Liz couldn't believe Michael could be so insensitive. Even after everything they'd been through together, after everything she'd already seen him do.

"Look," Michael said, "it's not like I'm going to run out on you. If you need help… you know, a place to crash for a couple days, somebody to help subdue your mom till the nuthouse people can get there… I'll be there for you."

"Gee," Liz said sarcastically, "that's awfully sweet of you."

Michael shook his head in disgust. "There's about a million guys out there who wouldn't offer to help you subdue your mom without hurting her."

The sad part was, Liz realized, Michael was right. She and Maria took their orders out to their respective tables.

Several minutes passed as she gathered new orders and refilled drinks. One of the things that bothered her most, Liz admitted, was that Max was out there somewhere and didn't even have a clue that she was having trouble with her mom.

Only a short while later, after a flurry of drink refills

and condiment requests, Maria and Liz stood at the pass-through window again. Liz wished the lunch business would hurry and die down so she could go check on her mom.

"I've got an idea," Maria said.

Liz didn't want to ask. "What?"

"How much do you know about the Crashdown Cafe?"

"A lot," Liz answered.

"Was this always a restaurant?"

"Maybe," Liz answered. "I think so. What difference does it make?"

"Maybe someone died here," Maria said. "Maybe the restaurant is haunted."

"Haunted?" Liz couldn't believe Maria was serious. "You think my mom was upstairs talking to a ghost?"

Maria took a step back and frowned. "It's better than you thinking she's gone totally whack."

"I don't think that," Liz objected, feeling guilty because those thoughts had been in her mind. "Thinking my mom is talking to a ghost isn't exactly a hundred and eighty degree turn on thinking she's wigging out."