“What does Mike think?”
Charlie’s hands continue a steady journey up and down my back. “He kept asking me why I believe you. I told him about Eastbrook and the mirror, but he didn’t buy it. He thinks I’m lying for you.”
I press myself into him, holding on, trying to keep from begging him to stay.
“There’s a blanket in that cabinet,” he murmurs into my hair. “I’ll make the bed for you.”
“Okay,” I mumble.
If I could wish this night over with, the sun would already be rising.
The water seeps in. Dripping and sloshing. A slow torture. Just like everything else. How could they leave me here? Alone and ignored. Will no one stand by me? Will no one show compassion or forgiveness?
I snap back to consciousness as if I’ve been jolted by a taser, a yelp of fear leaving my lips. The blanket is knotted around me, sweat beads at my hairline. Lydia’s still here in the recesses of my brain, crying and lamenting her fate.
Stop! I tell her in my head, squeezing my eyes shut.
She carries on with her incessant moaning. What will happen now? Will she take over completely? Would she stay here and haunt the boat if she somehow became expelled? So many questions. I will try to remember to ask Gram, but for now, I spend my energy reasoning with Lydia.
Please, Lydia. You need to stop.
Surprisingly, her voice fades. I get up the courage to slide open the pocket door and peek outside. A fluorescent pink sky greets me. Yes. A welcome sight. I imagine Gram driving to the airport in Papa’s Cadillac to make her flight. She’ll have a quick trip up to Boston from Baltimore, but then she’ll have to get a flight to Nantucket or the bus to Hyannis, and after that, a boat. I hope she knows how urgent the situation is and flies.
Charlie left me some granola bars and water, so I choke down a bar, slurping on the water, and then I lie back down to wait. I have no intention of sleeping again, and I wonder how long it will be before he comes back. We’ll have to hide out until Gram arrives, and I imagine the harbor will be busy. Will people wonder what we’re doing on the boat? I can’t just go home. They’d whisk me off to the hospital again. Mom may be so enraged she’ll never forgive me.
Even with a million conflicting thoughts, I manage to doze off. I don’t wake up until there’s a dull thwack against the side of the boat and the sound of someone scrambling on board. For a moment, I panic. Is it Charlie? Could it be someone else? When he appears in the doorway, I let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”
“How are you?” he asks, moving to sit on the nubby cushions beside me.
“Fine. What time is it?” I ask groggily.
“Ten. Dad and Carrie said you can come home and wait for your grandmother. I made them promise not to send you back to the hospital. At least until we can talk to her.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I know I can trust my dad. He promised.”
“And my mom?”
“She agreed, too. She’s a wreck, crying and worried about you.”
“She is?” My voice cracks.
“Yeah. Come on. I’ll take you home.”
Chapter 33
The sky is clear and brilliant on our drive back to Fair-Ever. A soft breeze carries the scent of roses in the car window. The sights and sounds of normal life help ease my stress, but as soon as the jeep is in the driveway, my optimism fades. I’m weighed down again, fitted with imaginary iron shackles. Lydia seems to know we’re back, too—except she’s happy. She’s humming and singing her lullaby, this time in a jaunty way. I close my eyes to try to quiet her.
“Jade?” Charlie says tentatively, his hand brushing against my arm.
“Hmmm?” When I open my eyes, Mom and Mike are standing in the side yard, staring at me. Mom looks as though she hasn’t slept. Her face is puffy, her hair tied up in a messy ponytail.
“You can do this,” Charlie says. “I’ll be right beside you.” He gets out and comes around to open the door for me.
I let him help me out, and together, we walk through the side gate. Mike averts his eyes first, as if looking at me is too difficult. Too grim. Mom stares as if she’s seeing me for the first time, as though I’m someone she’s never met. A wave of nausea rolls through me, but when we stop in front of them, she doesn’t hesitate. She pulls me in a hug. I wasn’t expecting it, so I sort of balk at first. She’s shorter than I am, so the embrace is a little awkward, but she holds me against her nonetheless, and this display of emotion brings on the tears. Again. For like the twelve millionth time in the last two days.
After thirty or so seconds of that, Mike pats our backs and suggests we head inside. Yes, of course. We wouldn’t want the highfalutin neighbors thinking something weird is going on over at Fair-Ever.
When we pull apart, my mom takes my face in her hands. “Whatever is going on, we’ll fix it. I promise. We’ll find a way to fix it.”
“Okay.” I nod, not sure what this means but wanting to be agreeable again, which is kind of funny because I didn’t used to mind being a brat with my mother.
“Why don’t we all have a seat and talk,” Mike says, leading us to the family room.
Zeke trots along with us, bumping me with his head, totally unaware of the chaos going on around him. I wish I could be as oblivious as he is. I keep my head down, afraid to look around too much, but I do see that Brendan’s in the kitchen, making something to eat. He looks as though he just got up, and he’s staring at me—sideshow, look-at-that-freak kind of staring. And he keeps doing it even after we sit down.
“Cut it out,” Charlie says to him.
“What?” Brendan says.
“She’s fine, dude.”
