by Edie Claire
Zane threw me a puzzled look.
“He’s in love with her,” I explained. “He just doesn’t know it yet.”
***
“Hey, check it out,” Zane said with amusement, looking across me and into the front windows of my house, where my parents were dancing the foxtrot in plain view of the entire neighborhood. It wasn’t even dark out yet.
“I don’t need to, thanks,” I replied. “I live with it 24/7.”
“But it’s so great!” he said fondly. “How long have they been married?”
“Thirty-something years. I was what you’d call a ‘midlife surprise.’ And yet, as you can see, they still act like honeymooners. It can get pretty embarrassing sometimes.”
He studied me. “And when I witnessed all this before, and you said something like that, did I tell you you’re an ungrateful brat not to appreciate having parents who are so obviously in love with each other?”
I grinned at him. “Not exactly. What you said was that you wanted what they have.”
His eyes left mine and drifted back to my parents. Maddeningly, he made no response.
“Do you want to come in?” I asked finally.
He smiled and pulled his keys out of the ignition. “I thought you’d never ask.”
An hour later, we were sitting together on the floor of the living room after having managed to unpack, untangle, and reconnect the six billion cords and cables that controlled my mother’s computer workstation. She had made us cups of her famous spiced tea; my father was boring Zane with talk of his days as a fighter pilot. Or at least he was boring me. Zane appeared to be fascinated. Then again, he was an excellent actor.
I was just about to finish the job by figuring out which port my mom’s ancient mouse plugged into when I felt Zane’s hand nudge my leg. I looked up at him, but he seemed absorbed in whatever my dad was saying and I couldn’t catch his eye. Assuming it was an accident, I buried my head back under the desk. He nudged me again. I plugged in the mouse and sat up straight. My dad was still talking a blue streak; but this time, Zane’s eyes flickered toward me ever so briefly. Then he gave a slight nod of his head towards the window.
My dad noticed none of this. My mom was still working in the kitchen. My eyes followed the direction Zane pointed, but I saw nothing interesting either in the room or out the window. The car was parked where he had left it. I looked back at Zane. And then I knew. He was seeing her again. The ghost of the Hawaiian girl.
I looked at the space and concentrated, but could see nothing at all. I opened my senses and tried to feel, but all I picked up was the shadow of the sad woman by the front door. I’d found three shadows in the house so far; thankfully nothing I couldn’t handle. I pulled the blind back down and the woman’s sadness evaporated.
I shook my head as a signal to Zane. He wasn’t looking directly at me, but I knew he would pick it up. No, I can’t see her.
My mother walked in from the kitchen. “Mitch, can you come help me with the deck chairs?”
I smiled up at her warmly. Translation: Mitch, would you shut up and leave them alone for a while?
My dad was not unaware of the ploy. He gave her a wry look and rose with a sigh. “As you wish.”
I exhaled with relief. I knew I should appreciate Zane’s willingness to get to know my parents, and vice versa, but I was impatient to be alone with him again. “The Hawaiian girl?” I whispered as soon as they were both out of sight.
He nodded, seeming troubled.
“Is she still here?”
“No. I could only see her clearly for a couple seconds.” He rose from the floor and went to stand where the ghost had been.
I followed. “What’s wrong?”
“She wants something, Kali,” he insisted, moving his hand through the space as if trying to feel what he could no longer see. “She was… really upset. I felt bad for her.”
I sighed deeply. We had had such an amazing day. This was hardly the ending I had been hoping for. “You can’t let it get to you, Zane,” I pleaded. “Believe me, I know. You’re probably going to see lots of them from now on, and you’re never going to figure them all out, much less be able to do anything for them.”
“I helped out the guy at rehab,” he argued. “Or at least I hope I did.”
I knew I was being selfish. I didn’t care. Couldn’t we, for one full day, be happily alive together and free of spooky, creepy things that weren’t?
“But that guy could talk,” he continued, as much to himself as to me. “Maybe that’s because he hadn’t crossed over yet. You think this girl could be one of the other kind, the ones that have already gone into the light and are trying to come back? It makes sense that it would be more difficult.”
My shoulders slumped. He wasn’t going to let it go.
“The first time I saw her, she looked just like anyone else,” he went on. “She did this time too, at first, but then she started fading out. It was like she couldn’t keep up the effort. She tried to talk, but there was no sound, and whenever she moved, she got blurrier, so I couldn’t read her lips, either.” He ran a hand through his blond curls. “She was trying so hard to tell me something, Kali. But I just couldn’t get it!”
“If you want, I could ask Kylee’s grandmother,” I heard myself say. “About how to communicate with them, I mean.”
He looked at me gratefully. “Would you? She just seemed so… desperate.”
I studied his ridiculously handsome, concerned face, and despite my frustration, my heart melted all over again. How sweet was it that he cared so much about a random ghost?
“I’ll call Kylee tomorrow,” I promised. “But can we forget about it for now? I was thinking maybe, after we finish the computer, we could take a walk around the neighborhood—”
But no, I had lost him again. His eyes had locked on the bookcases, and he was walking towards them. He stopped at the shelf my dad had filled with the family wedding portraits.
