by Glass, Debra
Mom met me at the door. “Wren, come into the kitchen a minute. I need to talk to you.”
Was I in trouble? I groped for something I could have done and then I remembered that before Christmas, Mom and David had discussed my starting to drive again. Even though the time had come for me to start driving once more, I dreaded the conversation.
I followed Mom through the dining room and down the hallway to the kitchen. Ella caught up and climbed onto a stool. She dumped her backpack on the granite countertop. Pencils, wadded pieces of paper, notebooks, library books and assorted erasers scattered.
I dragged a stool over to a corner of the bar not already staked out by Ella as Mom pulled a two liter bottle of diet soda out of the refrigerator and began pouring some into a glass. “David and I need to go back to Atlanta for a couple of days.”
The blood drained out of my face. “Did he…take that job?”
Mom studied my expression for several heart-stopping seconds before she said, “No. There are a couple of things he needs to tie up there.”
My shoulders sank with the breath I blew out.
Mom handed me a glass of soda. “Do you think you could take care of Ella? Get her to school and back? Get her to do her homework?”
My lips parted. Mom and David were leaving town? They were leaving me at home? Virtually alone?
This was too good to be true.
“Couldn’t I go to Zoe’s house?” Ella piped up.
Oh please…
Mom shrugged. “I guess I could ask her mother if you would be an imposition,” she said to Ella.
Ella’s brows lowered. “I’m not impositionable!”
Mom chuckled. “An imposition,” she said slowly. “That means trouble.”
“That’s what I said,” Ella reiterated. “I’m not impositionable.”
Mom turned to me and deliberated again. “Would you mind staying here by yourself?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“You wouldn’t be afraid?”
“Of what?”
I should have known better. Ella butted in again. “She’s already made friends with the ghost.”
“Oh, she has?” Mom raised an eyebrow as if it was a secret joke between us that she was playing along with Ella.
I’d learned from experience that it was often better to humor Ella than argue with her.
She pushed her purple glasses up on her nose. “I saw them behind the house like this.” With that, she spun around on the barstool so that her back was to us and hugged herself so all we could see were her hands traveling up and down her sides.
Mom burst into laughter.
I could have died. Despite the urge to crawl under something, I maintained a bland expression. “I think it would be a good idea for you to call Zoe’s mom,” I said as deadpan as I could. “When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow.”
I couldn’t believe my luck. Already, I pondered the things Jeremiah and I could do together in an empty house.
“Wren.” Mom adopted a more serious tone. “There’s something else I need to discuss with you.”
Even though I knew what she was about to propose, nothing could dampen my high spirits. Nothing.
Not even the prospect of getting behind the wheel again.
Mom tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear as she drew open one of the kitchen drawers. My mouth went cotton dry as she pulled out a set of keys.
My keys.
My pulse threatened to run away but I held myself in check. There was no longer anything to fear. I was ready. Jeremiah’s presence in my life had taught me that.
Kira’s death had been an unfortunate, tragic accident. I couldn’t stop living because I felt it should have been me and not her. Now, I understood Fate, the Universe, God—whatever was up there overseeing all this—had Its own crazy design, even if we didn’t always comprehend the meaning at the time.
Mom laid the keys on the counter. “There’s a key to the house on this ring and a key to your car. You don’t have to drive if you don’t want to or if you’re not ready. I’ve left a list of numbers of some of my friends from the country club who will be glad to bring you anything you need or take you anywhere you need to go. I’m sure you have friends who will do the same for you.”
I nodded, thinking of Waylon and his shiny, red truck.
“But when you’re ready,” Mom said, her gaze penetrating mine until I had trouble maintaining eye contact with her. “The keys are here.”
My head bobbed up and down again.
“Wren’s going to drive?” Ella asked. She’d been eavesdropping the entire time.
“If she wants to,” Mom said. “Now, finish your homework and I’ll get you a snack.”
That had been as painless as possible. I’d known the longer I put off driving, the bigger the deal they were bound to make of it when I started back. I appreciated the fact that Mom had just laid out the keys for me whenever I wanted to drive. She could be cool that way.
Conversation over, I hurried upstairs to tell Jeremiah the good news about Mom and David leaving town.
Everything was about to change.
* * * * *
I found the attic door ajar.
My heart skipped erratically as I put my backpack down. I slid into the narrow opening Jeremiah had left for me and then I climbed the attic steps.
My heart ran wild at the sight of him. As I approached the top step, he shot to his feet and smoothed his wavy hair with his hands—as if he thought I preferred it tamed. I smiled.
Excitement flooded me so much I’d forgotten his earlier message and instead of asking him what he needed to talk to me about, I blurted, “Mom and David are leaving town tomorrow. Ella’s staying with a friend. We’ll have the house to ourselves.”
Elated, I rushed into his arms and kissed him. He crushed me in an embrace but his kiss seemed at first, hesitant. Almost desperate. Wonderfully tender. His kiss deepened and he squeezed me so tightly in his ethereal arms, I could scarcely breathe.
“You know I love you,” he whispered, dragging his lips from mine to utter the words.
