Preparations for the Christmas party were in full swing. Connor took Nico with him to the party store for last minute decorations. Soon there was a pile of miscellaneous paper, tinsel, and hangings on the kitchen table, threatening to slide off at any moment. Connor even rummaged around the attic for old stuff they'd forgotten about.

Tomorrow would be dedicated to cleaning, and the day after would be spent cooking and decorating for the evening. That meant today was Connor and Nico's last glimpse of free time before the extended friends and family descended on the house.

Nico was predictably antsy. He no longer kept his phone with him. Connor guessed he was still receiving calls. He wished there was something he could do to ease Nico's mind. He'd tried insisting Nico sit back while Beatrice and Connor took care of party prep, but he'd refused.

"I want to help," Nico had said. "It's not like I have anything better to do."

Of course, once all of the party supplies had been collected, Beatrice ordered Connor and Nico to go have fun while she got some work done.

"It's a lovely evening," she said. "Connor, you should take Nico to see Old Town."

"Mom, he doesn't have to see—"

Beatrice turned to Nico. "There's not a lot to visit around here, but Old Town is definitely worth it. Lots of historical sites. Connor used to work part-time as a tour guide. He could show you around."

"Mom." Connor's cheeks heated. Giving Nico a tour of Old Town was too much like being an orientation leader again.

"I'm just saying it would be a nice date night," Beatrice said. "Way more fun than sitting around the house and stringing popcorn."

Connor sighed. Maybe going out wasn't such a bad idea. His previous attempts to get away from other people hadn't worked out, but tonight could be different. To Nico, he said, "Do you want to go?"

Nico nodded. "Sounds fun."

And so, about fifteen minutes later, Connor was parking on a narrow street in front of a used bookshop. Old Town was bathed in the buttery glow of streetlamps and white Christmas lights. They were reflected back in the large glass windows of the local businesses, turning the entire street into a sparkling wonderland.

Connor usually enjoyed the effect, but it was way too romantic for him and Nico. He would have to watch himself. This was reminding him of the wedding, and that was dangerous.

Quick, think of something normal to do. Connor headed for one of the many antique stores. "There's some cool stuff in here," he said. "We should check it out."

Nico was surprisingly open to the idea. He gravitated towards the weirdest stuff: ceramic cats, faded coffee mugs from other people's vacations, antebellum bottles and vials, a mint condition embalming kit from the forties…

"I actually kind of want it," Nico said, admiring it through its glass case. "It'll be a nice conversation piece in my future house."

"It'll only be a nice conversation piece if you invite people over. To be honest, they're not going to stay long when they see the embalming kit."

"You have to acknowledge death. So many people don't know how to prepare and don't set aside money for funerals, or they have no clue what to do when someone dies. All because they're scared to think about it."

"You know, I didn't think about it—duh—but funerals are expensive, huh?"

Nico made a scornful noise. "Yeah. They're almost a grift."

Then he launched into a description of the Forest Lawn Memorial Park. Connor was fascinated and honestly a bit creeped out. He found the whole idea interesting, but as soon as he heard a pause in Nico's monologue, he said, "Could you lighten up a little?"

"Am I freaking you out?"

Connor laughed nervously.

Nico nodded in the direction of some plastic bins. "Wanna look at those old Star Wars toys?"

Nico's style of changing the subject was blunt, but it did the job. Connor nodded, relieved. They spent the next thirty minutes rummaging through a mishmash of action figures. Connor let his eyes wander to Nico whenever Nico looked away.

After they'd exhausted the antique store, they wandered. Old Town consisted mostly of used bookstores, antique shops, independent restaurants, and historical buildings. Connor didn't say much, except to point out interesting landmarks. He threw in a couple ghost stories, which made Nico laugh.

"You're making that up," he said when Connor told him about the weeping woman who hung around the old churchyard.

"It's true," Connor said. "I've seen her. I was doing a ghost tour one summer, and she came out from behind that obelisk." He pointed to the monument in question. "Everyone was taking pictures of the church, so they didn't see her, but I did. I heard her, too."

Nico rolled his eyes. "How convenient."

"Do you not believe in ghosts?"

"I do, actually." Nico ran his fingers along the bars of the cast iron fence separating the sidewalk from the graveyard. "When I was younger, I could sense them sometimes."

Connor raised his eyebrows. "Are you serious?"

