Connecting (Lily Dale #3)(70)
Not only that, but the plane was teeming with spirits who apparently enjoy hitching rides or stowing away or whatever it is one would call a planeload of unticketed passengers. Calla has never seen so many ghosts concentrated in one place before, and it occurred to her that they might be fueled by all that excess nervous energy among the fearful fliers. She’ll have to ask her grandmother about that someday.
Kevin doesn’t say much else, just drives, but Lisa is full of questions and comments about Calla’s life and her own, as always. Calla does her best to participate in the conversation, just glad Lisa’s not asking about Mom’s death, or what Calla hopes to accomplish by being here this weekend. Either she’s being tactful because Kevin’s in the car, or it’s totally off her radar. Calla would bet on the latter.
They wind their way through the Wilsons’ private gated community just off of Westshore, in Calla’s old neighborhood. The oversized modern homes surrounded by elegant royal palms and manicured lawns look foreign to her now, and she notices that there are very few people outside in their yards or on the street or chatting with the neighbors. Not like in Lily Dale.
“Hey, how’s your dad doing?” Lisa wants to know.
“Oh, he’s actually thinking of leaving California.”
“Are you serious? Does that mean you’re coming back here?”
Lisa sounds so excited at the prospect that Calla feels a twinge of guilt telling her no, and another twinge of guilt when she blames it on her father. “Dad isn’t ready to come back to Tampa yet. He’ll probably rent a place near Lily Dale until the school year is over.”
“I thought you said he’s broke.”
“He is, pretty much.” Not that she thought to ask him about their money situation when he told her about the change of plans. “But everything is a lot cheaper there than it is in California—or here.”
“Yeah, but he wouldn’t have to rent at all if he just came home,” Lisa points out.
“I don’t think he wants to stay in that house just yet. Not after what happened to Mom there. I mean, neither of us could wait to leave after that, remember?”
“I thought you were dreading leaving.”
“Was I?” Suddenly, it’s so hard to recall her pre–Lily Dale life.
“Well, if you come back here you can always stay with us—both of you, even—I kept telling you that before you left for New York.”
Yes, and Calla kept telling Lisa the primary reason why she couldn’t stay with the Wilsons: Kevin.
“Here we are, home, sweet home,” he announces as the Wilsons’ two-story home—stucco, Spanish-style, with a red tiled roof—comes into view.
At the sight of it, a ferocious lump threatens to strangle Calla. They all shared so many good times here. Her life was so normal then, so filled with promise . . .
But it’s as if it all happened to somebody else—and really, it did. Calla is no longer the carefree girl whose biggest concern is whether to wear the white or black bikini to the beach.
Kevin insists on carrying her bag into the air-conditioned house, professionally decorated with warm tropical splashes of color against a pristine white backdrop.
“I’ll put this in the guest room for you, Calla.”
“Thanks.” She waits till he’s disappeared upstairs, then hisses at Lisa, “Jeez, why didn’t you warn me he was coming to the airport?”
“I didn’t know until you were already on your way. Anyway, what’s the big deal?”
She’s right. What’s the big deal?
Sure, Calla once believed Kevin was the love of her life, but he doesn’t mean anything to her anymore. He’s just her friend’s older brother. Period.
Yeah, right.
“Why don’t you go up and get changed?” Lisa offers, eyeing Calla’s jeans and sweater. “You look like you’re all bundled up in that.”
The clothing, which felt too lightweight against the October chill when she got out of her grandmother’s car back at the Buffalo airport a mere few hours ago, does feel much too heavy down here.
“Go ahead. . . . I’ll go get us some Cokes and find those pictures I was telling you about, from Billy Pijuan’s party a few weeks ago.”
“Great!” Calla tries to look as though she can’t wait to check out photos of her old friends, when in reality, she hasn’t missed them all that much.
Only Lisa still feels like a part of her life now. She suspects that the others, though she’s known them since kindergarten, will probably fade into the past now that her era at the elite Shoreside Day School is firmly behind her.
Meanwhile, she’s only known her Lily Dale friends for a month or two, and already they’re among her closest confidantes.
Funny how things change. Funny, and kind of sad.
Alone upstairs, Calla sheds her layers for shorts and a T-shirt, finding that her arms, legs, and feet seem too pale and awkwardly bare. It wasn’t so long ago that she was back in Lily Dale, first growing accustomed to the weight of jeans and fleece after a Florida summer interrupted.
I guess that proves you can get used to anything, Calla thinks as she opens the guest room door, the emerald bracelet reassuringly visible on her wrist.
“Oh, sorry.” Kevin, just coming down the hall and about to crash right into her, stops short.