Abby waved her hand at Ellie. “She wants a camera. What do you recommend?”
If Abby had been expecting the first words out of his mouth to be “How much do you want to spend?” she was relieved when the young man—who had to be five years younger than she was—leaned over to address Ellie directly. “What do you want to use it for?”
After listening for a couple of minutes, Abby wandered a bit through the store, confident that Ellie and the salesperson had matters well in hand. She realized she hadn’t seen a photo album for a long time, much less assembled a collection of pictures. Everything was online or on the computer these days, which made things easy but made her feel a little sad. Sure, you could share your virtual album on a monitor or television screen, but it wasn’t the same as snuggling with someone else and leafing through an old album together, commenting on the strange hairstyles and funny-looking cars in old pictures. She felt that those little pieces of history should be physical, something you could hold—which she realized was inconsistent, because she was “seeing” her deceased relatives in front of her when she knew full well that they couldn’t be touched because only their images lingered, not their forms.
“Abby?” Ellie was tugging on her arm.
“You find something, Ellie?”
“Yeah. Come see.” Ellie all but dragged her back to the counter. “Look at this,” she said, picking up a camera about the same size and shape as Abby’s, but with more buttons and dials. Ellie confidently explained what most of them did, holding the camera up now and then so Abby could look through the viewscreen. Abby had only a vague grasp of what Ellie was talking about, but she knew one thing: she’d come to the right place, and Ellie was more than ready to leapfrog right over a starter camera.
When Ellie finally ran out of steam, she said, “Is it okay? I mean, can you, we, afford this?”
“Let’s find out.” Abby turned to the salesclerk. “How much is it?”
“All in? I mean, with a rechargeable lithium battery, and a card that holds lots of pictures, and a case?”
When Abby nodded yes, he named a figure that made her gulp, but only once. The camera looked so deceptively simple. Maybe she could tell Leslie it cost only half the actual price? And Ellie seemed so at home with handling it.
“Okay, let’s do it.” Abby swallowed again as she fished in her bag for her wallet and credit cards.
Five minutes later they emerged blinking in the bright sunlight. “Thank you, thank you, Abby,” Ellie said, almost bouncing with excitement. “This is so cool. And I promise I’ll take good care of it. Can we go somewhere and take pictures? And can I use your computer when we get back?”
“Sure, why not? You hungry yet?”
“Kind of. Where are we?”
“Newton. Any place you want to go, or should I pick?”
“You can pick.” Ellie turned back to exploring her new toy, but Abby was pleased to see that she handled it delicately.
Where to? She had a sudden brainstorm: Wellesley was just down the road. Wellesley was where she and Ned had run into a few shared ancestors in the cemetery, not long after they’d first met. Maybe Ellie would like to meet them too? She started the car and went around the block to get onto Route 16.
When they arrived, Abby went straight to the parking lot behind the main street and pulled into a space. “Don’t leave your camera in plain sight, Ellie. Under the seat, or I can put it in the trunk, okay?”
“Okay. Trunk, please.”
Abby unlatched the trunk from inside, and Ellie went quickly around to tuck her precious package away out of sight.
“Where are we going?” Ellie asked.
“That place over there has sandwiches and drinks, I think.” She pointed to the shop visible from the corner of the parking lot—and across from the cemetery. She and Ned had stopped there once. It seemed so long ago now, and so much had happened since.
“Do they have cookies?” Ellie interrupted Abby’s reverie.
“I’m pretty sure they do,” Abby told her, then led her to the crosswalk.
Inside, they ordered at the counter, and Abby added a couple of pounds of coffee beans to take home. When their food was ready, they went over to a table by the front window, and Abby carefully maneuvered Ellie into the seat with the better view of the cemetery. Then she just watched.
For a couple of minutes Ellie just prattled on about her camera, between bites of a stuffed croissant. And then her gaze drifted across the street. Abby had to suppress a smile: if Ellie had been a cat, Abby would have said that her ears pricked up. Ellie stared intently for perhaps thirty seconds, then she turned back to Abby. “Are they . . . ?”
