Everlasting (12 page)

“I do have feelings for you…. I just don’t know what to do about them.”

“Is it someone else?” The truth suddenly punched me in the gut. This had to be it. I shoved both of my hands against his chest, knocking him backward two steps. “Is it one of those girls I saw you talking to at the beach that day?”

He shook his head and waved his arm. “No, that’s not it at all, don’t be silly. It’s not them. You’re the only one for me.” His eyes pleaded.

I glared at him, aching to see through him—studying his thoughts, what he was meaning. But I couldn’t read him. “Just take me home, Tate. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Sophia, please, don’t do this.” He opened the car door for me, floundering. “I’m sorry. I wish I could make you see. Please, don’t push me away. Don’t be mad at me. Don’t.”

I got in and slammed the door, vowing I would never speak to him again. We drove back to Mandy’s in silence—only the sound of the engine and the shifting of gears keeping us company.

We pulled up in front of Mandy’s, and I stormed out, slamming the door again, neither of us saying a word to each other. But just as the door battered closed, and he pulled away from the curb, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I loved you, Tate!”

T
he tears unleashed
themselves in waves when I went up the staircase, rushing out like a turbulent storm. I tripped and turned my ankle, wavering, almost falling back down the stairs.

My ankle took no time at all to swell, and I limped to my bedroom. With my head and ankle both throbbing, I flung myself on the bed and released a broken sob, pulling out my journal. I didn’t dare look back at my last entry because this would only set the tears on fire again. What a fool I was. To believe those happy times would last forever.
Ha, never again.
All this time I believed that Tate and I would marry and have children. Why had things changed for him? That was the question I’d never get answered. But I knew one thing,
never again would I let a guy
make a fool out of me.

July Twentieth,

My life feels as if it’s over before it even began. The boy I loved most in this world is gone. He pushed me away, and it’s something that I don’t understand. I thought he loved me like I loved him, but I was wrong. I was just his summer fling. He probably has a million girls lined up waiting for him. It was stupid of me to think I could keep a guy like Tate, anyway. He was way out of my league. I’ll be cutting my vacation short and begin packing tomorrow.

Sophia Bandell

That night, the smell of Tate’s shaving cream jolted me out of a deep sleep. Stunned, I shot up in bed, searching for him, knowing he must be here. “Tate, is that you?” No answer. I got up and flicked on the light. No one here. It must have been a dream because as soon as I got up to turn on the light, the smell disappeared…just as quickly as it had arrived.

O
ne week had passed
. I was still here, and Tate and I still hadn’t spoken. Mandy had talked me into staying. “You can’t leave, Sophia.” She sat staring at me from across the breakfast table one morning, one leg swung over the other, foot swinging back and forth. “You and Tate will work things out. You can’t give up on him so easily.”

“He doesn’t like me anymore. Why should I wait around for someone that doesn’t care for me? Do I just sit here and hope that he’s going to call or come knocking?”

“Yes, you do. I know he loves you. He’s head over heels for you. I think he’s scared. Some guys have issues like that. They’re afraid to settle down. They feel pressured…fear getting too close. Besides that, this summer was supposed to be
our
s. Don’t let some boy screw it up for you.”

I nodded, throwing my wadded napkin across the table. “You’re right. Why should I let some guy ruin my vacation? There’s only a couple of weeks left, anyway. I’m gonna get him out of my head and enjoy the rest of my time.”

“That-a-girl, I knew you could do it.” She reached over and gave me a pat on the back.

I sat there silent, drumming my fingers on the table, thoughts of Tate spilling over in my head. “Do you think I should make the first move and call him?” The words sounded desperate and pathetic, but I couldn’t help it.

Mandy held up her hand, ready to swat me. “Do you need your head examined? I thought you weren’t going to think of him anymore.” She shook her head at me pitifully. “No, let him make the next move. He’s the one who broke it off.”

“You’re right.” I battled to keep the grumble out of my tone.

