Who was Lila talking about? Was there an anonymous father out there, too? Stood to reason. Maybe Kelly and I were about to get a visit from our long-lost sperm donor daddy. Oh, goody ... more relatives.

This situation just seemed to keep getting worse. I had a sister now, a true, flesh and blood sister-who I didn't know at all. And a birth mother who was haunting me. Now I was supposed to be worried about some guy showing up and telling lies. Hardly your typical family reunion.

I sighed, thoughts returning to Kelly. She was married to my boyfriend, and given her reaction to my pink and blue paisley outfit, obviously considered "fashion" a dirty word. The only things my sister and I had in common were that we both saw dead people, and we'd both slept with Joe.

She sees dead people, too.

I didn't think Kelly knew it yet. She'd seemed to accept Albert's visit at face value-a quick visit from one of my friends. Not that Albert was ever truly my friend. He'd done me a favor once, but only because it served his own purpose. I had no hard feelings, though, and I was glad to know that he didn't have any either.

I hoped he and Granny Julep were at peace now, together in the Light.

Kelly was in for some surprises. I couldn't help but remember how bewildering it was to wake up in the hospital to a whole new reality. It had been hard to accept that nobody saw the little Yiddish grandmother beside my bed except me.

But I'd accepted it, and dealt with it, even if dealing with it wasn't easy.

I popped in a Siouxsie and the Banshees CD, tired of silence and introspection. But while my fingers automatically tapped out the beat on the steering wheel, my mind was still working.

Before I reached the streets leading to my Ansley Park neighborhood, I'd decided to be bold. There was no way around this situation with Kelly except straight through it. No matter what she thought of me, and no matter what I thought of her, we needed to deal.

So I went home and used a little trick I'd taught myself long ago. Look like a million bucks, feel like a million bucks.

Whatever the situation was, there was an outfit for it, whether Kelly thought so or not.

Even though I'd already gotten dressed once that morning, I did it again. Only when my bedroom resembled the frenzied remains of a sale at Bloomingdale's was I satisfied; low-slung jeans embroidered down one leg with black thread, paired with a black off-the-shoulder blouse, sexy yet not overdone. The jeans looked great with stilettoed boots.

Then I spiked my hair a little, playing with the pink streaks until they were just the way I liked them. I redid my makeup, heavy on the eyeliner and mascara, and used my favorite shade of dark red lipstick.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror one final time. If Kelly and I were going to deal, then it was time to get real. This was me-"glam" and all. She could take me or leave me.

So for the third time in three days, I went to the hospital to see my sister.

"Hey." The television was off today, and Kelly was reading.

"Hey," she answered. Her eyes were wary.

I walked in and took a seat in the chair next to the bed, crossing my legs and resting my black velvet Rosenfeld bag in my lap. "I've been thinking about what you said yesterday, and you have every reason in the world to feel bitchy. You've been through a lot." Despite my sense of resolve, I wasn't ready to blurt out to Kelly that she and I could see the dead. I doubted she'd believe me, and if her experience was going to be anything like mine, she'd figure it out sooner or later anyway. I took a deep breath. "I'm really sorry about what happened to Lila. I know it has to hurt."

"Peaches," Kelly said, laying down her book. "She wanted us to call her Peaches."

"Okay, Peaches." Don't get sidetracked, Styx. "What I'm trying to say is I'm sorry she's gone. You barely had a chance to get to know her, and I didn't know her at all." Not entirely true, but there was no need to go into that yet. "Let's not miss the chance to get to know each other."

The swelling on the side of Kelly's face had gone down, but she still looked like someone had used her for a punching bag. Her hair was clean and straight, brushed neatly behind her ears.

She looked me in the eye, searching for the truth, and I met her gaze evenly.

"The police came to see me again this morning." Hers statement threw me off. "They wanted to know if Peaches had any relatives or friends that needed to be notified. She didn't have any identification-they haven't been able to find any other next-of-kin."

"Does she have any?" Despite the way Kelly'd brushed off my apology, I was curious.

"Not that I know of. She must have some friends at the insurance company where she worked. I told them about that. But Peaches lived alone. Never married, no other kids. No family, except for us."

