She drops my hands and leans back in her chair. “Your sister is searching for something,” Nona says. “She won’t leave until she finds it. I’m picking up helplessness from her—and fear. Great fear.”
Nona pulls some tissues out from her cleavage under the housecoat and mops her face. “Luka, I need to lie down and rest before my afternoon appointments. Can you help me?”
Luke nods and helps Nona stand. “I can’t lead your sister to the light; she won’t see it until she finds what she’s looking for. You come back again, and I will see if I can talk with her when I’m feeling stronger.”
“Don’t go,” Luke says softly to me, and then he leads Nona out of the room.
“What are you looking for, Remy?” I whisper, watching her rocking back and forth on her heels.
“Hey, let’s go outside where we can talk,” Luke says when he returns. I follow him out through the back of the house to a gazebo surrounded by tall grass and wildflowers.
“How are you feeling?” he asks as we take a seat on the cushioned bench.
“I don’t know why, but I actually feel better than I have in a long time. I thought talking about the accident would make me feel worse, but …”
Luke nods. “Among other things, Nona’s an empath— she takes away people’s pain. It’s not permanent or anything, and it really knocks it out of her, but you should be feeling pretty good for a while.”
“Oh, great, so I pretty much beat up your grandmother?”
A half smile creeps across his face and he runs his fingers through his hair. “Pretty much, but she asked for it.”
My shoulders slump. “I am so sorry. I never would have let her do that if I knew. I just came here to see you. I was hoping you could help me with Remy.”
He looks up toward his house, and then back at me. “About that. I want to help you, but I have to be careful because Nona doesn’t actually know I inherited the spooky gene. As far as she’s concerned, I’m as psychic as the ceramic kittens hanging on the side of the house over there.”
I stare at him incredulously. “But how can she not know? From what I just experienced, I’d be surprised you could hide anything from her.”
Luke looks at the house again and shrugs. “I guess I’m a pretty good actor. There’ve been a few close calls—it’s not easy pretending not to notice nasty stuff racing around a room.”
I give him a look. “Tell me about it.”
Luke smiles. “Yeah, I guess you know what I’m talking about.”
“But I don’t understand. I have to pretend Remy doesn’t exist so I don’t get put under heavy sedation and carted off to the loony bin.” I shake my head. Given what happened last night, I should probably be on alert for ambulance drivers lurking in the bushes, waiting to ambush me. “But all this ghost stuff is just part of your DNA—why hide it?”
Luke laughs. “Because I don’t want to spend my life listening to people who want to know if their dearly departed think they should cut the spoiled grandkids out of their will, or if they really meant to leave all of their money to the dog.”
I look at him with wide eyes. “Seriously?”
“Sadly, yes. There’s this one woman who comes in just about every other week to talk to her dead mother about whether or not she should change her hair color or break up with the guy she’s dating. And some man came in two days ago with his Siamese cat, Mr. Bootsie, to see if Nona could ask it if his wife is cheating on him.”
“Was she cheating?”
Luke shakes his head. “We have many talents, but communicating with pampered pets is not one of them.” He shrugs. “I grew up watching a parade of people come to my house needing spiritual guidance for the most mundane things, and I knew I didn’t want to go there. I pretended not to see the ghosts, and Nona directed all of her attention on training my sister.” Luke bows his head.
“Ari told me about Kayla,” I say quietly. Luke doesn’t say anything, and that calm feeling I had starts to ebb. I purse my lips and wonder if Luke is grouping me with all the other nuts who come here for help. “You know, I should go. I didn’t want to bother you, I just …”
I start to rise and he puts a hand on my arm, sending an electric shock through me. “Don’t go. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t want you here. I’m actually really glad you came.”
“You can read minds too?”
He gently tugs on my arm and I sit down again. “Not exactly, but with someone like you, I can get a general sense of how they’re feeling.”
“Someone like me?”
“Someone who sees ghosts. People who are closed to that plane of existence are really hard to read, but you’re pretty transparent—no pun intended—and when I met you in the costume room, it wasn’t hard to pick up on the fact that you were terrified.”
I picture the girl lying on the forest floor and nod. “When Remy came to me in that room she showed me something—something really horrible. And ever since, she’s been popping up more and more, and freaking out, and I don’t know why or what to do.”
He takes my hand, and a warm, prickling sensation runs through me. I think of Ryan and feel guilty for a second until I remind myself that this is just business to Luke. I let the feeling of calm radiate from his hand and know he’s doing what Nona did—taking away my pain. I know it isn’t fair to dump this on him, but it feels so good to be free from the pain for a while.
“What did she show you?” he whispers. “Picture it so I can see it too—take in all of the details.”
He takes my other hand and leans in closer to me, making me catch my breath for a second. I feel connected and close to him. I close my eyes. I see the girl and force myself to really look at her. Her outfit is different from anything that was on the rack in the costume room. The blouse, soaked in blood, is very detailed with eyelet trim and embroidered flowers across the top edge, instead of the garish red satin trim on the costumes.
