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“Slug bait,” Leo said. “They’re eating up the hostas.”

“Slug bait.” Nate wrote it on the pad by the coffee maker, and Leo watched him do it.

They were becoming very good at this, at being ‘normal.’ Living and not-living together.

It made Leo wonder, sometimes, if Nate still planned to exorcise him at the end of all of this.

He didn’t dare ask.

Jonah called on Saturday, while Nate was at the fence line pulling rotten posts and Leo was three feet away, supervising the hostas.

“Before you hang up,” Jonah said, “this isn’t me. This is Sophie. I’m just the messenger.”

“Hi, Sophie.”

“She’s not in the room, but she made me promise to ask you.”

“Ask me what?”

“Well.” Jonah paused. “Thomas is still single.”

Nate worked the post loose. “No.”

“That’s what I told her you’d say. She says, and I quote, ask him what his actual objection is.”

“My actual objection is that I live two hours away in a construction site.”

“She says Thomas likes a project.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“No, wait.” Jonah’s voice grew more serious. And Jonah was so rarely serious that his tone immediately made Nate cautious. “Caleb told everyone you’re fine, that the house is coming along and you’re eating. But none of us really bought it, and you keep making these videos. Mom’s stressed out, so now Sophie’s stressed out, and Sophie’s convinced the way to resolve the matter is to get you out of that house and on a date. So this is where we’re at.” He took a breath. “I’m afraid the matchmaking isn’t going to stop, little brother.”

This was ridiculous.

Utterly ridiculous.

“I’m seeing someone,” Nate said before he could think about what he was saying.

“You’re what?”

Nate stood there with one hand on the fence post and the phone at his ear. He should take it back. He should say that he was joking.

But Leo had turned to him. The ghost had heard what he’d said.

There was no way Nate could take it back now.

He resigned himself to his fate. “You heard me.”

“Since when? Who? You’re at that house all the time, where would you even—“ Jonah stopped.

He was figuring it out, putting things together, arriving at the conclusion that would make family chat explode later.

“I have to go,” Nate said. “Work to do.”

“Wait,” Jonah said. “Who are you⁠—”

“Bye, Jonah.” Nate hung up.