I stepped over to join him. “Those are my Greek grandparents,” I began, offering him a tour from left to right. “And that’s my mom and dad, of course.”
“And this?” he asked, picking up the frame to the right and extending it toward me. “Who is this?”
I looked at the picture and got a sinking feeling in my gut. “That’s my grandfather Albin. And my grandmother Kalia.”
I didn’t need to hear his next words. I could tell what he was going to say from the look on his face.
“The Hawaiian girl,” he said in a whisper. “It’s her. Your grandmother Kalia.”
***
The set up could have been perfect.
Zane and I were sitting in folding patio chairs on my lanai. The sun was setting behind us, and purple shadows fell slowly over the green peaks to the northeast. A few gray clouds rolled lazily toward the windward side, but the balmy breeze was mild.
We could have spent the last hour getting to know each other better — the real me and the real him, as we were now, in the present. Instead, both our minds were mired in the past again.
He held my DNA analysis results in his hands. I had told him everything.
“So what do you think she wants?” I asked weakly, slumping in my chair. I wasn’t sure how a person was supposed to feel upon finding out that the ghost of a long-dead relative had been hanging out in their living room. But it certainly seemed like I should feel positively toward the soul of a woman I had spent my entire life idolizing.
Instead, all I felt was aggravation.
“I wish I could answer that,” Zane said sympathetically. “She was standing so close to your dad — hovering, almost. Her body language was very protective. I thought that was weird, but it makes sense now. He’s her son. She loves him.”
His words made me uncomfortable. I had no idea why. “You said she seemed desperate. Desperate how?”
He leaned back in his own chair and closed his eyes. “I’m trying to remember. The way she looked at him, and then at me… it was like she was afraid
of something.” After another moment, he opened his eyes and sat up. “She wanted me to do something, Kali. I just can’t imagine what.”
Afraid of something.
Kylee’s grandmother had spoken specifically of the ghosts of loved ones returning. What had she said?
My Tien appeared to Kylee to save her from death.
Death!
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“Kali?” Zane said quickly. “Are you all right? What is it?”
I couldn’t answer. I didn’t want to think what I was thinking. But knowing what had happened to Kylee, what had almost happened to her, how could I ignore it?
“Kali?” Zane repeated.
I sprang up from my chair. I had no idea where I was going. My legs felt weak. My head swam. I think I began to sway.
The next few moments were a muddle. One second I was sure my knees were going to buckle, the next I was enveloped in the most soothing warmth imaginable. Zane had me; he was holding me against his chest. The same magnetic, irresistible force pulled me closer to him, and without thought I buried my face in the crook of his shoulder and inhaled the scent of him. I was safe and all was good, and time was standing still…
If he hadn’t set me back down in the chair, I would never have let go of him.
“Sorry about that,” I croaked, my former panic returning immediately.
“What scared you so much?” he demanded, crouching beside my chair. “Tell me!”
“It’s my dad,” I answered weakly. “I’m afraid he may be in danger. I think that’s what Kalia is trying to tell you.”
“What sort of danger?”
I shook my head. “I have no idea.”
I told him everything I could remember about my conversation with Kylee and her grandmother. He told me everything he could remember about Kalia’s ghost.
Neither one of us had the faintest idea what we could do about it.
“There has to be more,” Zane said finally. “Think about it. She didn’t appear just to worry you. She wants us to do something specific, but she hasn’t been able to communicate it yet. Maybe she’s trying to gather strength. Maybe she needs more time to make her message clear.”
“Does my dad have time?” I asked miserably.
“He must,” Zane said firmly. “Or she wouldn’t be doing it like this. She knows things we don’t know… I think we just have to trust her and wait for more.”
“Well, I don’t trust her!”
The hostility in my voice rang in the air like a pistol shot. Embarrassed as I was to have Zane hear that anger, I knew I couldn’t hold it in anymore. “I guess all this DNA stuff has had more of an effect on me than I thought,” I admitted.
“What do you mean?” he asked gently.
“I wasn’t just named after Kalia,” I tried to explain, my eyes tearing up. “When I was growing up, she was my hero. It was such a sweet, sad story. She was so young and beautiful, but she came from a large family that was so poor she was sent out to work while she was still in high school. She fell in love with a tall, dashing Air Force officer, they got married, my dad was born, and she died tragically when their son was still too little to remember her. But my grandfather never stopped loving her — even after he remarried, he made sure that my dad always kept their wedding picture out to remember her by.”
I drew in a shaky breath. “But it was all a lie.”
Zane was silent a moment. “You don’t know that.”
“Don’t I?” I said sharply, swiping away the tears on my cheeks. “I remember my grandfather. He was the sweetest, gentlest man alive. He used to let me take my afternoon nap cuddled up in his lap in the big armchair while he watched TV. I would ask him about the Kalia I was named for, and he would tell me how beautiful she was, and how smart, and how loving. And he would tell me he was sure I would grow up to be just like her!”
I gave up fighting the tears. “She and my grandfather met at Christmastime,” I continued bitterly. “They dated for months before my dad was conceived. Months! Albin loved her so much. And she let him think the baby was his! She married him, for God’s sake. She let him raise my dad as his own — she made them both live a lie!”
