Discovering (Lily Dale #4)(19)

Tune out.

She focuses on Evangeline again, telling her, “I just want you to know that I really am sorry.”

“Thanks. I’m sorry, too, for acting like such a jerk about the whole thing. Do you forgive me?”

“Are you kidding? Of course.”

“Good. You know, the whole time you were away, I wanted to call you and tell you that. Plus, I was kind of worried about you.”

“You were? Why?”

“I don’t know . I just had this feeling . . . you know? Like something might be wrong. So I was really glad to see you yesterday and hear that the trip was fine.”

Far from it, but before Calla can tell her that, Evangeline asks, “So, are you and Jacy . . . ?”

“We’re really good friends.”

“Oh, please. That’s what celebrities tell nosy reporters when they’re madly in love with someone who’s married or their kids’ nanny or thirty years older and filthy rich.”

Calla can’t help but laugh at that. “Jacy is none of those things.”

“Yeah, but you two are more than friends. I’ve seen him looking at you, and you said he kissed you.”

“Okay, we are more than friends. But only if it’s okay with you.”

Why did I say that? Calla wonders as soon as it’s out. Is she really prepared to sacrifice her relationship with Jacy on Evangeline’s say-so?

“Well, it’s not okay with me.”

Great. Here they go again. Now what?

“Gotcha!”Evangeline pokes her in the arm again. “God, you’re gullible.”

Calla grins, relieved. “Good, because I have to say . . .”

“What? You’re head over heels with Jacy and wouldn’t give him up just because I asked you to?”

“That, and it seemed like you and Russell were into each other yesterday, so I don’t know why you would.”

“Oh, Russell. Yeah.”

“Evangeline, are you blushing?”

“No.”

“Yes. You are. Your face is like a tomato. What’s up with Russell? Tell me everything!”

“Got an hour?”Evangeline sighs. “It’s kind of a long story.”

That’s fine with Calla.

Because she has one that’s undoubtedly even longer, but she’s not in the mood to share it—not even with one of her closest friends.

“Before I tell you about me and Russell,”Evangeline says, “I have to ask . . . what do you think about your dad and my aunt getting together?”

“If they do, then I just hope nobody gets hurt.”

“Well, I hope the same thing, but . . . they already are.”

“Hurt?”

“Together.”

Calla raises her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“Last night after I went to bed, I realized I forgot something downstairs, and when I came down, I saw them kissing. They didn’t see me, so I snuck back up.”

“They were kissing?”Calla tries to digest that, but it isn’t easy.

Dad kissing a woman who isn’t Mom.

Then again . . . did she ever see Dad kissing Mom?

Not in a long, long time.

“I wasn’t sure if I should tell you. I don’t want to freak you out or anything.”Evangeline pauses. “Are you freaked out?”

“Pretty much. Aren’t you?”

“Heck, yeah. But, I mean, your dad is so great, and my aunt has been so lonely, and she’s stuck with us. . . . I can’t help thinking that it would be nice for both of them to have someone. Don’t you think?”

“I guess . . .”

“And the other thing is, if your dad falls in love with my aunt, he’ll never want to leave Lily Dale, and you won’t have to, either.”

Calla can’t help but smile. Not because she’s thrilled about her dad and Ramona— because she isn’t sure how she feels about that— but because her friendship with Evangeline is definitely back on solid ground.

“It wouldn’t be the same here without you, Calla.”

“I was just thinking the same thing about you,”she says, and together, they continue on to school on this beautiful morning after the storm.





EIGHT

Lily Dale

Tuesday, October 9

3:32 p.m.

Evangeline had to stay after school for extra help in English, and Jacy had to run with the track team, so Calla walks home by herself beneath a gloriously blue, sunny sky. It must be eighty-five degrees out.

Everyone at Lily Dale High was buzzing about the weather today, even the teachers. Last year at this time, the area was in the midst of its first snowfall.

Calla—who has never seen snow and is looking forward to it—kept her disappointment to herself. She figures it will arrive soon enough, and when it does, it’s notorious for sticking around through late spring.

“Calla! You’re back!”

She looks up to see Paula Drumm waving from the front-porch steps of a gray two-story mansard-roofed cottage with scalloped shingles and green trim. A pair of crutches are propped beside her, and her right ankle— which she broke tripping over her sons’ toys—is outstretched and wrapped in a bandage.

“Hi, Paula! Hi, boys!”she adds, spotting Dylan and Ethan poking little plastic shovels into the grass near the porch. Above their heads is a shingle that reads MARTIN DRUMM, CLAIRVOYANT. The yard, like so many others in the Dale, is crammed with fall-blooming flowers and lawn decorations ranging from garden gnomes to weathervanes.