by Tifani Clark
CHAPTER 14
Physically and emotionally drained the next morning, I forced myself to get up, get dressed, comb my hair, and put on some makeup. After all, I would be seeing Peter. I trudged down the stairs to where Dad stood in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he greeted me.
“Mornin’, Dad,” I mumbled.
“What are your plans for the day?”
“Cam and Sophia are coming over in a little while. We’ll probably hang out somewhere.”
“Sounds fun. I need to get some paperwork done this morning and then mow the lawn this afternoon. The rain we got last week is making the grass grow like weeds.”
I sat down with a bowl of cereal and noticed for the first time the bouquet of brightly-colored tulips sitting in the middle of the table, reminding me it was Memorial Day. My eyes skimmed past the vase and into the living room where the urns of my father’s parents sat on the mantle of our fireplace. They both died when I was very young and their cremated bodies had always sat in a prominent position in the living room, but I hadn’t ever really given them much thought. My mom’s parents were dead, too, but I think they were buried in Ft. Lauderdale or something like that. I wasn’t exactly sure. Since Dad’s parents were cremated and we didn’t have a headstone to visit on Memorial Day he always brought home a bouquet of fresh flowers for the house instead to help us remember. I thought it was a sweet gesture. As I sat there eating my cereal, I wondered if Grandpa and Grandma Peters had ever been ghosts, hanging around their bodies in our living room. I hoped not. The thought gave me the creeps.
Peter arrived first. We’d all agreed to meet at 10:30 and he rang the bell at 10:25. Dad’s eyes widened when he saw who was standing on the front porch and he looked at me quizzically.
“Mr. Ashby. It’s nice to see you. I don’t think you’ve come over since you and Jamie were in grade school. How have you been?”
I blushed. My dad was completely embarrassing me. There had been one birthday party of mine when I was young—ten, maybe?—that Mom actually planned and attended. She invited everyone in my class so that included Peter. It was true that the party was probably the last time he’d been over even though his parents and my dad were acquaintances in the academic world. Peter’s parents were archaeologists and traveled the world researching this and that, often presenting their findings at the nearby universities. They went on a lot of speaking tours across the country and I think Peter was alone a lot.
“It’s nice to see you, Mr. Peters.”
“How are your parents doing?”
“Great, I guess. They’re on a cruise ship somewhere in the south Pacific right now.”
“Ahh . . . research or pleasure?”
“Supposedly pleasure, but if I know them they’ll find something to study when they get off the boat.”
We were still standing in the doorway when Sophia pulled up to the curb. I was glad there would be someone else to join in the awkward conversation. Camille jumped out of Sophia’s car, too. I was relieved that the two of them had become friends. It made my job as the supposed soul saver a little easier. They greeted my dad and the four of us ventured into my backyard where we took up residence on the patio furniture. Camille lay down on a chaise lounge chair and Sophia sat at the table. I sat on the porch swing and blushed yet again when Peter sat down next to me.
“So what’s the big news you have for me?” Sophia asked.
Camille was about to bubble over with that news, but I wanted to tell Sophia gently.
“Well, there’re a couple of things. First, I did a little more research at the Newton library in New Bedford yesterday. I found out where the final resting place of the Mary Celeste is.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“That’s so neat. Where is it? Can we all go there together? Maybe I’m meant to say goodbye to the ship and the memories of it before I’m extricated. This could be my unfinished business.”
“It’s in Haiti.”
“Haiti?” Peter exclaimed.
I guess I’d forgotten to tell Peter and Camille that part of the story. The part where Nick suddenly reappeared kind of overshadowed the rest of what I’d learned.
“I don’t think there’s any way my parents would let me take off for Haiti,” Camille said. “Besides, don’t you have to have some sort of special visa or something like that to even get into that country?”
“I’m not sure. Are you thinking of Cuba? I think maybe you can get into Haiti with just a normal passport, but that doesn’t really matter. Dad would never let me go either.”
“The sad thing is that my parents would probably think it was a great idea for me to go, even with the cholera, kidnappings, and crime they have there.” Peter sighed.
“I think this is something Sophia is going to have to do on her own,” I said.
“I can’t believe it. This could really be the answer. I would miss all of you if I disappeared, though,” Sophia reassured us.
“There’s more, Sophia, but I’m not really sure how to tell you. Umm . . . have you ever wondered if Nick didn’t come back for you because maybe he couldn’t?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You said he gave Jeremiah a note when he left. What if that wasn’t true? What if he wasn’t really the one that wrote it? Did you actually see the note?”
Sophia raised her eyebrows and shook her head.
“That’s what I thought.” I smiled.
“Jamie, if you have something to tell me, please do so. Now.”
“Sophia, Nick is still here.”
“What? That’s not funny.”
“I saw him yesterday, Sophia. He’s a ghost.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true. He found me in New Bedford. He thinks I’m his soul saver, too.”
“You’re not going to help him, are you?” she said accusingly.
“Actually, I am. Sophia, you need to listen. He told me what happened all those years ago and I believe him. His story is just as tragic as yours.”