“You don’t know that,” Zane repeated, this time more firmly. “I know it looks that way, but you’re making a lot of assumptions, and all of them for the worst. There are other possibilities.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know,” he answered. “But can’t you give her the benefit of the doubt? There’s one thing I do know, because I saw it with my own eyes. She loves your father very much.”
I tried to get a grip on my emotions. Really, I did. I had never been a crybaby and I certainly didn’t want to start now, at the end of such an otherwise amazing day. But I had bottled up my feelings about Kalia for too long, and now that the dam had finally burst, I couldn’t stop the flood. I struggled, and lost, and cried, and struggled again. “Could you please just smack me or something?” I said with a hiccup.
Zane chuckled. “Sorry. Not happening.” Instead he rose, disappeared into my room, and returned with a handful of tissues. “Here.”
I accepted the offering and made another effort to pull myself together, this one mighty. I could not let the day end like this. Zane had all the answers he wanted from me now. Unless his feelings for me were turning into something more than just memories, he had no further incentive to humor me, particularly not now that I had turned into such a blubbering idiot. I opened my mouth to apologize, but before I could get the words out, he interrupted me.
“So, what time would you like your swimming lesson tomorrow?” he asked. “I was thinking we’d go back to Turtle Bay this time, if the surf’s calm enough.”
Tomorrow.
I sniffled. “What time works for you?”
“How about noon again?” he offered. “I’ll pick you up. And I really hate to say this under the circumstances, but I’ve absolutely got to get out of here — like now. It’s getting late, this lanai is technically part of your bedroom, and I’d hate to start off on the wrong foot with the Colonel.” He pulled his keys from his pocket.
Start off?
I liked the sound of that. “You want me to walk you out?” I asked, rising and following him back inside.
He smiled at me, amused. “Um… no offense, but I’d rather you didn’t. If we went downstairs together with you looking like that, I might not get out alive.”
I looked in my mirror. My hair was wild, my cheeks were streaked with red, and my eyes were puffed up like sausages.
I laughed out loud. “Wuss!” I accused.
“Guilty as charged,” he agreed, moving towards the stairs. “I’ll see you tomorrow. And about your dad — try not to worry too much. We’ll figure it out, I promise. Goodnight, Kali.”
There was no question of a goodnight kiss. He was standing six feet away. I wasn’t surprised or disappointed, since the mood obviously wasn’t right. But there was something about his expression that encouraged me. He looked… well… almost nervous.
What exactly had he felt when he caught and held me? It had been the first time since our reunion hug that we’d touched any more than holding hands. Did he feel the same heady, nearly overwhelming pull of attraction? Is that why he’d dumped me so quickly back in my chair?
I had no way of knowing. But a girl could dream.
“Goodnight,” I returned, smiling.
Chapter 17
That night, exhausted, I dropped off into a deep, dreamless sleep the minute I crawled into bed. It was not until morning, when the warm rays of tropical sunshine began to stretch through the glass door to my lanai and fall upon my pillow, that my brain began to stir again. My mother was in the room.
“I’m getting up,” I said lazily, only reluctantly opening my eyes. “I know, I know… I promised I’d get back to work early. What time is it?”
My sight came into focus, but my mother wasn’t there. Why had I thought she was? I could hear the te
levision downstairs; the air smelled of bacon, toast, and coffee. I sat up and stretched. Maybe she had called up the steps for me.
My head jerked suddenly to my left. Someone was watching.
No one was there.
I stared into the empty space. And then, in an instant, I knew.
“Kalia,” I breathed.
No human form was visible to me. At most, what my brain translated from my eyes was a mild disturbance in the air — like a video with one area pixelated. But I was aware of her presence. It radiated with an aura I could only classify as “maternal.” The breakfast aromas from below became mixed with the scent of ginger.
“What do you want?” I croaked, my insides churning with conflicting emotions. “Is Dad in danger? Show me!”
The presence shifted. It moved from my bedside to the far wall of the room, then hovered over a stack of still-packed banker’s boxes. I rose and walked to them.
I lifted the lid of the box on top, my arms actually sliding through the presence to do so. I couldn’t feel her like I could feel the shadows. But still… there was something. Reading her feelings was like trying to watch a movie in a foreign language: the words were gibberish, but sometimes, if you were paying attention, you could get the gist.
She was insistent. Practically frantic.
It was her box. The box of her memories and mementos. I pulled out what I knew to be lying tucked in the folds of her wedding dress ever since I had stashed it there last night: my DNA results.
“I know Albin wasn’t my biological grandfather,” I said stiffly. “But how does that put my father in danger?”
The presence grew agitated. The pixilations seemed to grow denser; I could no longer see through her clearly. But neither could I make any sense of her image.
“Look,” I said, getting frustrated myself. “If all you’re worried about is him finding out, then forget about it. I don’t plan to tell him. It would destroy him, as you should know!”
The blurry area became still thicker, creamier. It seemed almost to bounce upon the box. I heard nothing with my ears, but I was certain the presence was screaming.