She slid her chair back, pushing away from the table. “I have to go meet Matt this morning. We’ve got some wedding shopping to finish up. Do you want to come along? It’ll help take your mind off things.”

“No, I need to run and clear my head. Then maybe I’ll head to the beach and meet up with Brian Tarris.” With a smile, I glanced at Mandy to read her reaction.

“Now I know you need your head examined! Don’t resort to sinking that low. But I am glad to see you got some of your humor back.”

After she walked out the door, Mom called. “Sophia?”

“Hi, Mom, how’s it going?”

“Things are going good here. Josh, Kristy, and Meyer are doing wonderful…. It’s you I’m wondering about.”

Can she tell by my tone that I am depressed over Tate?
I bit my fingernail. “Why…what is it?”

“Well, I received all of those pictures that you sent.”

“Mandy sent them, but yeah…go on.”

“I received a huge envelope—there’s fifty pictures or better, but none of them have your friends in them.” A hint of disappointment swirled in her words. “They’re all just of you, which is fine, but I wanted to see Mandy and your new friends.”

I sat there for a moment, dumbfounded. Why did Mandy do that? “Are you sure? There isn’t a single one of them with Mandy and Matt in them?”

“Nope, nothing. You’re all smiles in them, but it’s only you.”

“Hum…that’s weird. I’ll ask Mandy about it later on. I wonder if there might be a reason she didn’t want you seeing her. She does have a boyfriend, and they’re planning on getting married, but sometimes he’s mean to her. Maybe she thinks you’ll talk to her mom and tell her about Matt. They might not like him.”

“I haven’t talked to her mother in years. We’ve lost touch with each other.”

“Yeah, but Mandy doesn’t know that. She probably thinks you still do. Just let me ask her about it in a non-conspicuous way, and I’ll get back to you. It seems like she’s hiding something. Does the envelope have a return address on it?”

Paper crackled in the background as Mom dug for the envelope. “No, it has nothing.”

“Hum, I have no idea what’s going on, but maybe I can get to the bottom of this. I’ll ask Mandy for the pictures and send you some with all of us in them…after I okay it with her, that is.”

“Alright, dear, keep me posted. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

L
ater on that evening
, I sat in my room, listening to music and reading. The air conditioner was cranked, chilling my feet, so I got up to get a pair of socks from my drawer. I jumped back and gasped, my eyes blinking briskly when I pulled open the drawer. There, on the very top of my clothes, in plain sight, lay the CD. My hand trembled when I picked it up. This was it, time to get to the bottom of all of this. Time to go down and ask Mandy the many questions I’d been wanting to ask her. Matt wasn’t here, so I would have some one-on-one time with her.

I tucked the CD in my purse and went downstairs, advancing through the kitchen. “Hi, Mand.” She didn’t see me at first, her nose stuck in her novel. “I’m going to run to the store and get a magazine, but…can I talk to you first?”

“Sure.” She rubbed her eyes and yawned, looking up at me. “What’s up?”

Startled, I shuffled back a couple of steps. Her skin embodied a stark paleness, much worse than even the other day. Not knowing if I should be bringing any of this up, I hesitated. I would be prying into her life, digging up things she didn’t want me to know, and I’m sure she wasn’t feeling well. “Well…I…I don’t know if I should even be bringing any of this up, but there’s been a lot of things going on here lately that I thought maybe you could explain.” Wincing, I rubbed my arm.

She straightened, looking at me puzzled, her head tilting. “What kind of things?”

“Weird things.” I bit my lip too hard, rubbing my fingers over the soreness. “Things I can’t explain, and maybe you can’t either, but…I thought I’d ask.”

“Okay…what are they?” She laid her book on the table and clasped her hands together on her lap.

I swallowed hard. “Well, Mom called me earlier today and said I was the only one in all of the pictures you sent her. Weren’t you going to send the pictures of all of us? It’s none of my business, but are you trying to hide something from your parents?”

Mandy’s eyes turned cold, icy, and they flitted to the corners evasively. “I can’t talk about that right now.” She wouldn’t look at me. “I’ll explain it all to you soon.”

