"She said it could be al kinds of ways. I could have passed by somewhere his spirit was, or it could be personal."
Derek raised his arm to check his watch. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but our hour was up thirty minutes ago."
"That is bad news." She closed her eyes. "Derek?"
"Yes."
"Thank you."
"For what?" he asked.
"For everything." She rol ed over and looked at him. And heaven help her, but she wanted to kiss him so bad she could scream. And if the look in his eyes was any indication, she wasn't the only one wanting.
He moved in just an inch. She could feel his breath on the corner of her mouth. He was so close, she could count his lashes, but it was his lips that tempted her.
"Kylie." The way he said her name made her melt a little more.
"Yes," she managed.
"You're making it hard for me to keep my promise."
"I'm sorry." She almost kissed him then. Almost. But knowing it wouldn't be fair to him, or herself, she didn't do it. Not yet.
* * *
The next morning Kylie sat with her mom and watched her check her watch for the tenth time. Kylie couldn't help but wonder if her mom hated being with Kylie so much, or if it was the thought of her dad showing up that made her mom so eager to leave. Probably both.
"I'm so glad it's working out here," her mom said, straightening her tan suit jacket. The color did nothing for her olive complexion and dark hair. It only enhanced what looked to be dark circles under her eyes.
"Your friends seem nice, too." Her mom glanced over to Del a and her parents at the table in front of them. Kylie had introduced her to both Miranda and Del a when she arrived. Her mom leaned in. "The hair is a bit much on that one girl. But if you tel me she's not too wild, or doing drugs or anything, I guess I have to believe you."
"She's not wild, Mom," Kylie muttered. Silence fol owed, and Kylie knew what it would be like living with her mom, dealing with her mom's prejudices and awkward silences. Kylie could feel the chil from across the table. Not a ghostly chil , either. Or was it?
Kylie shifted her gaze across the room and saw him standing in the corner, staring, crying more tears of blood. Her heart gripped and Kylie real y wished she knew his name so she could help him.
"Are you sure we don't have any family in the military?" Kylie asked her mom again.
"Positive, dear." She looked at her watch again. "Your camp leader-what's her name? Holiday? She seems nice, too."
"Holiday is nice," Kylie said, remembering how she'd exchanged glances with Holiday after she'd met her mom and seeing the camp leader shake her head no, as if to say, her mom wasn't supernatural.
"Okay, I guess I should go," her mom said. "Do you want to walk me to my car?"
Kylie spied the clock on the wal . Her mom was leaving thirty minutes early. So much for mother/daughter quality time.
"Of course." Kylie got up. As they passed Del a and Miranda with their parents, Kylie realized neither of them seemed particularly happy. Tonight's table chat, a nightly ritual, was going to be more like a whine session.
Kylie and her mom walked to the parking lot without talking. Thankful y, the ghost didn't join them. When her mom turned around to say her final good-byes, she reached out and gave Kylie's arm a squeeze.
Kylie's chest tightened as the memory of needing a hug at Nana's funeral came barreling back at her.
"You know, some moms hug their kids."
Shock crossed her mom's face. "Do you need me to hug you?"
"No," Kylie said. Who wanted a hug you had to ask for? It was like having to ask for an apology.
"Bye, Mom." Kylie turned around and went back to the dining hal to wait for her dad. She didn't look back and watch her mom drive away, even though she knew her mom would be waving and expecting Kylie to do the same. From now on, no hugs equaled no farewel waves.
* * *
Kylie almost didn't recognize him. First, where was the touch of gray lining his temples? Second, his hair was not natural y two-toned. And for sure, he didn't wear it in a spike cut. She wasn't even going to talk about the clothes he wore. Old men should never, ever wear tight jeans.
"Is that him?" Holiday asked.
Kylie wished she could lie and run out the back door, but her dad spotted her across the room and started over to her.
"Is he a supernatural?" Kylie asked, fighting the embarrassment and looking back at Holiday's twitching brows.
"No." She let out a big sigh. "But that doesn't mean-"
"I know," Kylie interrupted.
"How's my pumpkin?" Her dad pul ed her into a tight hug.
Kylie closed her eyes and tried to forget how he looked and just let herself soak up the comfort of having his loving arms around her. Tears fil ed her eyes and she swal owed hard, praying she could contain them.
"I'm okay," she muttered, and pul ed back. Her sinuses stung, but the tears didn't fal .
"Is this one of your friends?" her father asked, motioning to Holiday.
Kylie looked at Holiday's camp-leader badge and wondered if her dad's dye job had fried his eyesight.
"I wish." Holiday held out her hand. "I'm Holiday Brandon, one of the camp leaders."
"You're kidding me," her dad said. "You can't be a day over twenty. And you don't look like any camp leader I've ever seen." His smile widened and his gaze shifted down Holiday's shapely form.
"No kidding." Holiday eased her hand from her dad's.
Kylie gawked at the man who had been her rock, who had been there through skinned knees, mom arguments, and even boy problems. The reality rol ed over her like a dump truck. Her father was flirting. With Holiday. Holiday who was ... wel , at least fifteen years younger than her dad.
"What happened to the gray in your hair, Dad?" Kylie blurted out.
Her dad looked back at her. "I ... I don't know."
"Wel , excuse me," Holiday said, and Kylie could swear she saw a smile appear in the woman's eyes. "I'l let you two visit."
Or not, Kylie thought. She didn't know this man, and she wasn't al that sure she wanted to get to know him, either.
* * *
"He wasn't like that before," Kylie said a little over an hour later, stil fighting the urge to cry. Kylie's dad had stayed less than an hour. Holiday, as if sensing Kylie was upset, asked her to go with her on a run into town to buy some supplies.
"Divorce is hard on people," Holiday said. "Trust me, when my parents divorced, they went total y bonkers, too. Mom even got breast implants and started borrowing my clothes."