The Dinner

I was cooking dinner for myself and Zoey when Tristan appeared beside me, terrified that the laptop he was watching some cooking show on had broken down. Previously, he didn't care about technology, but since he discovered that he can get to know it a little better thanks to us, he used it. He didn't have to go around people's houses and watch what was on TV when he could ask me to put something on. But sometimes he forgot that my laptop might be dead and panicked because the screen went black. He was mad that he wouldn't see who would win the episode with fruity desserts.

I wiped my hands on a towel and turned the device back on. Ghost breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the program stopped at the very moment when the laptop shut down. Tristan sat back on the bed, ready for me to hit the play button. I smiled, sometimes he was like an excited child who had been transported back in time, although theoretically, he was even spiritually older than Ronald. However, I suspected that Tristan never wanted to grow old mentally, Judy's husband succeeded because he was with her all the time, and he became a mentally old man. They both died in their twenties, except Tristan had become a ghost a hundred years earlier, but Ronald was the one he ran to for advice about me. I laughed when I heard about it.

"What's their task?" I asked.

"Fruit dessert," the excited ghost replied without taking his eyes off the screen.

"Who are you rooting for?"

"This one here." His favorite, a middle-aged woman, just showed up on the screen. "She does not plan like others, her pastries are aesthetic, nice, and tasty. She hasn't won any challenge yet but is always in the lead. I suspect this self-centered bastard will win today anyway." This time he pointed at some youngster with a smirk, as if he was sure of victory. "He's jury's pupil," he muttered dissatisfied. "But the one with the colored hair might be a dark horse..."

He made a focused face, mumbling to himself as he analyzed the suggestions that the participants in the culinary competitions presented. I kissed the top of his head, he looked at me surprised but smiled happily. All such romantic, unexpected gestures came more from him, but sometimes I felt like he didn't show enough of how much he meant to me.

"Then you tell me who won. After this episode, go call Zoey for dinner," I said as I left the room.

Half an hour later I was waiting in the kitchen with the table set. Zoey once suggested that we should add a third chair and an empty plate for Tristan anyway when the three of us were eating. My boyfriend was always hanging around, but he was grateful for that, he liked to pretend he was eating with us. Then I confessed to my friend that I was mad that I hadn't thought of it myself. The ghost came first and sat down at the table with an uneasy expression.

"Zoey was on the phone with someone and she was acting weird," he said.

"What do you mean?" I asked curiously. "She giggled." His tone was deadly serious. "She always has a cute or loud laugh, but never giggles."

"That's right," I told him. “I don't remember it happening to her, even when we were teenagers. She's probably talking to her new boyfriend." I shrugged but Tristan looked concerned. "What's the problem? Are you worried about her?"

"I'll take a very good look at him."