Believing (Lily Dale #2)(15)

Maybe even something to do with . . .

Mom’s death?

I have to tell Dad about this, Calla decides . . . just as a chill drifts into the room.

Shivering, she realizes she isn’t alone. She looks around, expecting to see an apparition.

The kitchen is empty.

But the presence is as real as the goose bumps prickling the back of her neck.

Aiyana, Calla finds herself thinking.

It’s her. She’s here.

She doesn’t know how she knows that. She just does. She can feel her.

And she doesn’t want me to tell Dad about Darrin. Because he doesn’t know. Mom kept it a secret.

Calla isn’t sure how she knows that; the thought seems to have been placed in her mind by the invisible presence.

“Calla,” Dad says, “you should know that your grandmother loved you. And your mother, too. Whatever happened . . . well, it was a terrible shame. All those lost years.”

“So Mom really never spoke to Gammy again?”

“Not that I know of. She was really upset. What did they argue about? Do you remember? Because at the time it didn’t seem that important, but lately . . .”

When he trails off, Calla prods him, “What, Dad? Lately, what?”

“I don’t know. There are just some things . . . your mom—” He cuts himself off. “I shouldn’t even be talking about this with you. And none of it matters anyway. I was just curious if you remembered what your mom and Odelia argued about.”

The only way we’ll learn the truth is to dredge the lake.

Should she tell him?

No. Aiyana doesn’t want her to say anything. Calla senses that somehow.

Anyway, his grief is as raw as her own; he doesn’t need to dwell on anything even more painful than losing his wife in an accidental fall.

“I don’t really remember,” she tells him, with only a faint prickle of guilt. It’s for his own good. She has to protect him. At least, for now.

Her father sighs heavily. “Yeah, well, like I said, it doesn’t matter. Anyway . . . the real reason for this call—aside from seeing how you did in your new school today—is that Jet Blue is running a weekend fare sale. I can fly to New York City and connect. What do you think about that?”

“You mean . . . connect to here?”

He laughs. “Well, Buffalo. That’s close enough. I need to hug my girl.”

His girl.

He used to call Calla and her mother his girls.

Now I’m all he has. And he’s all I have.

Well . . . she has Odelia, too.

Odelia—Gammy—does love her.

And she did love Mom. That’s obvious. No matter what happened between them, Odelia loved her.

So what on earth happened to drive mother and daughter apart?

Why don’t you just ask?

This time, the thought didn’t come from Aiyana.

No, Calla realizes, the presence—and the chill—have evaporated.

So . . .

Why doesn’t she just ask her grandmother what happened?

Maybe I will, she tells herself. Meanwhile . . .

“I’d love to see you, Dad,” she hears herself say before it occurs to her that she just made a terrible mistake.

If her father comes to Lily Dale, he’s going to realize what goes on around here and haul her back to California with him on the next plane out.

“I know how busy you are, though,” she adds hastily, “and I’ll be out there soon enough, so I don’t want to make you spend all that money just to—”

“Calla, this is costing me less than two hundred bucks round-trip and I’ve already got my ticket. I’ll be there Friday.”

“Next Friday?” Okay, that’ll give her only a week to figure things out, but—

“No,” he says, sounding pleased with himself, “this Friday. Day after tomorrow.”





FIVE

Thursday, September 6

7:55 a.m.

“Oh, before I forget to tell you,” Evangeline says as they walk into school the next morning under surprisingly warm sunshine, “I can’t walk home with you today. I have to stay after.”

“For what?” Calla asks, running a hand through her bangs and wishing she could get a haircut.

“There’s a meeting for anyone who plans to run for student council officer. Hey, want to come?”

Calla smiles at the invitation. “Considering I’ve gone to this school for, like, twenty-four hours and I’m not even staying the whole year, probably not a great idea. Anyway, I’m going over to Paula’s to babysit, remember? But I promise I’ll vote for you.”

“Thanks. I really want to win, because if you’re an officer senior year, you’re an officer forever. You know . . . you get honored at the reunions and everything. My dad was class president when he went to school here.”

That makes Calla wonder about her own mom, and her smile fades.

As she and Evangeline part ways and she heads toward her locker, she thinks about how little she knows about what her mother was like in high school. Not just the stuff involving Darrin. But all of it. Like whether Mom was a class officer, and whether she ever had Mr. Bombeck for math.

It’s not earth-shattering information. Just everyday details. The kind you barely notice when they come up in conversation with someone.