“Yes,” I said, confused. “Aren’t you excited about spending time completely alone with me?”
He smoothed an errant lock of hair from my face. “Of course. I want few things more than to spend every waking hour with you.”
Already, I tried to figure out a way to skip school without getting caught. I wanted to just disappear in Jeremiah’s arms but a ton of homework loomed over my head. I groaned aloud, thinking about the English paper due tomorrow that I’d been putting off writing.
Jeremiah pinned me with a stare. He knew me all too well. “Homework?”
I laughed. “What else?”
“Shall we?” he gallantly offered me his arm and we started toward the steps.
He often helped me with my homework, especially when he’d kept me awake all night talking. Once, he’d even used automatic writing to take a test on the Constitution for me in government class. Despite Jeremiah’s physical limitations, there were perks to being involved with an invisible man who’d studied law.
I couldn’t think about anything except making plans for the two days we’d have to ourselves. Jeremiah, however, tried to keep me focused on my paper. Although I felt he knew the reason for my distraction, I opted to keep the details of my plans secret from him until tomorrow.
Just thinking about the endless possibilities left me giddy. With no one home but Jeremiah and me, I’d have the chance to tell him exactly how I felt about him—exactly how committed I was to him.
I inhaled. He didn’t know it yet but I intended for the next two days to be our…well…honeymoon.
“Wren, you spelled they’re incorrectly.” Jeremiah’s velvety voice reminded me of the task at hand.
My gaze slid to his. Time was going to crawl until tomorrow afternoon. I couldn’t concentrate on this stupid paper. I only wanted to snuggle into his arms and breathe in that heavenly scent tha
t belonged only to him. Heat crept into my cheeks.
He feigned a grimace. “Concentrate.”
“I can’t.” I let out a flirtatious giggle.
His shoulders rose and fell with an exasperated sigh. “I won’t have you making bad marks in class on my account.”
Bad marks. I loved it when he used old phrases. Warmth unfurled down to my toes and I pushed my pen and notebook aside.
“Wren,” he warned.
I scooted closer.
His lips quivered at the corners as he tried to prevent smiling. “I’ll disappear. I swear it.”
His gaze dropped to my playful pout and then lifted to my eyes again. Victory was close. I inched even closer and suddenly all my mischievousness melted into something poignantly serious.
Even though he wasn’t as brightly colored as a living, breathing human, he was solid enough tonight that I couldn’t see through him. Rendered in indistinct shades of color-tinged gray, he appeared god-like.
Because he was a ghost, Jeremiah’s features betrayed none of the little flaws obvious on most boys my age. No goofy moustache bordered his upper lip, no skin irregularities or zits glared, not even any freckles spattered his cheeks. Instead, only perfection remained.
I wondered if I saw him the way I wanted to see him rather than the way he’d actually looked.
The photo of him on the table beside my bed lay in the line of my peripheral vision.
No. He’d really been—was—that beautiful.
Unable to resist, I cupped his smooth cheek and then drew my fingertips along the sculpted line of his jaw. When he turned his face to press a kiss to my palm his features shifted in and out of focus until he grew still once more.
His gaze locked with mine again and my breath hitched. A twinge of sorrow slid through me that he was not human, that I could not be seen with him, introduce him to my parents, date him…marry him. My regret, however, proved short-lived. Weightlessly, he moved toward me, threaded his fingers into my hair and drew my face to his.
I longed to breathe in, to take what life remained left in him into me and as he moved closer and closer, I expected a passionate kiss. Instead, his mouth merely brushed mine with all the delicacy of a butterfly’s wings.
“If anything ever happens to me,” he whispered against my lips, “know that I did not leave you because I wanted to.”
My desire transformed into terror. I pushed at his shoulders. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Jeremiah, you told me earlier you needed to talk to me.” I suddenly felt sick inside. “Are you…leaving? Are you asking me to cross you over?”
“No.” His quick answer alleviated my fears.
My eyes searched his for something elusive and intangible. “I couldn’t go on without you.”
A tender smile played on one corner of his mouth. “I want to spend the rest of your life with you.”
My heart swelled with love.
“As long as it is in my power, I promise to wait for you,” he said. “To be with you.”
I sucked in a ragged breath. “Always?”
“Always.”
As he traced the shell of my ear with his fingertip, I held his gaze, loving him more than ever, suddenly infused with the knowledge of what I planned to do while my parents were away. But before I drew my next breath, his mouth crushed mine with such intensity I had no choice but to willingly respond.
My body rose against him and I clung, digging my fingers into the wealth of his muslin shirt. I tried my best to temper my desire but as usual, it proved impossible. I burned inside and out, desperately wanting to be more to him—everything.
And I knew that tomorrow night at this time, I would be.
Fourteen
Laura eagerly bobbed up and down when I climbed onto the bus the next morning.
My own excitement mirrored hers. Mom’s and David’s bags waited by the door. They planned to leave as soon as Ella and I got on the bus.
Ella crawled over her little friend to get to the window so she could wave as if Mom could see her all the way up our long driveway. I gave Ella’s friend an apologetic look as I crammed Ella’s garishly pink overnight bag under the seat and then I dropped into my usual seat next to Laura.