Abby smiled and nodded. “They are.”
“Are you testing me or something?”
“Maybe. I hope you don’t mind. Ned and I came here a while ago, when I was first learning about . . . this thing. And I found them right away, just like you.”
“Okay. So Ned sees them too? I mean, these particular ones?”
“Yes, he does. He and I are related a lot of generations back, and we’re both related to them.” Abby nodded toward the cemetery.
“How come I see them?”
Oops. Abby hadn’t thought about that aspect of this little excursion. She and Ned saw the same deceased people because they were related to them genetically, as well as to each other. But how to explain to Ellie why she saw them without telling her the whole story?
“Maybe because you’re with me? You know we kind of amplify each other, right?”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Ellie looked skeptical, but didn’t ask any more questions.
Abby breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Leslie was going to have to have that “who’s your daddy?” conversation sooner rather than later, but not today.
After lunch Abby and Ellie strolled along the main street of the town, stopping at the large bookstore to browse. They each picked out a couple of books, and it was after three when they finally headed back to the parking lot. When they reached the car, Ellie said, “That was fun, Abby. Thank you.”
“I had a good time too, Ellie. Get in—time to head home and see what’s what.” She pulled out her phone, which she had left on in case Leslie called with any updates about George, but there were no messages. She put it back in her purse without comment.
Getting back to Lexington was easy over local roads. Heck, in August getting anywhere was generally easy, since most people seemed to head off on vacation, reducing the traffic. With the possible exception of the highways leading on and off Cape Cod, which she had heard could be backed up for miles.
Once they reached Lexington, Ellie was out of the car and standing impatiently next to the trunk even before Abby had turned off the engine. Abby popped open the trunk, then got out. “Read the instructions first, will you?” she told Ellie.
“Yes, of course. I know what I’m doing, and I’m careful.” Ellie was already deep into reading the manual that had come with the camera, so Abby decided to leave her to it and unlocked the front door, leaving it open. The old house was not air-conditioned, and probably never would be, but Abby had already learned that if she opened strategically placed windows throughout the house, there was good airflow, and the house cooled off at night. Ellie quickly settled herself in the window seat in the back parlor, still absorbed by the manual, so Abby made for the kitchen, already thinking about dinner, but stopped to check the landline. There was a message from Leslie, and she played it immediately.
“Hi, Abby. I’m calling on this line because I didn’t want Ellie to overhear and I figured you might be out. Things with George were a little more complicated than we expected. It’s not all bad news—I won’t go into details over the phone now—but it’s going to take a little longer than we thought. I hope you and Ned can handle Ellie for a few days. Sorry to dump this on you with such short notice. I’ll give you a call later so I can talk to Ellie, and I’ll fill you in then.”
Oh, dear, Abby thought. Poor George. Poor Leslie. O
f course she and Ned could manage with Ellie, so that was one less thing for Leslie to worry about. She wondered what the problem had turned out to be, but she didn’t want to speculate with no information—she’d have to wait until Leslie called later. So, back to planning dinner.
She was concocting an improvised spaghetti dish that she figured Ellie would eat. At some point Ellie had gone outside: Abby had seen her going past one or another window, snapping pictures as she went. How many pictures did a big card hold? Hundreds, she assumed. She heard a car pull in, and then Ned’s voice and Ellie’s, as Ellie explained her new acquisition and he listened patiently. A couple of minutes later he came in, alone, and kissed Abby.
“Any news?”
“Leslie left a message. Not good, I’m afraid, but she’ll call back with details. Looks like we’ll have Ellie a little longer.”
“That’s fine, isn’t it? Was the camera your idea or hers?”
“A little of each. It looks like it’s a big hit, doesn’t it?”
“That it does, and she really seems to know what she’s doing. And I’ve got an idea for something else we can do, since Ellie will be around longer now. I’ll tell you over dinner.”
“Ready in fifteen,” Abby told him with a kiss.