I knew from her look and the way she answered that I had hit the nail on the head. She was hiding Matt from her parents. And, from the way they fought sometimes, I couldn’t blame her. “Okay, I understand.” I patted my hand on the table, smoothing over the uneasy ambience that circulated the air. “It’s none of my business anyway, so you don’t ever have to tell me if you don’t want.”

She sighed, looking somewhat relieved. “You’ll find out soon, Soph…very soon. I promise.” She stood and ambled toward the window, turning away from me. “I feel bad that I could only send the ones I did.”

“It’s fine…no big deal. Just wanted to make sure my mom wasn’t losing it or something…. But…there are a couple other things I’d like to ask you.”

“Go ahead.” She still faced the window, not looking at me.

I exhaled. “Well, I wanted to bring up the address dilemma but realized it’s no big deal. So…the biggest question is this.” I brought the CD out of my purse. My voice wavered. “I found this in that old dresser in your parents’ room. What’s it about, Mandy? Have you known Tate all along? Did he live here at one time?”

Mandy stiffened, then shuddered. When she turned back toward me, her manner had changed. She became aloof, distant, an uncaring mannerism had overtaken her. “I have no idea what that is.” Her voice snapped, became deep. “That could be anybody’s. There’s more than one Tate in the world, you know.” A wicked glint flashed in her eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you mad.” My voice quivered. I held my breath. Her look scared me, and I hated myself for even bringing it up. “The name
Tate
puzzled me, and I thought maybe you were hiding something from me.”

“What were you doing snooping around in my parents’ room, anyway? Didn’t I tell you to stay out? You should know better than to be digging around in people’s things.” Then, just as fast, she softened. Her face relaxed. “I found the CD in that dresser years ago when my mom first brought it home from a garage sale. It has
nothing
to do with Tate Forester.”

“Gosh, I’m sorry.” With my head drooping, I walked toward her, feeling bad for yet another argument I had caused. I was getting too good at this. “I don’t want to cause bad feelings between us. It’s a weird coincidence and had me puzzled. I’m sorry I was snooping around.”

She spun around again and looked out the kitchen window. “Apology accepted.” An icy tone ingrained itself inside her voice. “I’m sorry I snapped at you, my nerves are just frazzled.” Then, she paused. “Would you do me a favor, Sophia?”

“Sure, anything.” I gulped.

“Would you meet me at my aunt Bethany Peterson’s house for dinner tomorrow night at eight?” She turned to me with a wry smile, a look of elusiveness in her eyes. “She lives at sixteen-twenty-five Willow Lane. I need to go over some things with you. It’ll help to answer some of your questions.”

I looked at her, puzzled, hoping to read her impenetrable eyes. “Sure…I can do that.”

“You can take my car. Matt and I will be coming in his.” She then brushed by me, leaving the room in a flurry.

T
he next night
, I hopped into Mandy’s car. She had laid the keys on the counter for me when she left earlier in the day. My hands shook when I turned the key in the ignition. This stick shift thing might get the best of me. I wasn’t sure I could even get the car out of the driveway. The car roared up noisily and jumped a couple of times, squawking the tires when I put it into gear. It was fast, and I hoped I could handle its speed.

I drove for forty-five minutes, breathing a sigh of relief when I found Willow Lane and read sixteen-twenty-five on a small, older-looking, red brick home. The darkened house worried me. Was anyone even home? But someone opened a curtain and peeked around the edge of it, revealing the yellow glow of a light.

My feet stirred on the floor by the foot pedals. I wiggled them back and forth—hesitant about getting out just yet because I didn’t see Matt’s blue car here. So I stayed waiting in the car, turning up the radio and looking out the windows, glancing at my watch from time to time. Every once in a while, the curtain would pull back. Aunt Bethany, I presumed, checking to see if I was still here. I was sure I was freaking her out by now.