Part of the blouse is unlaced and pulled aside to expose the jagged hole in her chest. I quickly move up to her face and gasp for a second, thinking it’s me, but it’s just a girl with dark hair like mine. The pale skin on her cheeks is spattered with blood, and her lips are parted—with more blood trickling down from one corner. Her blue eyes stare blankly up at the sky. I look away from her face and see the leaves and dirt of the forest floor marked with crimson.
I shake my head to erase the image and push up from the bench to stand at the rail of the gazebo. Tears sting my eyes as I look out on the gardens, trying to fill my mind with images of flowers instead of the dead girl’s stare. “Why would Remy show me that?”
The bench creaks, and Luke stands next to me, exhaling loudly. “Wow. That was the last thing I was expecting. I’ve seen some pretty weird stuff before, but …”
“I probably should’ve warned you.”
“Yeah, a little heads-up might’ve been nice. I gotta say, I’m surprised how well you’re keeping it together. I would’ve figured something like that might have you a little more freaked out.”
My eyes follow a butterfly flitting around in front of us, and I shrug. “Telling myself everything’s A-OK—no matter how freaky it gets—has been my mantra since Remy came back just after the accident. She was lying in her bed right next to mine, singing.
“For a second I thought the crash was just a dream and Remy was still alive and my dad wasn’t in the hospital. I was so happy, I called out for my parents. Only, my mom came in alone. She turned on my lights, and that’s when I found out I could see through Remy—and my mom couldn’t see her at all. My mom kept telling me I was dreaming and to wake up, but I still remember she looked at me like I was crazy when I insisted Remy was in her bed.
“After that, plus some forced therapy, I got used to pretending Remy wasn’t there, but it’s getting harder to do now. In the past, she’d only appear every few months, and most of the time she didn’t say anything, but now she’s in haunting overdrive.”
Tears sting my eyes. “I’m
getting scared, and I don’t want to do this alone anymore—that’s why I came here today. I mean, when I found out you could see her and talk to her, it was such a relief, because in the back of my mind I always wondered if maybe I was crazy.”
Luke reaches out and brushes a tear from my cheek. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll help you figure this out. And do you want to know something?”
I sniff. “What?”
“It was a big relief knowing you could see Remy too. I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about this stuff since Kayla died.”
“Died? I thought she was just missing. Ari didn’t say she … you know …”
Luke walks back over to the bench and sits. He leans back and turns his gaze to the gardens, looking lost and sad.
“Ari doesn’t know. The cops don’t know. But the night she disappeared I felt like she was in the house with me. I felt her wanting me to take care of Ari for her. And then there was nothing—she was gone. I’ve tried calling her back, but Kayla knows enough about ghosts to not want to stick around. She moved on—she’s at peace.”
I walk over and sit down next him on the bench and reach out for his hand. “I’m sorry.”
He leans into me. My heart skips a beat as our shoulders touch, and I can’t help thinking I shouldn’t be holding his hand and sitting this close to him. But I don’t want to stop either.
“I just wish I knew what happened to her.”
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I’m a little surprised she’d come back and be worried about Ari, though. I know her home life isn’t perfect, but she seems pretty strong.”
Luke pulls away from me and stretches his long legs out in front of him. “Ari’s complicated. She’s got a lot to give, but she needs more in return. I think it’s because her mother passed away when she was little and her dad married Patty. As you said, things are not exactly stable at that house—probably worse than you can imagine—but I owe them big-time.
“After Ari met Kayla on the playground when they were little, the Roys took us under their wings, so to speak. They’ve helped us out a lot over the years. Paid for our tuition at school—even painting lessons when I was younger. So when things are rough at home, I try to keep Ari on an even keel to pay them back—for Kayla.”
Luke to the rescue, I almost say out loud. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, he obviously inherited Nona’s desire to help people. I wonder if Luke realizes Ari is in love with him. It’s not hard imagining why.
As soon as the words form in my head, I push them out. I am not like Samantha; I don’t steal boyfriends—or Ari’s potential boyfriend. And I need to remember that the feeling I get from Luke is just part of a job, whether or not he gets paid for it like Nona.
Luke clears his throat. “But back to that girl—it looked like her heart …”
“Was missing. I thought maybe she was in one of the costumes from Land of Enchantment, but don’t you think her clothes look old-fashioned, like maybe it happened a really long time ago?”
“Yeah, they don’t make clothes like that anymore.”
I nod. “Thank God for that. Well, not that she had her chest carved open, but seeing as I just signed on to play Snow White, it’s a relief to know that this was something that happened in the past and not one of Remy’s scary-things-to-come visions.”
“Ghosts can travel the time streams—they have access to all kinds of things in the past, present, and future, but I don’t know why Remy chose that particular scene to show you, except the girl kind of looked like you.”
“Yeah, I noticed that, only her eyes were blue and mine are—”
“Brown.”
“Yeah,” I say, liking that he noticed what color my eyes are. I picture Nicki smirking at me and saying, “Did someone forget they have a boyfriend?” again.
No, I tell myself, but there’s something really nice about being able to talk openly about my sister—something I can’t do with Nicki or Ryan.
I turn to Luke and inch closer to him. “So what about Remy? Is there anything you can do?”