At dinner Ellie all but inhaled her spaghetti, clearly eager to get back to her camera. “Ned, you said you had an idea?” Abby asked him.
“First things first. Ellie, it looks like you might be staying with us for a few days—your dad needs to rest after today. So I was wondering if you’d like to spend a few days on Cape Cod?”
“Uh, okay, I guess. Will Dad be okay?”
“We think so, but it might take longer than your mom thought,” Abby said.
“What’s Cape Cod?” Ellie asked.
“It’s that funny curved piece of land that juts out into the sea at the south end of the state. It’s been settled since the first colonists arrived, but now it’s a popular place to take vacations—lots of beaches and touristy things.”
“Oh. Okay,” Ellie said, apparently satisfied.
Abby turned to Ned. “I’d always heard that everything on the Cape was booked up by January. Do you know a place?”
“I’ve got a friend who has a house there, in West Falmouth, right on a harbor. You’re right—usually it would be booked for all of August, but he had a last-minute cancellation and he asked if I might be interested. Are you?”
“Me? Or you and me? With Ellie, of course,” Abby asked.
“I can’t get away until the weekend, but you two could go out now and get settled, and I’ll join you there. How does that work for you?”
“It isn’t some big mansion where I’d be afraid to track sand all over the floors, is it?”
“Not at all,” Ned said, smiling. “It’s a nice shingle house, built around 1900, with a porch overlooking the water. There might be some flashier places in the neighborhood, but this one’s just the right size. Are you up for it, Ellie?”
“Can we swim?” she asked.
“I think so,” Ned told her. “There’s a nice beach not too far away. Maybe you could even fish, or go sailing. Lots of things to do.”
“Sounds good,” Ellie said. “May I be excused now?”
“Sure, sweetie,” Abby said. When Ellie had gone upstairs, she turned back to Ned. “It’s available until September second? Because that’s when school starts for Ellie. Of course, I hope she’ll be back home by then.”
“Don’t worry about it. At least through the weekend, all right?”
“Then it sounds lovely. Thank you.”
Chapter 3
It was after eight when Leslie finally called back. Abby and Ned exchanged a glance when Abby saw the caller ID, but she decided to pick up, rather than letting Ned do it. “Leslie? How’re things going?”
“Is Ellie nearby?” was Leslie’s first question.
“You mean can she overhear us? No. What’s wrong?”
Leslie sighed. “What we thought was a simple gallbladder problem turned out to be a bit more complicated than that. Instead of a quick arthroscopic procedure, they had to open George up. They found it was a tumor than had created the original problem.”
“Could they remove it?” Abby asked.
“Yes, they think so. We’re still waiting on the biopsy results, but they think it was benign. But he’s still in the hospital, since it was a more invasive surgery, and might not even be home tomorrow. Anyway, I hope you don’t mind keeping Ellie.”
“Of course not,” Abby volunteered quickly. “She’s a great kid.”
“We think so. Can I talk to her? Or is she already in bed?”
“Oops—I forgot to ask if she has a set bedtime. How strict are you about that?”
“Should be about now, but it’s her last week of vacation, so don’t worry about it.”
“Well, she’s still awake, so I’ll go get her.” Abby handed the phone to Ned and set off looking for Ellie. She found her in her bedroom, looking out at the cemetery in the dark. “See anyone?” Abby asked when she walked in.
“Not right now. Do . . . dead people sleep at night, like we do? Or are they just invisible?”
“Ellie, I really don’t know, but it’s a good question. Look, your mom is on the phone, and she wants to talk to you.”
“Okay,” Ellie replied without any emotion. “Downstairs?”
“Yes.” Abby followed Ellie down the stairs and found Ned still on the phone.
“Here she is,” he said quickly, handing off the phone to Ellie.
When Ellie took it, she said, “Hi, Mom,” and then listened. Whatever Leslie was telling her went on for quite a while. Ellie didn’t ask any questions, but said “uh-huh” a couple of times. After a few minutes she handed the phone back to Abby. “She wants to talk to you again.”