At a quarter after eight, I pulled up on the car door handle, deciding to go in. Mandy and Matt still weren’t here, but I was tired of looking weird. I walked up to the front door and rang the bell. The door opened, and a plump, older-looking woman stood in front of me.

Her gray hair, neatly rolled up into a bun, propped itself on the back of her head. A few stray wisps dangled by her earlobes. A pink apron dotted with flour sprinkles was tied around her thick waist. She wore tan nylons with black Dr. Scholl’s shoes—her wrinkled, swollen ankles spilling over the tops.

She wiped her hands on her apron and tilted her head in a puzzled manner. “Hello…may I help you?” Her high-pitched voice faltered in confusion. Chocolate brown eyes—warm and comforting—blinked rapidly.

“Hi, Aunt Bethany, I’m Sophia Bandell…Mandy’s friend.” I smiled, knowing she was expecting me.

Her face contorted with a puzzled expression, then she finally spoke, her head bobbing in confusion. “Oh…oh…come in…Sophia…you said?”

“Yes, Sophia Bandell.” I stepped inside the cozy house, scratching my forehead.
Dementia?

“Sit down, sit down, can I get you anything?” Her hands trembled, expression still shaken.

“No, I’m fine. I can wait. Supper sure smells good.” I struggled with conversation as she disappeared into the kitchen. The overstuffed davenport looked comfortable, so I plunked myself down, taking in the small living room, eyeing her large collection of salt-and-pepper shakers that sat on top of an antique buffet.

Sweat trickled down the side of her face when she returned with a glass of tea, handing it to me. “Thank you. I didn’t make much.” She dumped herself down into a wooden rocking chair, holding a glass of tea for herself and wiping away the sweat with the back of her hand. “I made a pot roast with mashed potatoes and gravy, and collard greens. Don’t know what brought you here, but do you want to stick around and eat?”

I stared, my eyes squinting. Being an older lady, she must have forgotten Mandy’s dinner date. I nodded and shrugged, glancing at my watch. It was almost eight-thirty. “Sure, sounds great. Mandy should be coming any minute. She told me to meet her here.”

Quickly turning pale, Bethany allowed her hand to flutter up to her large bosom, and she stared at me with wide eyes. Her voice quivered. “Mandy…my…Mandy?” She sat there, staring straight ahead, then clenched her forehead, looking as though she might pass out.

“Yeah, Mandy Stuart. I’ve been spending the summer here with her since May. We’ve been having a wonderful time…. I thought you knew we were coming…. She told me to meet her here at eight…for dinner….” Floundering, I studied her. Sweat formed even heavier on her brow, and her face broke into a million wrinkles.

“You’ve seen Mandy…t…too?” Her voice broke, shaking. She looked as if she might be ill, and her body trembled.

I didn’t know what I had said, but she was shaken to the core and ready to cry. Maybe the whole family had had a falling out, and Mandy was trying to make amends.

My head shook in confusion. “I don’t understand, I guess. Did something happen between you, Mandy, and her parents?”

Aunt Bethany heaved herself out of her chair and shuffled back to a hallway, stumbling as she went. She grabbed on to the edge of the dining room table to steady her hold. I clutched at my phone, ready to call nine-one-one, until I heard her speak, her words bouncing off me. “Oh, something
happened
all right.”

She opened up a closet door and brought out a pile of old newspapers. When she came back into the room, she laid the papers on the coffee-table in front of me. “Read these, Sophia. But you’ll want to be sitting down when you do.” Her chest heaved like she’d just run a race, her voice grainy.

My heart accelerated when I looked down at the top paper, eyes scanning over the headlines:
Three Teens Killed in Auto Accident.
I looked up at Aunt Bethany, my eyes searching hers, trying to make sense of it. “I don’t understand.”

“Read on.” She nudged them, pushing the papers closer to me.