The way Kelly said "us" told me something. Suddenly certain what she was getting at, I answered, "Then I guess we'll have to make the funeral arrangements for her, won't we?" It was stupid of me not to have considered this sooner. I had no problem with laying the dead to rest with all the pomp and ceremony they deserved-especially if it helped them stay that way.

Kelly blinked a couple of times, then looked away.

"I don't have any money," she murmured. "I used the last of it on my plane ticket." She was staring at the crappy curtains again. "I was going to stay with Peaches in Savannah, and get a job there."

I looked at the bandages on Kelly's legs and the mottling of bruises on her arms and face. A job was a long way off.

"You can pay me back for your half of the funeral expenses when you're back on your feet." Fair was fair, and I had the distinct feeling she didn't want my charity.

"Why?" Kelly was looking at me again. "Why would you do that? Feeling sorry for the ugly duckling loser who's been dumped on your doorstep?"

That set me back. Kelly obviously had her own demons... and I was beginning to wonder just how well they were gonna get along with mine.

"No," I said, very calmly. "I'm doing it because it's the right thing to do." And I meant it, every word. Maybe I was getting the hang of this "do unto others" thing, after all.

"And you're not ugly. Or a loser." Although the loser part remained to be seen.

In a crash course on mental skydiving, I took the biggest plunge of all.

"Maybe you should come stay with me when you're discharged from the hospital. I have an extra room."

Kelly's lower lip quivered, just once. "And what about Joe?"

"What about him?" If I didn't offer her a place to stay, my sweet Dr. Do Good would probably end up taking her in himself, and then where would I be? Uh-uh. No, thank you. "Joe told me you'd agreed to sign the divorce papers. We're all grown-ups, aren't we?" I shrugged, nonchalant on the outside but hoping I wouldn't throw up the granola bar I'd eaten on the drive over. "Joe and I are together now. I'm cool with it, and yesterday you said you were, too. Let's get past that."

Besides, I'd look awful in lavender taffeta.

"You surprise me," Kelly said. She didn't looked surprised as much as suspicious. "If I were you, I'd be a little worried."

"About what?" If I was, I wasn't gonna admit it just for her benefit.

"About your boyfriend's soon-to-be-ex-wife showing up and stealing him away from you."

This chick's self-esteem bounced up and down like a rubber ball. I leaned in, tired of playing games. "If that's your plan, Kelly, you're going to be disappointed."

She said nothing, so I added, "If, on the other hand, you're being a bitch again just to piss me off, then congratulations. That particular plan worked." I stood, ready to walk out.

"Wait." Kelly reached out, then let her hand drop, curling her fingers tight around the book. "You're right, I'm doing it again. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, you are." I let that statement stand on its own.

Kelly flushed, face reddening. She waited a couple of heartbeats, and then I saw her chin go up. It was a gesture I recognized, because it was one of mine. "You were being nice," she said, "and the least I can do is return the favor. I'd like to come stay with you after I'm discharged, at least for a little while. It'll be a good way to get to know each other."

If we don't kill each other first.

"Good. It's settled. I'll come back tomorrow and we'll talk about the arrangements for Li-" I caught myself. "-for Peaches."

"That would be nice."

I smiled at her, and she smiled back. I couldn't help but wonder which one of us was faking it more.

CHAPTER 4.

Is that rigor mortis or are you just happy to see me?

Try as I might, I couldn't get the stupid funeral jokes I'd heard the night before out of my mind. The man with the clammy handshake who'd introduced himself as Mr. Bates was droning on about the benefits of mahogany caskets over oak, or perhaps we'd like to consider cremation?

He got where he is the old-fashioned way ... he urned it.

"No, our mother would've preferred burial. Can you show us some casket choices? Only the high end ones, of course."

I didn't bother to ask how Kelly could've possibly known Lila's preferences in funeral arrangements. As it was, I'd been surprised when she asked to use this particular mortuary, but she'd seen an ad in the newspaper, and I had no desire to revisit the place where my parents' funeral had been held. Bad memories.