“She’s definitely not fine. People who claim to have ghosts inside them aren’t fine.”
Charlie mutters something and jumps up from the couch.
“Boys!” Mike shouts.
Charlie plows toward the kitchen. Brendan steps out to meet him, and they lock together in an aggressive hug sort of move before staggering away toward the hall.
“Boys!” Mike yells again.
But they keep going, rocking and spinning until Charlie has Brendan shoved up against the wall. Their chests heave, their faces inches apart.
“Apologize,” Charlie growls.
They huff and puff from the exertion, but Brendan is silent.
“Say it!” Charlie says. Veins pop out of his neck and arms. He gives Brendan another shove for emphasis, banging his brother’s head into the plaster.
“Sorry, Jade.” Brendan’s voice comes out with a gurgle.
Charlie releases him, pushing him away. Brendan spends a couple seconds adjusting his wrenched-up shirt before walking back over to finish making his food. Mom and Mike whisper together behind the breakfast bar.
Charlie joins me on the couch again. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I lean against him. He places his arm around me, and we wait for the family meeting to start.
“Jade?” Mom says. “Charlie told me your grandmother is coming and that she thinks she can help us.”
Everyone is looking at me except Brendan. He’s hunched over his bagel on the coffee table. I nod dully.
Mom glances at Charlie, then back at me. “When I called her, a caregiver for your grandfather answered. She said that Winnie is in fact on her way here.”
“Okay.” I’m so glad she’s coming.
“So we’ll wait to see what she says… what she does. But after that, you may need to go somewhere to get some help.” Mom’s voice is gentle.
“She’ll know what to do. I know she will,” I say.
“Okay. Do you know if she has a cell phone? You don’t have that number in your phone, but I’d like to try to call her before she gets here.”
“She doesn’t. She gets disposables when they travel. Can I go shower?” I want to escape before they start asking questions about how I got away from the hospital and where Charlie took me and why I’m so friggin’ crazy.
Mom sighs. “Will you be… okay?”
A cell phone rings before I can answer. Everyone looks around, trying to figure out whose phone it is. The generic ringtone could be anyone’s. When it sounds again, we all turn toward Charlie because the noise seems to be coming from him.
He leans back and pulls his phone from the pocket of his cargo shorts. “Hello?” Pause. “Yes. Hi. Jade’s right here.”
He holds the phone out to me. “It’s your grandmother.”
Chapter 34
I’m flooded with nerves, butterflies taking flight by the thousands in my stomach. Gram will understand. I know she will.
I take the phone and get to my feet. “Hi, Gram.” I head for the den so I can have some privacy.
“Hi, sweetie. I’m in Boston. I’ll be there soon.”
I shut the door behind me. “Great. That’s so great.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t know. I should have known. I should have been able to tell.”
“It’s okay.”
“This gift is a very powerful thing, but you have to know how to handle yourself. It sounds like you’ve gotten into some trouble.”
“I can’t… I’m trying not to think about her.”
“All right. Don’t. We’ll talk more when I get there. We can take care of this. I know we’ll get it sorted out. Don’t worry.”
“Okay.”
“Are you home?”
“Yes. They let me… come back.”
“Oh, good. That’s good. Should I speak with your mother? She must have lots of questions.”
“Yeah. She does. I do, too.”
“Okay, sweetheart. Don’t worry. I’m on my way. Let me talk to your mom for a minute.”
Opening the door, I find everyone but Brendan waiting just outside. Their faces have the wide-eyed look of eavesdroppers caught in the act. Even Charlie. What’s up with that?
I frown and thrust Charlie’s phone at Mom, my agreeable resolve fading. “She wants to talk to you.”
Mom heads for the couch with the phone and proceeds to listen to Gram for several minutes, mumbling the occasional “uh huh” and “Yes, I see.” Finally, she says, “Okay. I’ll be there. Let me give you my cell. Do you have a pen?”
I move back to my place at the end of the couch because exhaustion is overtaking me again. On top of that, I’m trying to blank out my mind because I don’t want to provoke Lydia. I feel a faint bubbling somewhere deep inside me, as if Lydia knows Gram’s coming to help me get rid of her. The problem with not thinking about something is that you think about not thinking about it.
Mom hangs up the phone and passes it back to Charlie. “I’m picking her up at twelve thirty.”
I nod and close my eyes, trying to clear Lydia. I just got home, and I can’t have her destroying the progress we’ve made.
Progress? These people need to leave our home, Eliza.
“Do you want something to eat?” Charlie asks me softly.
“Sure,” I whisper.
Mom scoots closer to me. “What’s wrong, Jade?”
“She’s fine,” Charlie says curtly.
Mike waggles a finger at Charlie. “Don’t be rude.”
I stand up. “I just want to go lie down.” I raise my foot to walk toward the stairs but fall back onto the couch.
My stomach roils with bile. I’m going to lose it. Lydia’s flying around in my brain like a witch on a broom, trying to find a way out. I wish I could feel sorry for her, but what she’s doing to me is too frightening, too horrific. I’m in danger of losing everything, and there’s no energy left for sympathy. I hear someone calling me, but the voice is far away, like a bad connection on a cell phone, a call about to get dropped.
