“What happened?” she asked.
Her grandmother turned to her grandfather, and Gus answered. “A thief trying to break in, baby. But the police got him. We’re fine.”
“Back to bed, child!” her grandmother said. She smiled to lighten the sternness of her words. “It’s late. Or early. Whichever. Time for young’uns to be asleep! What would your parents say about the way we keep you up?”
“Mom and Dad wouldn’t mind. Mom always says you’re the best. She said that if you and Gus weren’t so wonderful, she’d never be able to travel with Dad as much as she does. Not many kids are so lucky. I get to stay with you.” Her father worked for a major tech company and traveled frequently. She had a room at the tavern with almost as much stuff in it as her room in the house on Chippewa Square.
“Be that as it may!” her grandmother began. “I want you back in your bed. It’s a school night.”
Abby gave her grandfather a wide-eyed look. He was an easier mark than her grandmother. She couldn’t possibly go back to bed—alone. Not yet.
“Come on down. We’ll have a cup of tea, and then we’ll go back to bed. How’s that?”
She managed to nod. And to come running the rest of the way down the stairs.
“Abigail Anderson!” Brenda said sternly. “I told you not to run around barefoot! Glasses do break, my darling, and even when we clean up, you can’t be sure we get all the little slivers.”
“Leave her be right now, Brenda,” Gus suggested.
Brenda wagged a finger at her. “Tonight. Just tonight. You follow the tavern rules—my rules, young lady—or you don’t stay here anymore!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Abby said.
Brenda spun on Gus. “And you! Don’t go putting a shot of whiskey in her tea to calm her down, do you hear me? She’s barely ten.”
“Oh, Brenda, it’s what our parents did for us—”
“And nowadays, it’s considered child abuse. You two behave. I’m going back up.”
She caught Abby’s chin and gave her a kiss on the cheek before she went up the winding staircase.
Gus winked at Abby. “Come into the kitchen,” he said. “We’ll brew some tea.”
In the tavern’s large, modernized kitchen, she sat on a stool and watched Gus place the kettle on a burner and bring out the makings for tea. There was a bottle of whiskey on one of the top shelves. He hesitated, and then shrugged. “One little nip. Cured me of colds, stubbed toes and a broken heart, and I had a wonderful mother, God bless her!” He crossed himself and looked upward. “Now, think you’ll be able to sleep after this?”
She nodded enthusiastically. A few minutes later, he’d made tea—with a “nip” of whiskey in it for the two of them. He brought the cups out front and they sat together beneath the figureheads and other artifacts. She cherished these occasions with him; there weren’t many.
“So, why are you scared?”
“You weren’t there,” she said.
He ruffled her hair. “I wasn’t gone. I’d die before I’d leave you, munchkin, you know that.”
She nodded again and sipped her tea. It was sweet and good with a lot of milk and sugar. Whatever else was in it, she couldn’t tell.
“Something’s bothering you,” he said.
“Well, Gus, of course!” she said. She didn’t know why she called him Gus, since she called her grandmother Nana.
He sighed and turned to her and stroked her face. “A bad man was trying to break in. But we heard him...saw him. Called the police, they came right away and now all is well.”
She bit her lip. She couldn’t get rid of the image of the dead pirate watching her grandparents through the door. Watching her.
“What is it?” Gus persisted.
“How did you know someone was trying to break in, Gus?” she asked him.
He looked away from her quickly. “Ah, just heard him.”
“Gus...”
He studied her, as if trying to read her mind. She was afraid to speak, afraid to say she’d seen a ghost. She was almost ten, and she didn’t want him thinking she was a scaredy-cat baby. Or worse—having mental problems. Benny Adkins had acted weird at school, and they’d taken him out and sent him to some kind of special home for children.
She didn’t have to speak. Gus sipped his tea thoughtfully. Eventually he said, “You saw old Blue, didn’t you?”
Her heart thumped. “What?”
“I guess I was about your age when I saw him for the first time,” Gus said. “Where was he?”
“Blue?” she whispered.
Something about the somber tenderness in her grandfather’s eyes made her believe it was going to be all right. She could admit to him what she’d seen.