September Twenty-Eighth, Two-Thousand-Thirteen

Three Teens Killed in Auto Accident

Three teens were fatally injured in a one-vehicle accident late last night, Friday, September twenty-seventh, shortly after eleven-thirty PM. Authorities say the two-thousand-ten SUV they were driving missed a sharp curve, rolled several times, then ended up striking a tree located by Timber Cove, also known to the local teens as Party Cove. They were all three taken to Liberty Memorial Hospital and pronounced dead on arrival. Last night was Homecoming, and the teens were believed to have been partying at the cove at the time of the accident. Alcohol and high speeds were believed to be the contributing factors. The teens were identified as Mandy Stuart, Matt Cobain, and Tate Forester. Complete obituaries can be found on page three-A.

When I read the names, I gasped and clutched my throat. The bile in my gut surged and bubbled to the surface. Ready to pass out, my entire being shook, head spun. My body became cold, clammy, and faint. I couldn’t fathom the idea, couldn’t grasp it. This couldn’t be true. It had to be written wrong.

“I…I don’t understand.” Gasping, I got up to pace the floor, gripping my head to stop the spinning. “This has to be a misprint. I’m spending the summer with Mandy and Matt. Tate Forester is my boyfriend….” I stopped to catch my breath, hyperventilating.

“It’s true, Sophia.”

“But how…I’ve been with these people.” I wheezed, turning my palms up in bewilderment and gulping down huge breaths of air. My voice turned frantic as the anger rose up inside of me, although I didn’t know who I was even mad at.

“You’re not the only one who has seen them…or has seen Mandy, at least.” She grabbed my arm to lead me back to the couch again. “That’s why her mother, my younger sister Marrian, and Steve moved. Marrian went nuts after Mandy got killed. Then she claimed that she kept seeing Mandy, even talked to her, so Steve had her admitted to a mental institution in Colorado. Their marriage is on the rocks, and I don’t know how much longer they can stay together.”

I rubbed my hands over the top of my legs, too nervous and shook up to stay sitting. So I lifted myself up from the couch again, almost collapsing, my weak knees buckling beneath me. Flashes of past images and conversations came flooding back to me. Things that seemed weird, now started to make sense—their pale complexions, the coldness of their skin, never eating, never casting a shadow. There was also the smell of roses and Tate’s shaving cream that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

The pictures. No wonder Mom couldn’t see them in the pictures. They were all ghosts. I shook my head, ridding the cobwebs that had weaved their way inside. Numbness shuddered through me.

Then…I heard
her
voice…
She lost her son about eight months ago in a tragic auto accident. He
was only eighteen, just a senior in high school.
Lidia’s voice played back in my head.

“I met a lady on the plane…her name was Lidia Forester. She told me she was coming to see her niece that had lost her son in an automobile accident eight months ago. Do you know her? Is she related to Tate?”

Aunt Bethany gave me another long, strange stare, her face bleak. “Here, dearie, read this one.” As if I were blind, she took me by the shoulder and led me back to the couch. She uncovered the next paper in the pile and pushed it toward me when I sat back down.

I began to read.

February Seventeenth, Two-Thousand-Thirteen

Lidia Forester, the heiress to the oil empire, Forester Oil, has passed away in prison. She was eighty-one years old, and had spent the last twenty years in prison for killing her husband, Samuel Forester, in nineteen-seventy-four in a skydiving accident. Lidia had no living children and left her fortunes to her only living heir, her great-nephew, Tate Forester. A complete obituary can be found on page three-A.

Another cold chill flooded through me, and I shuddered, the insaneness slamming its way through my head. Was this even happening right now? I squeezed my eyes tight. How could this be? This had to be a nightmare, and I prayed I might wake up from it soon. Lidia Forester…a ghost, too? Why had I seen her wearing a black cloak that day?

Another shock wave jolted its way through me. “I can’t believe this is happening, Aunt Bethany.” She sat in her rocker, watching me. “What do you think of all this? Are we seeing things, or have Marrian and I gone completely crazy?” The poisoned words struggled to leak out.