Nico nodded. "Sometimes when I was alone in the house, I'd walk through cold spots or get the feeling that someone else was there. Bianca…" He paused. "She didn't believe me at first. Then, one night, I woke up and there was someone standing at the end of my bed. I thought it was Bianca, or my mom, but I realized it wasn't them."

"How?" Connor whispered.

"She was dripping wet," Nico said. "And she was wearing an old-fashioned dress."

"As ghosts do."

Nico startled him by laughing. "Yeah. Anyway, I freaked out. Bianca came in when she heard me scream and turned on the light. The woman wasn't there anymore, but…" Now Nico's pause sounded as if it were for dramatic effect. "There was a damp patch on the floor where the woman was standing."

Connor shivered. "Now you're the one making stuff up."

"It's true." Nico took a step closer to Connor. "Bianca looked up people who'd died in our house, and it turned out a woman was drowned in her bathtub back in the nineteenth century."

Connor wasn't entirely sure whether his pulse spiking had to do with the ghost story or Nico's proximity. He should have taken a step back, but he was rooted to the spot.

Nico took another step forward. "Her husband thought she was cheating on him and murdered her. It was pretty sad. I felt bad for getting scared. It's not like she did anything wrong." He glanced over Connor's shoulder. "What did you say the weeping woman looked like again?"

"W-why?" Connor said, hating himself for stammering.

"Because there's a lady in a mourning dress behind you."

Connor whipped around. There was nothing.

Nico laughed. It did nothing to quell Connor's full body blush. "I didn't think it'd be that easy," he said through giggles.

"You got me," Connor said. He couldn't help the pride that snuck into his voice. "So, there's not a ghost behind me right now?"

Nico shook his head. "If there is a weeping woman haunting the graveyard, she's not around."

"Did you lie about the other ghost, too?"

"No, that really happened," Nico said. "Bianca said it was probably sleep paralysis and a leak. I think it's too much of a coincidence."

"I believe you," Connor said. He hesitated, then asked, "You want to be a mortician, even though you've seen a ghost?"

"I'm not scared of them. Ghosts are just people. It's kind of because I saw a ghost that I want to be a mortician. I kept thinking about how some people don't get to rest in peace and thought… you don't want to hear this."

Connor shook his head. "I do."

Nico tucked his hands into his pockets. "I thought I'd like to help people have a good death. Give the living some comfort." He let out a mirthless laugh. "I'm not into New Age bullshit or anything, but I don't believe people are ever truly gone. Because we remember them. That's why we have wakes and funerals. I think I saw that ghost because she wanted someone to remember her."

"That's really sweet, Nico," Connor said.

Nico's ears turned pink. "I guess. It's probably why I've never seen Bianca's spirit. She's kind of always in my head."

Connor threw caution to the wind and put his hand on Nico's shoulder. He gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I get it," he said. "If I was a ghost, I'd talk to you. No Ouija board necessary."

"I…" Nico shook his head slightly. "Never mind. I thought you didn't want to talk about morbid stuff."

"I think you and morbidity are a package deal, and I'm going to have to live with it," Connor joked. He let go of Nico and took a step back. "Hard not to talk about death when we're standing next to a graveyard."

Nico treated Connor to a brief smile. "You were the one who took us here to share ghost stories. Where do you want to go?"

"There's actually a really cool place around here," Connor said, setting off down the street.

Nico hurried to catch up. "What is it, though?"

"You'll see."

"An ice-skating rink?" Nico asked.

They were standing under a lighted pavilion with several other people, either spectating or skating. The rink was small, but it wasn't overcrowded. Connor thanked his good luck. Most people were at home this time of night.

"Do you know how to skate?" Connor asked.

"No," Nico said.

"Well, I do. It's super easy." Connor extended his arm. "And you can grab me if you're about to fall."

Nico looked from Connor to the rink a few times. He seemed to gather his nerves. "Alright," he said. "If I bust my ass, it's your fault."

"I will keep your ass intact." Connor tried hard not to snort and failed.

Nico rolled his eyes. "What are you, twelve?"

"Sorry, but you gotta admit it's a funny thing to say."

Nico did not look convinced.

Connor made sure to rent Nico a pair of black skates. It was the least he could do. Nico stared at them like he'd just been handed a bomb to defuse.

"They're skates, dude. You wear them like shoes."

"I know what they are. I just never… I've never worn them before." Nico sat down on one of the benches and put them on. He didn't seem to have any trouble lacing them up.

