarah said.
    ‘ I didn’t,’ Finn said.
    They all laughed. Finn’s face was deeply tanned, his tonsure shaggy, his beard a rich redgold. When he laughed, everything about him laughed—his bright blue eyes, his gap teeth, his belly. He was a large—a very large—man who didn’t seem to mind the roll of fat that drooped over his jeans. Jesse wondered whose clothes they’d lent him. Obviously not Finn’s.
    ‘ You’re thinner,’ Sarah said, jabbing her finger at her father’s stomach.
    ‘ Yeah, short rations and lots of hiking will do that to you.’ He glanced at the kitchen table. ‘Quiche. Quiche. And chocolate mousse. Thank god I’m home before I starved to death.’
    He went to the sink to wash his hands, then cut himself a thick wedge and took a bite. He closed his eyes dramatically, smacked his lips, sighed.
    ‘ If they had tasted that at Sparta, they wouldn’t have bothered with Helen.’ He grinned wickedly at his wife. ‘Well, not till they’d eaten their fill.’
    Meg blushed.
    Jesse exchanged glances with Sarah. She wasn’t even remotely bothered. Was this the way it could be? People spending years—a lifetime—together?
    ‘ Finn, cut it out. You’re too old for jokes like that,’ Sarah said. ‘You’re embarrassing Jesse.’
    ‘ Oh ho, my girl, you’re never too old for foreplay,’ Finn said.
    Now it was Sarah’s turn to blush. To cover up her discomfiture, she began loading the dishwasher, but not before shooting a look at Jesse which clearly said : parents!
    ‘ It’s fine,’ Jesse said, a bit shyly.
    Finn licked his fingers. ‘Good,’ he said to Jesse. ‘I’m glad to find there’s someone your age who doesn’t think an untimely frost lies upon everyone over thirty.’
    ‘ Shakespeare’s Capulet,’ Jesse said with a grin.
    ‘ An educated man!’
    Finn spoke with a trace of accent which Jesse tried and failed to place—not precisely American, certainly not Australian, but what?
    ‘ So, Jesse,’ Finn said, going to the fridge and peering in, ‘is this your dog or have my wife and daughter been busy with a new project?’
    Jesse sat down at his place. He shrugged in resignation. ‘Mine. Sort of.’
    ‘ Sort of?’
    Meg rummaged in a cupboard and brought out a bottle of wine. She added wineglasses to the clutter on the table, a corkscrew. Finn picked up the bottle and scrutinised the label, then tugged his beard.
    ‘ A good red,’ he said. ‘Another gift from a patient?’
    ‘ Patient?’ Jesse asked.
    ‘ Hasn’t Sarah told you?’ Finn asked. ‘Meg’s nearly finished her training at the local loony bin.’
    ‘ Finn!’
    ‘ All right, all right. Specialist registrar at our psychiatric hospital.’
    ‘ A psychiatrist?’ asked Jesse, appalled.
    ‘ Yes, for kids and teens,’ Finn said. ‘Bloody tough work, too. With Sarah growing up and my being away so much, Meg decided she’d stayed home long enough. It hasn’t always been easy, but it’s what she loves.’
    Finn decanted the wine and poured them all a glass. ‘A toast,’ he said, holding his up to the light. ‘To home and family and friends.’
    ‘ I don’t