“Tragic? Let me guess. He met someone in town that was prettier than me so he decided to run away with her instead, but then she didn’t want him after all and he was left all alone. Oh . . . poor Nick.” She mockingly put her hands on her cheeks and shook her head. Apparently she hadn’t forgiven him.
“Sophia, he was killed at the same time as you.”
“You’re not making any sense,” she yelled.
“Your father, I mean Jeremiah, found out about your plans and had him kidnapped. Then, on the night of your wedding, he shot him.” I yelled, too.
My dad opened the patio door and stuck his head out. “Is everything okay out here?”
“We’re fine, Dad. Sorry if we disturbed you.” I didn’t sound very sincere and I wouldn’t look him in the eye.
His eyes lingered on Sophia, who was wiping away tears, but he didn’t say anything and went back inside. I continued. “Sophia, it might sound like a made-up story, but I believe him. He was really upset when I told him about what happened to you and he feels awful. He didn’t know you were a ghost. He wants to see you today.”
Camille and Peter had remained silent during our exchange, but Peter finally chimed in. “Sophia, I think you should see him. What if Nick is the reason why you haven’t been able to move on? Maybe the two of you were really meant to be together and it just took this long to find each other again.”
“I’m scared.”
“If he’s as cute as you described, what’s there to be scared of?” Camille asked.
We all looked at her like she had lost her mind, but then Sophia laughed, and the rest of us joined in. It helped.
“Sophia, he still loves you. He’s been following the Goodwins for years because he wanted to stop them from hurting other people.”
“Wait . . . is he the other person that the cemetery ghosts said was asking about Sophia?” Camille asked.
“I had
n’t thought about that until now, but I’m sure you’re right, Cam.”
“Where’s Nick now?” Sophia whispered.
“He’s planning on meeting us at the high school at two.”
“Oh, man,” Camille moaned.
“What’s the problem?” I asked.
“My parents made me promise to be home by one. We’re having our annual Memorial Day barbecue with my mom’s sisters and their families.”
“That sucks. I’m glad I’m not you.” Peter grinned at Camille who glared at him in return.
“This is going to be the reunion of the century—literally—and I’m going to miss it.” Camille was distraught, but the rest of us found her reaction kind of funny.
“You better promise to bring Nick over as soon as you reunite. I’m dying to meet him. Uhh . . . no offense about the whole dying thing.”
“No offense taken.” Sophia stood up. “Okay, if I’m really going to go through with this, I want to go change my clothes and freshen up a little before it’s time to go. Do you need a ride home, Camille?”
I couldn’t think of anything Sophia could possibly do to make herself look better. She had her thick blond hair pulled into a ponytail that showed off her long neck, and she wore cute khaki capris with a yellow tank top. As usual, her makeup was impeccable.
“Yeah, I guess I’ll go with you,” Camille grumbled. They excused themselves and I found myself alone with Peter on the patio swing. We gently kicked our legs and swung back and forth. The light breeze blew my hair around and brought with it the faint smell of the last of the lilac blooms. The birds were chirping—or was it angels singing—and I smiled. We weren’t alone for long before Dad reappeared and asked what we’d done to chase away our other friends.
“I was just about to make sandwiches for everyone,” he said.
“Thanks, Dad, but Cam had to get home. Their family has a yearly Memorial Day barbecue at her house.”
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot they do that. Can I make the two of you something to eat?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
Dad brought ham sandwiches and a green salad out to the patio table and the three of us began to eat. He and Peter conversed easily, but I found myself continuously blushing. I thought I’d gotten past that. I think it had something to do with my dad seeing me with a boy for the first time. I struggled to hide how I felt about Peter, and I think Dad realized that I wasn’t his innocent little girl anymore. I was relieved when Sophia returned and we had an excuse to leave.
I’d previously thought Sophia didn’t need improving, but when she came back she was absolutely stunning in an orange sundress with little white flowers embroidered on the hem. Her hair was curled and gently cascaded down her back, tied with an orange ribbon the color of her dress. I was excited for her, but she was a nervous wreck, continuously clasping and unclasping her hands.
We piled into her car with Peter riding shotgun. I was getting anxious myself and my palms began to sweat. I worried that maybe Nick had been making up stories and was just trying to find a way to ferret Sophia out. What if we show up at the football field to find the Goodwins waiting for us? I would feel horrible if I’d led Sophia into more pain and possibly danger.
The football field looked a lot different than it did when school was in session and games were being played. It was usually full of students and laughter and noise. That afternoon it was eerily quiet. Sophia parked her car near one of the entrances and we all climbed out. I unlatched the gate separating the parking lot from the bleachers and field. I wasn’t really sure how to proceed so I led our little group out to the fifty yard line and we looked around, waiting for something to happen.
I saw him first. He appeared about ten feet behind us, looking just as nervous as Sophia. He wore dark blue jeans and a button up shirt. His dark hair was combed in a stylish haphazard way. He looked like a male model on the cover of some magazine standing there with such a serious look on his face. He gave me a questioning look and I smiled and nodded, trying to assure him that it was okay.
“Sophia?”
She closed her eyes before turning around.
“Nick?”
Twelve and a half decades melted away in just moments. Nick closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye and then they were embracing—laughing, crying, hugging.
