Awakening (Lily Dale #1)(58)

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: cute 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.

Which is exactly what I thought she was, too, before I got to know her, Calla reminds herself uncomfortably, as she watches Lisa give her blond hair a final pat and set her brush on the bureau.

Calla removed all Mom’s old pictures before Lisa got here. In part because she doesn’t really want to share them with anyone, and in part because she was afraid of another ghostly middle-of-the-night incident. Lisa has been sharing her room, sleeping in Mom’s old bed while Calla sleeps on a cot Odelia borrowed from Andy.

Calla hasn’t set up her new digital clock yet, worried that it, too, might trigger something supernatural. Then again, she was having the dream even after she got rid of the old clock, and she hasn’t had it since Lisa got here.

“I just have to put on some lotion,” Lisa tells her, checking her reflection again in the mirror. “My skin gets so dry when I fly.”

Calla rolls her eyes and watches Lisa rummage through her crowded toiletries bag. She pulls out a tube and squirts some lotion onto her palm.

As she rubs it into her skin, Calla sniffs, realizing the room is filling with a hauntingly familiar scent. There’s no telltale chill in the air this time, but the floral perfume is unmistakable.