“I’m only trying to help you, Mrs. Riggs,” she says in a rush, keeping one eye on the café door. “Please . . . you have to believe me. I’m—I met you in Lily Dale.”
Silence.
“You came to see my grandmother, Odelia Lauder, for a reading. And—and you heard from your father in the auditorium here the other night. A man named Walter brought him through for you. And he was showing you a rock, and a house. Do you remember?”
“Ye-es.” The word is so soft Calla can barely hear it.
“Mrs. Riggs, I think I can help you find Kaitlyn.”
“How?”
“Because—” Calla’s breath catches in her throat.
“Because I’m a psychic,” she admits quietly. Finally. “Like my grandmother. Do you . . . have you ever heard of Hocking Hills State Park?”
Blue insists on walking her up to Odelia’s front door, even though Calla tells him it’s not necessary.
She just wants to be alone with her thoughts right now.
Elaine Riggs did know where Hocking Hills State Park is, and she flatly told Calla that it was miles from where Kaitlyn was last seen.
“Still, I think you should ask the police to search there,” Calla told her, and the woman hung up pretty quickly, without saying whether she would take that advice or not.
There’s nothing else Calla can do. It’s out of her hands. She tried.
“Watch your step.” Blue slips a hand beneath her elbow as they walk up to the porch. “It’s dark out here.”
It is. Odelia must have forgotten to turn on the porch light. She does that about as often as she forgets to lock the door. Or maybe it was just as deliberate tonight, to set the stage for romance with Blue?
“Hey, listen, Calla, I’m sorry about what happened back there.”
His comment takes her by surprise. What is he talking about? Can he possibly know about her call to Mrs. Riggs?
Maybe. He’s psychic, remember?
“What do you mean?” she asks cautiously.
“I mean at the café. When Sue called you Willow, when we first came in. She’s my ex-girlfriend.”
“Sue?”
He laughs. “God, no. Willow York. That’s who Sue was talking about. People are kind of used to us being together, so . . .”
“Now you’re not together?”
“Nope.”
“Because it’s no big deal if you—”
Blue presses his index finger against her lips and says in a whisper, “Shh. Stop talking.”
“Why?”
“Because if your lips are moving, I can’t do this.”
Gently grasping her upper arms with his warm hands, he leans in, eyes closed. His kiss is expert: long, but not wet or sloppy. It’s like a movie kiss, Calla finds herself thinking as he pulls back.
“So . . . I’ll call you,” Blue says cheerfully, and then he’s gone, leaving her alone in the dark, heart pounding and knees weak.
FIFTEEN
That dream . . .
Again.
The fragmented one about the lake, Mom, Odelia. It’s haunted Calla the last two nights again, jarring her out of sleep. She has no way of knowing what time she’s waking up, but it’s definitely been in the wee hours. Like, say, around 3:17 a.m.
The last two days have pretty much been an exhausting blur.
The recurring dream and Kaitlyn Riggs aren’t all that have been haunting Calla.
Blue Slayton’s good-night kiss at Odelia’s front door was pretty . . . memorable. Oh, yeah. Definitely. He told her he’d call her, but he hasn’t yet. And she wants him to. Yes, he’s got a little more swagger than she’d like, but what girl wouldn’t be drawn to Blue Slayton? Especially after that kiss?
Now it’s Friday, noon, and since he hasn’t called yet, she doesn’t expect him to until at least Monday. He mentioned that he’s flying to Manhattan for the weekend with his father, who’s going to be doing some television appearances there.
Lisa will be here in just a few hours, though. Calla can’t decide whether she should tell her about everything that’s been going on here or keep it to herself. Not the Blue Slayton part—that, she’ll tell Lisa . . . and hope it gets back to Kevin. But the rest? The stuff about the ghosts, psychic mediums— and Calla being one of them?
Maybe not. Lisa is her best friend. But there’s a good chance she won’t understand.
A good chance? Ha.
She can’t possibly understand. A few weeks ago, Calla herself thought Lily Dale—and everyone in it—was absurd.
