The old house is supposed to be abandoned and uninhabited. Thus, Mort's assertion that a friend of his lives there is rather intriguing. Thus, on her day off, Rosalli is going to investigate.

It's not trespassing if no one lives there, right?

Just a young lady in a green coat, blue jeans, and boots. Nothing particularly out of the ordinary, nothing special.

Nick exits the house at around the same time, using the doorknob like a conventional man, his coat buttoned to his neck, hat pulled low over his eyes. As he comes out backwards to lock the door, it's a moment before he spots Rosally, and when he does, he pauses, one foot resting without weight on a lower step from the porch.
"Excuse me?" he says, leaning slightly to the side and tilting his hat for a better look. "Can I help you?"

Blush.

"Oh, I... I'm sorry. I thought this place was abandoned."

Pause.

"See, I met this kid the other night, and he said a friend of his lived over here, and I thought... Um. Are you Norm?"

It's a legitimate question.

"It was." he looks around with a fond smile for the run-down and tangled yard. "I bought it; I'm restoring it."
Blink.
Who would she have...?
"You must mean Mortimer, he's stayed with us for the past couple of nights. I'm not Norman, I'm his landlord, J. Nichols."

"Oh."

She seems a trifle deflated.

"What's the J stand for, if it's okay to ask?"

He chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners, though it's invisible in the shadow of his hat.
"J. stands for Jay."

"Oh. Okay."

Pause.

"I, ah, I'm sorry to disturb you."

"It's no trouble at all." he smiles, and makes his way down the rest of the steps, touching one pale hand to the brim of his hat, not taking it off.
"You're a pleasant change from children with rocks. Your name?"

"Rocks, huh? My mom would kill me." Wince.

Mostly because her mother is of the opinion that these houses should be cared for and kept up, because they're part of her natural environment. (Despite not being exactly... natural.)

"Rosalli."

"They think the place is haunted; they throw rocks at the windows to see if the ghost will come out and chase them away." thank goodness, the windows are all intact for the moment.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Rosalli."

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised if it was haunted. It's old enough."

She makes a line in the dirt with one foot, feeling just a trifle awkward, but unwilling to walk away in the middle of a conversation.

"Heck, my house is haunted. It's my mom's favorite conversation topic, aside from the garden."

"Your house is haunted?" First off, he doesn't want to discuss his house being haunted, and secondly...more ghosts?
"Have you seen the ghost?"

She gives him a funny look.

"If you're a ghost-hunter, I suggest you avoid this one. It's like having a permanent crotchety aunt living with us, and she never dies, and never shuts up."

It could be a joke, if he doesn't know about real ghosts.

It could be simple truth.

"I, a ghost hunter? Certainly not." He winces. She doesn't sound like particularly pleasant company. Nick likes someone who appreciates silence too, though he craves conversation, being a lonely ghost.

Wait. One second.
"Ghost hunters? There are ghost hunters? What do they do?"

"You know, the people who drive around looking for 'paranormal' stuff and then brag about it on the internet. Ectoplasm tourists."

She thinks they're all morons.

Then again, she also knows a ghost and would rather not.

Rosalli is a trifle jaded to the supernatural.

"Oh,that." He smiles with relief. "Before the state closed the house down, years before I bought the place, they'd bring groups through."
He didn't like them, and he hid. Creaky doors were not enough to keep business going for long.

"I wouldn't know. That's probably before I was born."

Although she's lived here all her life.

Stupid mother.

"Probably. I've made a study of the place's history. It's very interesting."
Of course it's interesting. It's his old house, and he loves it.

"History buff? There are worse hobbies."

She thinks he's rather nice.

"So, ah, how come you've got tenants if the place still isn't fixed up all the way?"

"We're being rather unconventional. Instead paying rent, Norman is helping me restore. As for Mortimer, he avoids me. I'm not sure what is going on with him, only that he seems to have found himself homeless."

"Oh."

She nods.

"Yeah, he told me the building where he lived burned down."

"A terrible thing." he shakes his head. "He seems a bit at loose ends. Of course I wouldn't turn him away."

"Do you always let strangers in your home without asking questions?"

He seems to be a bit of a pushover.

Um.

No offense.

"Certainly not." Not if they seem like they're going to break things. He wrinkles his nose, slightly offended. "He's a friend of Norman's."
And look at the kid. Obviously harmless.

"So do you know Norman pretty well, then?"

That makes a difference.

"Oh, yes. We were well acquainted before he came here."
He's relaxing too much, losing concentration, going just slightly translucent, barely noticeable unless you happened to be looking for it.

"I get it."

She nods and decides that it's time to sit down on the steps, because obviously they're going to be talking for a little while longer.

"Also, you should be a bit more careful."

"I beg your pardon?" he steps back, clutching at his coat. It isn't falling through him, is it?

"I can see the outline of the steps through your legs."

Smile.

"But like I said, my house is haunted too, so ghosts don't bother me."

"Oh." Embarassed, he takes a seat beside her. "For all I knew, you were just superstitious."

"No, I really have a ghost in my house that's like a grumpy, finicky aunt that never, ever leaves."

She leans back and looks up at his porch.

"You should do some kind of garden for this place. Plants do a lot for atmosphere."

"Perhaps when I have the interior finished."
The house used to have incredible gardens. He does miss them.

"Well, hey, when you do, look me up. I'm pretty sure I'm stuck in this town for at least another year, until my mom gets over her paranoia about travel."

It stems from being unable to go more than a certain distance from her rosebush, on her mother's part.

And her father allows it.

"I'll do that, thank you." He'll pay her for her services, if he can figure out a way. "You should try to visit Europe, one day."

"God, if only. I've never even been out of Bayfield."

She quirks an eyebrow.

"So, are you stuck at this house or what?"

"I can't leave the city limits; I live in this house because I want to." He's a free-range ghost.

She nods.

"Well, at least you aren't stuck in the house all the time. I bet that would get pretty depressing."

And boring. Like Bayfield.

"It certainly would be. I get lonely from time to time; it's nice to be able to walk about." he smiles faintly, then takes off his hat. No point, after all; she isn't likely to be disturbed by the glowing blue of his eyes.

"Yeah."

Pause.

"So... not that it's any of my business... but how did you die?"

It's a valid question.

"I was murdered in the foyer."
He plucks at his coat, grinning ruefully.
"I wear this because there is blood."