"So, have you ever been rollerblading?"

Nico shook his head.

"Normal skating? Like on a sidewalk."

"No. This is literally my first time."

"Then we'll take it nice and easy," Connor said.

Making it onto the ice was a struggle in and of itself. Connor was doing his best to be true to his word and not let Nico fall, but he couldn't do much when Nico wasn't letting go of the wall. He had to resort to prying his fingers off one by one while gently threatening him. (Nico did not respond kindly to this.) However, Connor eventually managed to get Nico standing beside him in the rink, hand clasped in his own.

"If I fall and you laugh," Nico said, wobbling slightly, "we are done."

"You're not going to fall. Look, even little kids are getting it." Connor pointed to a couple seven-year-olds circling the rink.

"That just makes it worse. I'm twenty-one and I have no clue what I'm doing."

Connor pushed off, pulling Nico behind him. Nico's grip tightened in a moment of pure panic. When he didn't immediately lose his footing, it relaxed slightly. Christmas music played over the tinny speakers—everything from goofy novelty songs to the classics to pop music covers of the classics. (Of course this included the dreaded "All I Want for Christmas is You," causing Nico to grit his teeth in pain.)

"I feel like people are staring," Nico said.

"No one's staring." Connor glanced around the rink just in case. Everyone seemed to be minding their own business. "We're just doing what everyone else is doing."

"We're holding hands."

"That's because you're too scared to let go."

"You're the one who—" Nico yelped as Connor suddenly released him. He grabbed Connor's arm, pulling them closer together and nearly toppling both of them.

Connor laughed.

"That was a dirty trick," Nico said.

"You're cute when you're mad." The words had left Connor's mouth before he had a chance to stop them. He cleared his throat and looked away.

Nico loosened his grip, shuffling to put a few more inches between them. He was clutching Connor's sleeve now instead of his arm.

"I—I was just playing," Connor said. "I meant that it's fun teasing you."

"I wish you wouldn't," Nico said under his breath. "It confuses me."

Connor wanted to ask what he meant by that, but Nico had already let go of him and glided back the wall. He worked his way over to the exit and climbed back onto solid ground. Connor cursed himself for saying anything at all. He didn't know exactly what he'd done wrong, but he'd killed the mood for sure.

The good thing about having to clean the entire house was that Connor did not have to talk to Nico that much. Beatrice had given Nico easy tasks, because despite his determination to help, she didn't want to burden their guest. Connor, on the other hand, had a lot more to do.

"No one's going to see what's under the couch cushions, Mom."

"They have to be cleaned eventually," Beatrice had said, shoving the hand vacuum at Connor. "Might as well get it out of the way."

Connor supposed he couldn't complain. As long as his hands were moving, he wasn't fixating on other things. Travis had not reached out since the wedding, except to reassure Beatrice that he and Katie would be at the party. Nico hadn't been treating him that differently since they'd left the rink. He seemed just as preoccupied as Connor but hadn't been particularly short tempered.

Connor was tempted to call or text Annabeth. She might know what to do in this situation. But then he remembered how much she'd disapproved of the scheme and thought better of it. She'd say something like, I told you so. This was a bad idea. She'd also tell him to call Travis first and explain everything, and Connor was never going to do that.

So, he excavated under the couch cushions. There was a lot dust, a few coins, and some of his mom's hairpins. Connor was a tad disappointed. He'd been secretly hoping for some real treasure. Still, the coins could go into the ceramic change bank. Connor scraped the collection together and carried it into the kitchen, where Nico was in charge of cleaning the counters.

Nico wasn't there. Connor blinked. He'd been sure Nico hadn't passed through the living room recently. The cleaning supplies were still sitting out. The back door was open an inch. Connor deposited the coins. He could hear Nico's voice faintly rising and falling outside.

I should mind my own business, Connor thought as he went to the door. Nico was in the backyard, pacing, his phone to his ear. He was speaking quietly, but Connor could hear the agitation in his voice.

As Nico pivoted, his gaze landed on Connor. Connor flinched, but Nico didn't seem angry at him per se. In fact, he caught a flash of fear in Nico's eyes. Nico said something curt into the phone and hung up.

"Was that…?" Connor felt he didn't need to ask at this point.

Nico clutched his phone in both hands. He looked at the ground, then back up. "We have a problem," he said. "My mom and my grandfather are here."