“Nona said Remy was looking for something, and that she was scared. So the first thing to do is figure out why. Was there something she always carried with her—a doll or even a blanket?”
“Can’t you just ask her?”
Luke gives me a weary smile. “I don’t know, that vision kind of knocked me on my ass.” He gives me a wink and a crooked smile. “I guess I’m no better than Nona. I asked for it. But I’ve never actually tried to talk to a ghost—they usually come to me first.”
I smile back at him and try to ignore the way he makes my stomach flutter. Ryan, I scream in my head.
“So could Remy be looking for a toy or something?” he asks.
“No, she actually made fun of me because I had a stuffed bear that I took everywhere—until it got left in the car after the accident. I don’t know what happened to him.” I sigh, knowing this isn’t the time to lament the loss of Mr. B-bear. “There was this dress she liked, but …” Tears well up in my eyes again. “But she was buried in it.
“Could she be looking for my mom? I told my mom Remy was in the house last night. I told Remy to go to her, hoping my mom would finally see her.”
“And?”
“And nothing, other than my mom thinks I’m some kind of sociopath who gets off causing her mental anguish. I just don’t understand why I can see Remy and she can’t. And it’s weird, because Remy doesn’t seem to see her either—or my dad. She was even asking where my dad was and …”
My eyes grow wide. “Oh my God! She was asking me where our dad was yesterday. She was right in the room with him, but it was like she didn’t know. He never woke up after the accident—he’s on life support. Could she be looking for him? Waiting for him before she can, you know, move on?”
Luke nods, looking excited. “That might be it. He might be in some sort of limbo and she needs to connect with him before she can move on.”
I purse my lips as tears pool in my eyes. “My dad was her favorite—she and my mom were always butting heads.” I look at Luke. “That’s it. I know it. She’s been waiting for him all this time.”
“It makes sense; that could be what’s keeping her here.”
I jump up, wiping my eyes. “I’ve got to talk to my mom.”
“Wait! What’re you going to do? You can’t just ask your mother to … you know …”
“I have to. It’s time Remy and my father found some peace.”
SIX
Before you ask, I don’t want to talk about it,” I say as I get into Nicki’s car. “But thanks for picking me up.”
Nicki raises one eyebrow. “Come on, you have to tell me. She hasn’t sent you to Dr. Macardo in years.”
“It’s none of your business,” I snap, and immediately I feel guilty. “I’m sorry. Maybe I should just walk home.” I put my hand on the door, and Nicki pulls on my arm. I let go and slump down in the seat.
“Come on, Megan, what’s going on?”
I shake my head and look away, staring at the North Conway Mental Health Clinic sign. How do I tell Nicki I want to pull the plug on my own father?
Dr. Macardo did agree that thinking about pulling the plug was normal. Telling my mother Remy was in the room was apparently another matter entirely, though. Of course, I’d like Dr. Macardo to spend some time at my house observing my mother, and then see who should get the passive-aggressive label he tossed around numerous times during our session.
A half smile curls my lips. At least he convinced Mom to make a session for herself. I wonder if Dr. Macardo will have Mom draw some family pictures with his stupid box of broken crayons. Maybe then Mom would finally come to grips with the fact that she shut down and left me after the accident, and that she’s not the only one who misses Dad and Remy.
“Okay,” I say finally. I let out a long sigh and brace myself for Nicki’s reaction. “I asked my mother what she thought about taking my dad off the machines.” I pause, hating what comes next. “And she tho
ught I needed to talk to Dr. Macardo about why I wanted to murder my own father.”
Nicki gasps, and I’m glad I left out the part about Remy. “Would-be killer” sounds so much better than “crazy psychopath who also sees ghosts.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m a monster—Charles Manson Jr.”
“God, Megan. No.” I turn to her and she opens her arms and I let her hug me. “I’ve … I’ve thought about that too, you know—the machines. Especially after the last time I went with you to the nursing home. I just didn’t want to say anything because we’ve never really talked about that, and I didn’t know how you felt.”
I still don’t know exactly how I feel about it. After being with Luke I was so sure it was the right thing to do for Dad and Remy. But after seeing the horror on Mom’s face, I started second-guessing myself. Is it really murder?
But it seemed like Dr. Macardo totally understood. I did my homework and I know the statistics. The chance of recovery after six months in a vegetative state is slim to none. The rare instances get a lot of press, but with six months being the standard cutoff, where does that leave Dad after ten years?
Maybe getting my head shrunk today wasn’t such a bad idea after all. If anything, Dr. Marcado’s not judging me harshly made me feel slightly less monsterish.
Nicki holds me tight and the tears come again. “He’s never getting better—the doctors keep telling her that. All of the tests prove there’s no brain activity, but his eyes fluttered open that one time right after the crash, and she thinks he could wake up still.”
I pull away and look out at the office sign. “And maybe she’s right, it happens, but when I saw my dad yesterday, I just knew he’s not there anymore. I just knew he’s not going to wake up, and now she hates me more than ever.”
“Hey,” Nicki says. “Your mom doesn’t hate you—”
“Oh, yes, she does! Maybe she didn’t hate me before, maybe it was more indifference, but you should see the way she looks at me now. She hates me.”