Now she’s a part of it. How insane is that? She’s part of it, and Lisa—and Kevin, and Dad—is not. Funny that she suddenly feels as though she has more in common with people like Odelia, Evangeline, even Blue, than with people she’s known—and loved—her whole life.
But Mom was part of Lily Dale, too, once.
No, Mom still is. Calla can feel her here. And she’s trying to get through to me—I know she is. If I stay, she eventually will. Sooner or later.
That’s why her hand is shaking so badly as she dials the phone at precisely twelve o’clock, with Odelia hovering over her shoulder. Dad called yesterday and said he was going to sleep on it for one more night and have a decision for her by nine his time, before he leaves to teach his first class.
“Is it ringing?” Odelia asks, and Calla nods, holding her breath.
Dad picks up after two rings. “Hi, honey.”
“Hi, Dad.” Her voice comes out kind of strangled-sounding.
“Did you sleep well?”
Geez, talk about a loaded question. Calla tells him that she did, and wishes he would get on with it, but he starts telling her about the weather there this morning. That it’s beautiful and warm and there’s not a hint of smog.
“What’s it doing there?” he asks.
“Raining.” As usual. Calla thought Florida was bad in summer, but there, it storms briefly almost every afternoon, then clears. In Lily Dale, it’s pretty gray much of the time.
“That’s too bad,” Dad says. “Your mom always said the weather wasn’t great up there.”
Is he trying to convince Calla that she doesn’t want to stay?
No. He isn’t. Because he takes a deep breath and says, “Listen, honey, if you want to stay until November . . . you can.”
Suddenly, there’s a lump in her throat and tears have sprung to her eyes.
Looking at her, Odelia shakes her head glumly and whispers, “He said no, huh?”
“No,” Calla whispers back, “he said yes.”
So why is she suddenly feeling so torn?
Because I miss my father. A lot more than I even realized until right now.
“Thanks, Dad.” She tries to sound more enthusiastic than she suddenly feels.
“And listen,” he says, “I’m going to fly there to visit just as soon as I can get things squared away here, and find a decent airfare. I can’t go that long without seeing you.”
“That sounds good.” Yes, she misses him. But she can’t help hoping that there won’t be a decent airfare for a while, because the second he finds out she’s living in a spiritualist colony, it’s all over for her here.
From her perch on Odelia’s porch, Calla can’t see whether the approaching red Toyota has Florida plates, nor can she see the driver and passenger. But she knows, without a doubt, that it’s Kevin and Lisa. She could feel them getting closer long before the car appeared, and her foot has been jiggling a loose floorboard in nervous anticipation for the past ten minutes.
The moment the car pulls up at the curb, the passenger’s side door opens and Lisa pops out. “Calla! Oh my God, I can’t believe I’m here!”
Calla can’t quite grasp it, either, even when Lisa is on the porch grabbing her, hugging her. It feels so good to see a familiar face from home that Calla forgets to look for Kevin. But only for a moment. Then her gaze shifts over Lisa’s shoulder, and she sees him, taking two big suitcases out of the trunk.
He looks good. So good. His h
air is longer again, streaked blond from the sun, and he’s tan, of course. He’s wearing flip-flops, long surfer shorts, an untucked, half-buttoned madras shirt, and a familiar necklace made of hemp and puka shells. Familiar because Calla bought it for him, one day when they were out at Pass-a-Grille. She recognizes it even from here.
He sets the bags on the ground, then looks up. His eyes instantly collide with Calla’s, and his face lights up.
So does hers. She can feel it. And she can’t help it. She’d give anything, in this moment, to walk down there and throw herself into Kevin’s arms.
Somehow, though, she doesn’t. She just smiles at him, and he smiles back.
“Can you bring those up, Kev?” Lisa calls, and he already is.
Calla sees him glance up at the shingle above Odelia’s porch as he lugs the suitcases up the steps. He frowns but says nothing, just deposits the bags on the porch with a grunt.
“Man, those are heavy.”