Leslie cut straight to the point. “I told her to behave herself and do what you and Ned tell her. I’ll stop by in the morning with some more clothes for her, on my way to the hospital.”
“How much did you tell her?”
“About George? Only that he can’t come home right away, and when he does, he’s going to have to take it easy.”
“Okay, I’ll stick to that. Anything else I need to know about her? Food allergies? She hates baths?”
“Nothing important. She’s not allergic to bee stings and such, and nothing like asthma. Just a normal all-around kid—except for that thing of yours.”
Abby decided to ignore the dig. “Bring a bathing suit—we might find a place to swim.” Abby decided not to mention the Cape, since she wasn’t sure they’d actually go.
“She should like that. Take sunscreen.”
“Of course.”
“Look, I’ve got to go. I’m exhausted, and I need to get some sleep before tomorrow morning. If I remember anything else, I’ll let you know then, okay?”
“Fine. I’ll keep my cell on. Take care of yourself, Leslie, and let me know if you need anything else.”
They hung up at the same time. Ellie hadn’t left the room, but was hovering around the corners, trying to look invisible. Abby took a wild guess and assumed that she wasn’t buying her mother’s “everything is okay” message. “You want some ice cream?” Good job, Abby—when somebody is upset, bribe them with sugar and carbs.
“Okay,” Ellie said with little enthusiasm.
Abby led the way to the kitchen and dragged out a gallon of ice cream. “Vanilla, I’m afraid, but we might be able to find something to add to it.”
“Sprinkles?” Ellie asked with a bit more interest.
“We’ll find out.”
Abby insisted on eating in the kitchen, until she was sure that Ellie could handle sprinkles without spilling them all over the floor. It turned out not to be a problem. “Is Daddy really sick?” Ellie asked.
Abby sighed inwardly. Clearly Ellie picked up on signals a lot of kids her age would miss. Heck, a lot of adults Abby knew would miss them too. “Sweetie, we just don’t know yet. I don�
��t want to pretend everything is fine, but I don’t want you to worry too much either. We’ll just have to wait and see. But your mother or I will tell you as soon as we know anything. All right?”
Ellie nodded without comment, and turned her attention back to her ice cream.
Ice cream consumed, Abby decided to skip the bath and put Ellie to bed. Ellie didn’t object, and even brushed her teeth when Abby found her a new toothbrush. In the bedroom, Ellie said, “You have any books?”
Abby laughed. “Of course I do, although I’m not sure we’ve unpacked a lot of them. What do you like to read?” She was pretty sure there weren’t a lot of kids’ books in the house, but she’d been reading well beyond her grade level at Ellie’s age.
“You have The Hobbit?”
“In fact, I do. Have you read it?”
“Yeah, a couple of times, but I like to reread things sometimes. It’s a nice book.”
“That it is. Do you want me to read it to you?”
“No, I can do it myself. It helps make me sleepy.”
“Then let me go find it.” Abby darted down the hall to the bedroom she and Ned shared, amused that Ellie shared her affection for the book. She’d read it many times, and had made a habit out of rereading the whole Tolkien set every summer since the first time, a decade before. It was easy to find. She grabbed it off the shelf and returned to Ellie’s room and handed it to her. “Here you go.”
“Thank you, Abby. I’ll be all right now. You don’t have to stay.”
“Okay,” Abby said dubiously. “Do you want me to leave the door open? Maybe leave the hall light on?”
“Just a crack, please. Do you wake up early?”
“Yes, I do. It’s peaceful here in the morning. If you’re not awake, do you want me to wake you up?”
“Please. I can help you with breakfast.”
“Then I’ll see you in the morning. Good night, Ellie.”
“Good night, Abby.”
Abby slipped out and pulled the door nearly shut, then went back downstairs. Ned was sitting in the front parlor. “Did Leslie say anything more to you?”
Watch for the Dead (Relatively Dead Book 4) Page 2