little bit.
"Only thing," I say with a frown, "don't wear one of your sayings T-shirts. You do own, like, grown-up clothes, don't you?"
She laughs hard. "I won't embarrass myself, Kendall. I promise, I clean up real nice."
I hug her hard, knowing how lucky I am to have her in my life. "Well, I better get going. I want all the dirty details."
With a smirk, she says, "Well, maybe not all of them."
"Thanks, Loreen. Love ya! Mean it."
At home, I burst in to see Mom shucking ears of corn over our kitchen garbage can. Kaitlin barrels through in full lacrosse garb, tracking grass into the dining room.
"Change clothes now, Kaitlin!" Mom shouts out.
The back door opens and Dad walks in. He plants a kiss on my forehead and then grabs an apple from the bowl on the table. "Hey, kiddo. How's everything?"
"Great, Dad."
"David, don't eat too much. We're having barbecued chicken, corn on the cob, and coleslaw," Mom says.
"Why, Sarah, I do believe you're becoming Southern."
We all laugh together and then Dad grows serious. "I'm sorry I've been so preoccupied at work lately," he says to me. "I wish I could have gone to Atlanta with you and your mom. I knew you were in good hands though." He blows a kiss across the room. Mom winks at him.
"It's okay, Dad. You're wicked busy, I know. I haven't felt slighted at all."
He adjusts his glasses. "I'm extremely proud of you, though. You're accepting all of this change in your life like a real trouper."
"Thanks, Dad."
While I've got them both together, I tell them about Loreen's idea for me to do some readings at her store. Mom wipes her hand on a dishtowel and thinks for a moment.
Dad takes a bite out of the apple and says, "So, Sarah?"
Mom comes around the counter and sits at the kitchen table. "Sure, Kendall. If that's what you want to do."
"I think it could be fun. Especially since Loreen will be there with me."
"I really like her," Dad says. "She's got character."
Mom looks at him funny, but then says, "It's great that you have her as a mentor. I just want you to continue to be safe and careful."
"I will, Mom."
She waggles her index finger at me. "The minute something demonic or evil or anything like that happens to you, you have to tell me and immediately stop what your—"
I stop her with a hug. "Don't worry about me, Mom."
"I'm your mother. It's in my nature to worry."
Dad shakes his head and laughs. "My girls..."
I'm the luckiest girl in the world. I have plenty of people guiding me: Mom, Dad, Loreen, Father Mass, my friends, and even Emily ... although she hasn't been around lately. She'll come around when she's ready. She always does.
My cell phone rings. It's Jason.
I take a deep breath and smile. Now it's time for the "u + me" time!
* * *
Epilogue
I awaken with a start, my throat dry and aching. My heart is thumping in my chest like Flea banging it out on the bass for the Red Hot Chili Peppers.
And speaking of red hot...
I throw the covers off me, realizing I'm tangled up in the sheets and drenched from head to toe in a sticky sweat. It's not even warm in here, but something has my adrenaline pumping and my body attuned to the static charge in the air.
Rubbing my eyes as they adjust to the dark room, I try to recall what I was just dreaming. Something strange and almost sinister. A mishmash of images flashing at lightning speed through my brain. A psychotic slide show that I can't stop long enough to decipher.
I sit up with a start and catch my breath.
Emily is sitting at the foot of my bed, staring at me.
"Emily, where have you been?"
"I've been around."
Has she? "What are you doing here now?"
She's paler—okay, I realize she's a flippin' ghost, but still—than usual. "Tell me about the dream, Kendall."
"My dream ... yeah." Slowing my rapid-fire pulse, I try to halt the crazed reflections in my mind. Concentrating even as I'm still trying to wake up, I stare ahead at Emily's whitish silhouette in the dark of my room.
Then everything clicks into place; the dream feels almost like a memory of sorts. Only whose? Certainly not mine.
"I, umm, I think I was seeing you when you were alive or something like that."
The picture in my mind morphs into the scene. It's Emily. She's young and happy and alive. I can't tell the time period, but