The Haunted Widow
Copyright © 2026 by OmegaPet-58
Chapter 3: Joanne
“Hello? Lacie?”
“Oh, yeah, caller ID. Joanne, can I interest you in a home-cooked meal at my place?”
“Always. I’ve been meaning to check in on you this week. How are you doing?”
“Oh, I’m OK...”
“You don’t sou— How about tomorrow night?”
“That’s great. I’m making pasta with meat sauce, so can you pick up some Chianti?”
“Of course, Lacie. My mouth is already watering. See you tomorrow night. Bye.”
Joanne rang the doorbell and waited. Noticing the camera, she brandished the bottle of Chianti with a big smile on her face, then set it down on the porch so her hands were free. When the door swung open, she embraced Lacie and hugged her for a little longer than usual.
“Joanne, you’re going to start me sniffling unless you let me go.”
“Sniffle away, bestie. You’re allowed.”
“No, not in front of Billy. He feels my moods. If he sees me cry, it frightens him.”
“OK, that makes sense.” Joanne let go and picked up the bottle. “Look, I bought some Cecchi Chianti imported from Italy. It will be perfect with ... God! That smells wonderful! Let’s go inside and you can tell me what you made.”
Joanne hung her coat on the pegs inside the door and followed Lacie into the kitchen. Billy was in his high chair happily playing with some of the pasta she had cooked.
“Those spiral corkscrew noodles, what are they called?”
“They’re fusilli. As you can see, they’re Billy’s favorite. As for what you’re smelling, I made a tomato sauce with Italian sausage and lean ground beef. And we’re having vanilla gelato for dessert.”
“Lacie, you are a kitchen goddess. I’m ready to move in; just say the word!”
Lacie held out her hand with thumb and forefinger nearly touching. “I’m about this far from inviting you. I’ll tell you why after we eat, and I’ve had a full glass or two of wine.”
After dinner, Joanne tackled the dishes while Lacie took her son up for a quick bath. Unsurprisingly, tomato sauce and a two-year-old are a messy combination. Once Billy was bathed and changed into his pull-up, “Aunt Jo” came up to the nursery to help tuck him in.
Back downstairs, the women sat on the couch with the remaining Chianti.
“All right, Lacie. What is it you want to tell me?”
“The reason I said I was thinking of having you move in here with us? Either I’m losing my mind, or I’m being haunted.”
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