"Your mother would no doubt be pleased by your devotion to her memory." Mr. Bates could barely hide the gleam in his eye as he pulled out a thick leather book with the words Going in Style embossed on the cover. He reminded me of a cadaver himself with that pale skin and slicked-back hair. You'd think a guy who made the kind of money he probably did could afford a better suit.

I occupied myself with scanning the yellowed certificates on the wall and the dusty silk flower arrangements on the credenza behind the funeral director's desk. Forest Lawn Mortuary needed a new cleaning lady.

"The one with the pink satin lining is nice. What do you think, Nicki?" Kelly shoved the book under my nose and pointed to a particularly hideous white coffin with a Pepto-Bismol colored interior.

I wouldn't be caught dead in that thing.

"You choose, Kelly. You knew her better than I did."

Mr. Bates gave me an oily smile as Kelly flipped to the next page.

"What about these bronze or copper ones? They must last forever."

"Oh, they do." The funeral home director began to look positively cheerful. He reached across the desk and pointed to one with a white velvet interior. "We even offer vacuum sealing on this particular model."

I couldn't help myself. "Vacuum sealing? We're talking about a person here, not strawberry jam."

That comment earned me a dirty look from Kelly, and a raised eyebrow from Mr. Bates.

Kelly went back to looking at casket pictures while I contemplated a chip in my toenail polish. Time for a pedicure.

"It says the Queen Anne model is made of African mahogany," she said. "Is there a difference between that and regular mahogany?"

The funeral director opened his mouth, but I beat him to it.

"Yeah. About a thousand dollars."

Bates didn't bat an eye, but Kelly slammed the book shut, giving me a glare. "Mr. Bates, could you give us some privacy for a moment?"

"Of course." He rose from his seat, carefully avoiding looking at me. "Take all the time you need. I need to see about the lighting in the Serenity Chapel. We're hosting a rather large visitation this afternoon."

How many dead people does it take to change a lightbulb? None. They're always in the dark.

This was all Evan's fault. If he and Butch hadn't taken me out for sushi last night, I wouldn't be sitting here torn between a lingering sake headache and an urge to giggle.

The door shut behind cadaver-man, and Kelly burst out, "What's your problem? We agreed I'd pay you back for half the funeral expenses once I'm on my feet."

I stifled a grin. Considering that Kelly was sitting in a wheelchair, both ankles bandaged, that event was hardly likely anytime soon.

"This is funny to you?" Two red spots bloomed in her cheeks.

Kelly didn't know me well enough yet to realize that I'd rather laugh than cry any day.

"Our mother is dead. Show some respect," she snapped.

The sake headache took over, making me cranky.

"You mean like the respect she showed us when she put us up for adoption?" Okay, so I had some lingering resentment about being given away like an unwanted puppy. "And quit calling her 'our mother.' My mother's name was Emily Styx. She was the one who was there for me, and I loved her, and I buried both my parents according to their wishes."

Kelly's eyes filled with tears. "At least you had parents."

A stab of guilt, like a needle prick to my conscience. Just because I knew that Lila was doing just fine in the afterlife didn't mean I had to come off as such a bitch.

I closed my eyes and blew out a breath, exasperated with myself. "I'm sorry. I stayed out too late last night and I have a headache. Let's just pick something and get out of here, okay?"

"I don't understand you." Kelly obviously wasn't ready to cut me any slack. "This is really hard for me. It's like you want me to believe that you're a vain, selfish person without a heart."

Not entirely true. I had a heart, but it didn't work too well-heart failure and the residual side effects were what got me into this fix to begin with.

Do unto others, Styx.

"Look, I said I'm sorry. It's been a really weird summer."

Died, came back to life-check.

Nagging ghosts, voodoo queens, zombies, new love, old baggage-check.

A twin sister I never knew and a biological mother I never would-still working on it.

"Weird" was an understatement.

I glanced over and felt even guiltier. Kelly had just gotten out of the hospital.

"I'm not a heartless person," I said. Her face was expressionless, so I ventured a little joke. "Vain, maybe, but not heartless."

That didn't work, so I tried again. "Evan would tell me my 'bitchy slip' is showing."