She put her hands together, tucking them under her chin as if she were meditating. “I believe you and Marrian have seen Mandy, Matt, and Tate. I don’t believe you’re crazy. You wouldn’t have come clear to South Carolina on craziness. Something or someone brought you here to live for the past two months, and it wasn’t just a whim. It was something. And I believe it had to be Mandy. They are ghosts, Sophia.” Her head nodded with assuredness.

“What do I do now? Where do I go from here? Do I just go home and forget everything?” I asked this more to myself than to her, getting up to pace the floor again. Tate was my world, and I was in love with him—insanely so—and now I find out he’s a ghost? What kind of a world was this? The sheer absurdity of it made my brain foggy, head ready to explode. Would I ever see him again, and what kind of a future would we have together, anyway? There would be none.

“I don’t know what advice to give you. All I can say is they must have contacted you for a reason. There has to be more to it than just inviting you here and leaving again.”

“Do you think I’ll see them again?” My voice crumbled, fighting against the grief that enveloped me.

“There’s no way of knowing.” She struggled up from her rocker, heading into the kitchen to stir the collard greens that still simmered on the stove. Her walk stabled now, and she shuffled with more ease. “But I believe they will present themselves to you again if they still need something from you.”

I stayed in the living room, pacing back and forth, looking at the photos that lined the mantle on her fireplace. A small picture of Mandy sat off to the right-hand side—one when she and I were in the second grade. She wore a T-shirt with a pink horse on it and displayed a shy grin, her top two teeth missing. Deep dimples indented both of her cheeks. The shirt she had on matched mine from second grade. We liked to wear the shirts to school on the same days, pretending to be twins.

Another picture of an older Mandy sat there, too. This one taken in her freshman year. Her beautiful smile unwavering.

A wave of sadness punched me and doubled me over. My stomach wretched, and I clutched at it, trying to make it stop. Hot tears came gushing out of my eyes, but I couldn’t stop them. Mandy was gone. I was never going to see her alive again. The whole ghost thing had me so caught up, I hadn’t even realized, until now, the impact of it all. All three of my best friends were dead.

Aunt Bethany came back out of the kitchen, and I wiped at my eyes, not wanting to let her see the tears. “Just as well stay and eat with me.” She sat a couple of plates down on the dining room table. Their clatter made me jump. “You don’t have anything better to do, do you?”

Out of habit, I glanced at my watch to see how long Mandy would be, unable to grasp yet that I wouldn’t be seeing her. “Sure…I can stay. I guess I don’t have any plans, now.”

We sat down at the table, and Aunt Bethany handed me the pot roast. “Help yourself.” It smelled delicious, so I took a big chunk of the steaming meat.

I took a bite. “Do you live here alone?” I chewed and chewed, but with my tight throat, I couldn’t swallow.

“Yes, my husband died five years ago, so it’s just me now. I do have a kitty cat named Jinx. He’s sleeping in my room because he’s a little shy around strangers.” Her eyes twinkled, and her bold features resembled Mandy and Marrian.

“I see…I bet it gets lonely here by yourself.” My shoulders drooped. I pushed my food around on my plate. It smelled incredible, but my appetite failed me.

“It does at times, I suppose. But I have my Jinxy. He’s great company for me.” She cleared her throat. “Sophia…could I ask a favor of you?”

“Yeah, what is it?” I put my fork down on my plate.

“If I give you the number to reach Marrian, could you call her and tell her what you saw? Maybe then she won’t think she’s gone crazy, and she can get out of that awful place that Steve has her locked up in.” Her cloying voice became vile, and I detected a bit of distaste for Steve.

I stared at my plate and twisted my hands together, unsure if I wanted to get mixed up in their business. But I couldn’t let this sweet lady down, so I nodded. “Yes, I can probably do that. I’ll try to help.”

“Oh, thank you.” Her mouth turned up into a smile, and she wiped at her eyes. “I would be so relieved knowing that my sister was out of that hole. And, if she decides to stay with Steve and salvage their marriage, well, that’s her business.” She shrugged and took another bite of potatoes.