thenââ
âKendall,â he says. âI donâtâ Iâm notââ He takes in a deep breath, and then I see some of his anger fade away.âWhy did you go to see your mom? I understand that you would want to, but why now? And why didnât you talk to me about it?â
I look down at my hands. âI donât know. I just . . .â I think of telling him about the ghosts. Maybe he could help me. Maybe he already knows. But I canât say the words out loud. âItâs complicated,â I finally say.
He nods. âI know youâre at an age when you might be starting to have questions about your mother. I guess I just thought . . .â He sighs.
We sit there in silence for a moment, the only sound the hum of the engine. âDo you and Mom . . . Do you guys talk all the time?â I ask finally.
He shakes his head. âNot all the time. She calls me once in a while, yes.â
âHow often?â
âNot very. Maybe once a year.â
âSince when?â
âSince she left.â
âWhy didnât you tell me?â
âBecause I didnât want you to think . . .â He trails off, but I know what he was about to say. He was going to say that he didnât want me to think it meant that my mom wanted to be a part of my life. âShould we go inside and talk about this?â he asks.
âNot right now.â I shake my head. Iâve changed mymind. Itâs too raw. âCan we . . . Can we do it later?â
âOkay.â I can see the pain on my dadâs face, and I can tell how hard this is for him. Neither one of us moves, and then my dad finally says, âIâm going to go for a drive and clear my head.â
âOh. Okay.â I swallow, then reach out and open the car door. âWell, um, drive safe.â
I get out and close the car door behind me. I hear my dad pulling out as I head inside.
*Â Â *Â Â *
The house feels empty without my dad. I know most of it is in my mind, because itâs not like Iâve never been home alone before.
I wander around for a little while, not sure what to do with myself.
I fix myself some cookies and milk.
I make myself a ham and cheese sandwich. I nibble on the inside and then throw the crusts away.
I bring my cookies into the living room and flip through the channels on the TV, but thereâs nothing good on.
âHey,â a voice says softly, and I scream.
Itâs Lily.
Great.
Why is it that even though Iâm feeling lonely, the one person I donât want to see shows up?
âWhatâs wrong?â she asks, sitting down next to me.
âOh, nothing,â I say sarcastically. âJust maybe everyone I ever cared about in my life hates me or is disappointed in me or thinks I might be crazy.â I pick up an Oreo and dunk it into my milk angrily. I wait until the chocolate part gets good and mushy before popping it into my mouth.
âIâm sure thatâs not true,â Lily says, like Iâm being dramatic.
âYes, it is.â
âYou want to talk about it?â
âNo.â I really donât. And itâs not just because sheâs Madisonâs sister. It wouldnât matter who she was. I donât want to talk about whatâs going on, because Iâm sick of thinking about Ellie and Brandon and now my dad. I need a distraction. I need to focus on something other than myself. I need to get out of here.
âCome on,â I say to Lily. âWeâre going to the cemetery.â
*Â Â *Â Â *
âI love cemeteries,â Lily says as we walk across the street. Sheâs surprisingly upbeat for a ghost. I mean, most ghosts are all freaked out about the fact that theyâre dead, and they get even more freaked out when you bring them to the cemetery. They think theyâre going to get buried alive or something. Which is pretty