“Did you see him last night?” Laura’s gaze moved past me toward our house as if, like Ella, she could see all the way up there from the road.
I nodded. “I see him every night.”
Laura practically swooned. “How romantic!”
Fighting the urge to grin like a jack-o-lantern, I leaned toward her. “My mom and stepfather are leaving town,” I whispered.
Her eyes widened. “When?”
“Today.” Bursting with joy, I held my breath.
Laura’s lips parted as the meaning of what I’d just told her sank in. “Can I come over and meet him this afternoon?”
I hadn’t anticipated having company. I bit my bottom lip and leaned toward her so no one else would hear. “I…I sort of have plans with him.”
A grin stretched across Laura’s face. “Oh, I didn’t think of that. Of course you’d want to be alone with him with your folks gone.”
At the risk of sounding like a lunatic, I ached to tell her about my plans. “I’m going to light candles and make everything romantic and then I’m going to tell him.”
She hung on every word. “Tell him what?”
I took a deep breath. “That I want to be with him.”
Laura’s forehead furrowed. “Be with him? You’re not going to hurt—”
“No!” I shot back, horrified she’d thought I’d do something stupid. “I mean I want to…commit…myself to him.”
She stared, confused.
“Marry him,” I explained.
Her lips rounded. “Marry him?” Her forehead wrinkled. “How?”
I wet my dry lips with the tip of my tongue. “I was awake all night last night thinking about it. I’ve come up with my own vows and if he’s willing, we can have our own little ceremony.”
Laura gaped. The bus bounced through a pothole in the road. “You’re going to marry a…ghost?”
It sounded impossible when she said it like that. Improbably. But in spite of everything, resolve flooded me. My gaze caught the tower of the haunted church as we passed. Something bleak passed through me but I forced the dark thought away. “Yes. I love him. I know he loves me.”
Something about that church wouldn’t let go of me. I twisted to look back at it. The building, that tower and those graves, seemed eerily familiar but I couldn’t quite place it.
“Wren, how are you going to…to marry…a ghost?” she mouthed the last words so that no one else would hear.
My eyes found hers again. Without warning, tears welled in my eyes. I blinked furiously to keep them from falling. “This is crazy. Laura, I’ve lost my mind, haven’t I?”
She laughed. “Yes. But if I were you, I’d do the same thing.”
“Really?” I asked, laughing too. I’d needed someone to agree with me.
She nodded. “Really.”
Her confirmation of my wild scheme confirmed my sense that I’d made the right decision. I knew I was young. Too young to marry. Anyway, legal marriage, even to a ghost, was out of the question. Still, I could share my life with him in the same way two married people shared their lives. There was nothing conventional about my relationship with Jeremiah but I knew in my heart I’d never love another man the way I loved him.
No matter what hardships lay ahead, I wanted to be his wife in every way possible.
“What are you going to wear?” Laura asked.
“My Mom found an old wedding dress in one of the trunks in the attic.”
Laura sighed. “That’s so romantic.” And then her eyes widened dramatically. “Does he know it, yet?”
Nervous energy twittered inside me. “Not exactly.”
She clutched my arm. “Wren! What will you do if he…says…no?”
“He won’t,” I s
aid. “I feel it. I’ve sensed that something is about to change between us.”
“How do you know it’s a good change?”
Again, panic threatened to consume me and I fought it off. It was just my nerves. That was all. “It has to be. He loves me. He told me he would marry me…if he…was alive.”
After last night, I knew what the answer would be. I knew he was as ready as I was. The limitations of his being a spirit and my being mortal no longer presented a hindrance—at least not to me. He and I had both come to terms with what we could be to each other. He’d made the decision to remain here with me despite the fact that he knew his family waited for him in that place.
In doing that, he’d committed himself to me. The least I could do was let him know I felt the same way.
Despite my apprehension, I knew in my heart he would say yes.
“I wish I could be there,” Laura said as the bus rolled up to the front of the school.
As we stood up to get off, anticipation consumed me. I couldn’t wait for school to be over.
Tonight, I would become Mrs. Jeremiah Ransom.
* * * * *
I practically floated into first period thinking of what I would say and how I would surprise Jeremiah with the antique dress. Several candelabras had been left in the house and I would decorate the attic with them. There’d be no time to get a bouquet together but that’d be just as well.
“Do you really think you can keep him?”
Stunned, my gaze shot to Briar’s. She stood by my desk, arms akimbo, looking ready to do battle.
Her black liner-laden eyes narrowed menacingly. “Do you?”
I gulped. “What are you talking about?”
She took a threatening step toward me and shoved my desk. The desk’s metal feet grated on the tile floor as I slid several inches. My notebook tumbled, opening to where I’d hidden Jeremiah’s printed photo in a plastic protector. Briar caught it and thrust it in my face.
“Ladies,” the teacher’s voice boomed in warning as he strode into the classroom.
Briar dropped the notebook on my desk. “He’s a liar,” she seethed and then stormed past me to her desk.