“Get out! Get out of here!” I scream, kneeling in the center of my bed, my arms flailing at the intruder. He’s neither my beloved nor my husband, and he has no business being in my bed.
He rolls away and falls to the floor. “Jade! Stop!” He holds up his hands. “It’s okay.”
“Lunatic! Spouting lunacy!”
The others are here, too, the trespassers. They aren’t my parents. They’re the strangers, and they stare at me as though I’m the most hideous creature they’ve ever seen. They know how wretched and depraved I am. There’s no hiding from that look of disgust, even in my own home.
The she-devil steps forward, her hair a flaming scarlet flowing around her shoulders. “Jade, please calm down.”
“This infernal Jade! The name of a harlot! A foreigner!”
“Jade, just stop,” the she-devil says, her voice trembling with emotion.
“Go away! Just go away!”
Gasping, I fall to the pillows. Tears light a fire in my eyes, stinging and blurring my vision.
“She’s okay. Her pulse is strong.”
“What if she doesn’t wake up?”
“She will. She’s coming to now, I think.”
Their voices come close, whispering in my ear, and then go distant again, bulging and giving like a water balloon. Mom’s voice is the calmest. Shockingly calm. I know I’m lying down, and when I force open my eyes, I see Mom sitting on the floor next to me, holding my hand.
“What happened?” I dart my eyes over to Charlie and Mike and back to my mom. Brendan seems to be gone.
Mom puts a hand on my forehead. “Nothing. You’re fine. Just rest here.”
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Get the trash can!” Mom calls.
I retch. The noise echoes disgustingly throughout the room. Someone brings the can just in time. I spew water and acid and horribleness. With about one percent of my being, I’m humiliated. Vomiting in front of anyone but your mother is one of the most embarrassing things that could happen to you, but I’m too sick to care at this point.
Afterward, I lay on a pillow, my eyes shut, drifting in and out of consciousness. Lydia’s voice pops into my brain, mixed with the words I hear around me from Mom and Charlie and Mike.
She’s so pale.
Never. Never.
I’ll get her a glass of water.
We’ll be together.
I’ll be back with Winnie.
I’m trying to keep everything straight, who’s who and what it means, but the mania is starting to run together like a stream of consciousness—a James Joyce novel mixed with an E.E. Cummings poem, only less profound. That is what has become of my brain. I reek of vomit. My lips are so dry I can almost feel them cracking.
Gram. Where is Gram?
Chapter 35
“Jade?”
“Hmmm?”
“It’s your grandmother. Open your eyes.”
I force my lids apart.
“You need to tell me which room. Charlie thinks the dining room?”
I may be dreaming. Gram’s white hair is like a halo around her cocoa skin, each wrinkle on her face a precise line of beauty that I love. “What?”
“Which room is hers? Where she is strongest?”
I sigh and close my eyes again. “Dining.”
“We’ll get everything ready, then. You need to prepare yourself. I need you. You’ll have to do this with me.”
“Okay.”
Gram turns to Charlie. “Do you have any Coca-Cola? She needs something to wake her up.”
Charlie nods. “I’ll get it.”
“Sit up,” Gram orders.
I do as she says, and she wedges herself between me and the arm rest. Her Shalimar wafts over me, and the aroma soothes me. I decide that it’s safe to keep my e
yes open for the time being.
“Do you have any pitchers? We need two.” Gram asks Mom.
“Yes. Of course.” Mom scurries to the kitchen.
I watch her across the expanse of the open family room while she pulls open cabinets, poking around in them. In the second cabinet, Mom puts her hands on a rooster one that was surely Mrs. Dowler’s and the green Fiesta ware one that came from our house.
“What are they for?” I ask.
“Oh, I’ll explain later,” Gram says, patting my leg. “Don’t you worry about a thing.”
Charlie returns with a Coke, and Gram takes the can from him.
“Fill the rooster with water,” Gram calls. She presses the opened can to my lips. “Drink.”
“Charlie and I will leave,” Mike says.
“No. I’m staying,” Charlie says. His blue eyes lock on me, his gaze unwavering.
A weak smile lifts my lips because having him willing to go through this with me means the world to me.
Mike frowns.
Charlie looks over at his dad and says again, “I’m staying.”
Gram interrupts their staring match. “I’m sorry to barge into your life like this, Mr. Dowler. I know you probably think I’m a crazy woman, but could I bother you to help round up as many candles as you can before you leave us?”
Mike nods. “Sure. No problem.” He looks almost happy to have been given a task, and in that moment, he kind of reminds me of Charlie. Maybe because of the messy hair or the way he stumbles off down the hall to the dining room. My mom follows him after putting the rooster pitcher on the coffee table.
Gram turns to Charlie. “Charlie, I need you to tell me as briefly as possible who this spirit is. Jade, if she starts acting up, you tell us to stop.”
Charlie glances at me, then says, “She’s a lady who had a baby with another guy while her husband was whaling. Then the husband kept the baby and married someone else. And she killed herself. Here.”
Ever Near (Secret Affinity Book 1) Page 17