Awakening (Lily Dale #1)(56)

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 hair 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.