“You’re staying, too?” Calla asks, then realizes he might think she doesn’t want him to. And she does. Desperately. “I mean, I’m really glad. I just . . . I thought you had to drive back to school tonight.”
“I do. These are Lisa’s bags.”
Oh. Her face grows hot. She should have known. And she shouldn’t have hoped.
“I think she packed everything she owns,” Kevin adds.
“Not everything. I forgot hair gel. I need to get some right away. I’ve gone two days without it because he wouldn’t go out of his way to get it, and every time we stopped we were in the middle of nowhere.”
“I hate to say it,” Calla speaks up, “but you still are.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean there’s a Wal-Mart ten miles away, and that’s about it for shopping as far as I can tell.”
“Then let’s go right now.”
“Now?”
“Look at me!” Lisa lifts a hank of her silky blond hair in disgust.
“You look great,” Calla tells her. “And I’ll get my grandmother to take us tomorrow. She’s, um, busy for the rest of the day.” Right. Doing back-to-back readings with clients anxious to get in before the season ends. But Calla isn’t about to get into that yet. Not with Kevin here, especially.
Lisa wails and turns to her brother. “You’ve got to take us to Wal-Mart.”
“Me! I’ve got to drive to Ithaca.”
“Please take us to Wal-Mart first, Kev. Come on. I let you keep the AC on high for two days even though I was freezing, and I didn’t complain once about your choice of music.”
“Sure you did. Constantly.”
Calla can’t help but grin at that. Lisa likes only country.
“Please, Kev?” Lisa asks. “Come on. It won’t take long. I promise.”
He sighs. “Okay. Come on, let’s go. But you have to make it quick. I need to get on the road to school.”
And Annie, Calla thinks grimly, thinking she shouldn’t even tag along to Wal-Mart.
But she does. Old habits die hard.
Lisa does most of the talking on the way to Wal-Mart, sitting in the back but leaning forward between the two seats. Even with her there, even in a new car, Calla can’t help but feel wrongly comfortable sitting there beside Kevin in the front. If only . . .
No. Stop.
Wal-Mart’s parking lot is crowded. As Kevin squeezes his new car into the first available space, Calla thinks, for the first time in a while, of Blue. Blue and his BMW, parked way out where no other car can touch it.
In the store’s entryway, Lisa promptly grabs a cart.
“Uh . . . how much are you planning to buy?” Kevin asks warily.
“Just a few things.”
“Oh, God. I can’t watch this.”
“Then don’t. I’ll meet you guys up front in half an hour.” Lisa sails away.
Calla looks helplessly at Kevin, who shrugs and sighs. “Looks like we’ve got some time to browse.”
We? So, he’s going to stick with her?
Suspecting Lisa did this on purpose, Calla wishes she hadn’t. She wants to tell Lisa there’s no hope for her and Kevin; he has a new girlfriend now, and she . . .
Well, she doesn’t have a new boyfriend, though Blue said he’d call. And when she ran into Jacy yesterday at the library, they talked for over half an hour. She left feeling as though she wouldn’t mind seeing him again. Maybe Evangeline will get over him and move on to someone new. If that happened, there would be no reason not to—
“Do you need to get anything specific here?” Kevin asks Calla, breaking into her thoughts. “Should I get a cart?”
“God, no.”
There’s plenty that Calla needs, though. She picks things up here and there as she and Kevin walk along. Nail polish and remover and emery boards, a couple of books, and—after a slight hesitation—a new digital alarm clock. In the jewelry department, she buys a cheap watch.
“I forgot all my jewelry back home,” she feels compelled to explain.
“Right,” he says a little sadly, and she realizes he thinks she stopped wearing the Movado because they broke up. She wants to tell him that’s not true, but then decides to let him think it is. Let him feel bad that he fell for another girl and dumped her in a text message.
That thought is enough to make her deliberately pause to browse the clearance aisle on their way to the front register, even though she can feel him getting antsy.
“There’s some good stuff here,” she comments, picking up a packet of stationery emblazoned with a C. If she can’t e-mail anyone, she’ll have to keep sending real letters.
“So, are you all set, then? Lisa should be ready,” he adds, checking his own watch. It’s new, Calla notices. A gift from Annie? Grrrrr . . .
She can’t resist saying, “Just give me another minute to make sure I’m not missing any bargains . . . oh, look at those cute Santa cups!”
Reaching toward the shelf that holds out-of-season holiday items, she suddenly stops short, feeling a blast of cold.
The air-conditioned store was hardly warm to begin with, but all at once, it’s absolutely arctic. Shivering, noting the uneasiness that whooshed through her along with the chill, Calla asks Kevin, “Do you feel that?”
“What, the AC? I guess someone just cranked it. Brr.”
As she looks up at him, she sees a woman standing beside him. The woman from the cemetery, and the lake. She stares into Calla’s eyes.
“What? What do you want?” she blurts out, and Kevin jerks his head around to look behind him, then back again at Calla.
“Who are you talking to?”
The woman is still standing right there, still staring, though Kevin doesn’t even see her.
She’s trying to tell me something.
Who are you? she asks silently, not daring to speak out loud in front of Kevin again.
Aiyana. The word—a name—pops into her head as clearly as if the woman had spoken it.
Maybe she did.
Aiyana? Is that your name? Another silent question . . . but somehow, the woman is reading Calla’s thoughts.
She responds with a pleased nod. Aiyana.
“Calla?” Kevin touches her arm.
As he speaks, the woman begins to morph before her eyes, going from sharply focused to blurred, like a photograph taken when the object was in motion.
“No . . . wait!” But the figure has gone quickly transparent.
And finally, she isn’t there at all.
She’s gone. Yet the chill still lingers over Calla. Shivering, she raises her arms to hug herself. As she does, she hears something start to wobble on the shelf beside her.
I didn’t even brush against it, Calla thinks incredulously, startled when a moment later whatever it is falls to the floor and shatters.
Looking down in bewilderment, she realizes that she’s surrounded by shards of green glass. Dismayed she looks back at the shelf. “How did that happen?” The broken object was one of the holiday items near the Santa cups: c
ute green shamrock-shaped candy dishes.
“Careful,” Kevin says, as a store employee approaches. “Don’t get cut on the glass, Calla.” He touches her arm to pull her back from the broken shards.
“I’ll pay for it,” Calla offers, jittery not just from the inexplicable accident, but from Kevin’s warm hand on her bare skin.
“Not necessary,” the employee, a manager, says with a shrug. “These are marked down to, like, a quarter each. We’ve been trying to unload them since Saint Patrick’s Day.”
“I know, but still—”
“Really, it’s fine,” he says, and calls someone to come to the clearance aisle for cleanup.
Rattled, Calla can only apologize again, profusely, before following Kevin to the register, where Lisa is waiting with a full cart. Kevin uses his parents’ credit card to pay for everything in it, and everything Calla has as well.
“It’s no big deal,” he tells her as they head out to the parking lot with their bags.
It is a big deal, to her. But not nearly as disturbing as what happened back in the store.
Aiyana, Calla thinks, over and over again as they drive home. Aiyana.
By Monday afternoon, Calla is more than ready to see Lisa off to the airport.
Which is interesting, because on the other hand, it was hard to watch Kevin drive away on Friday night. He gave her a quick hug before he left, similar to the one he gave his sister. But the brief contact made Calla wistful all over again.
“Remember,” he said, “if you need me, I’m not far away.”
“I know. Thanks.”
She’s had a good weekend with Lisa, overall. It’s been nice to have some company, and to think about something other than spirits for a change. And yes, she’ll miss Lisa when she’s gone. It’s just that her friend has disdain for everything and everyone in Lily Dale. That was obvious from the moment they got back from Wal-Mart and she spotted Odelia’s shingle for the first time. Of course, she was polite to Calla’s grandmother, who couldn’t be a more gracious hostess. But whenever Odelia was out of earshot, Lisa talked about her as if she’s a batty old woman.
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