Forty-Four Box Set, Books 1-10 (44) (57 page)

“Good,” she said, picking up the control. “Always tell me these things, Abby. We’re in this together.”

When she said that I almost lost it.

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s see what happens to Mister Bates.”

“God, I hate that guy,” Kate said as she started the show up.

“Me too,” I said, the glow of the television bright in our faces.

CHAPTER 15

I picked up a pair of socks and wandered around Dick’s, checking out the Messi poster that was hanging above a display of jerseys. I had the same exact one in my room and had been looking for another, maybe one with the entire team, but they didn’t have any. I would have to find it online.

It was an exciting time to be a Barcelona fan. They were looking strong as they headed into the quarterfinals of the Champions League. They also had a shot of winning
La Liga
, beating out their hated rivals, Real Madrid. And Messi looked as if he was a real contender for the
Pichichi
, the award given to the top scorer in the Spanish league.

 “That guy knows soccer,” a young guy said as he walked up to me.

“No one better,” I said.

I was surprised actually that someone in the store even knew about Lionel Messi. While most agreed he was one of the greatest soccer players ever at only 24 years of age, and while millions of people around the world watched him play every week, most Americans had no idea who he was.

One of my dreams was to visit Spain someday and sit in the Camp Nou and watch my favorite team play a game. Messi, Iniesta, Carles Puyol, Xavi, Dani Alves. I wanted to watch Pep Guardiola, the best soccer coach in the world, coaching the best soccer team in the world.

But my current wage of ten dollars an hour plus a few tips wasn’t going to get me there anytime soon. Although I had started saving a little from my paycheck every week, I was only up to $250 and my car registration was due next month.

I made my way to the check out. There was a man in front of me and as I waited I pulled out my phone and checked for messages.

Mike asked, again, if I could come in an hour early. I texted him back telling him I could. I knew I would be working with Mo and was planning on asking her about the boy who was tattooed on her arm.

I always liked buying new soccer gear, even if it was just socks. It reminded me of the days when I played for my high school and flew all over that field, winning the ball and scoring. I was happy that I was playing again, but it wasn’t the same and sometimes it made me sad thinking that, save for the odd fantasy, my glory days were behind me. I could have been in college now if I hadn’t had the accident, maybe on a full scholarship, maybe even trying out for the US team.

But whenever it got me down, I told myself that anything could have happened. Nothing was a sure thing. Like what happened with Amanda, my ex-friend who I used to play with. She was starting goalie last year at a California college but then blew out her knee.

The cashier looked at me as I handed him my stuff, like he was waiting for something.

“Come on, Abby,” he said, laughing. “Take a good look at my face.”

It took me a moment to realize who it was.

“Conner?” I said. “Wow, it’s really been a long time.”

He came out from behind the register and gave me a hug before going back to ring up my things.

“So, you’re back playing soccer,” he said. “That’s good, Abby. I’m glad.”

I smiled, not really sure what to say. The last time I had talked to him he told me he was breaking up with me so he could date a cheerleader.

“It’s been forever,” he said, a little nervous. “Like we live in different cities or something. How have you been?”

He flipped back his hair like he always used to do when we were dating in high school. It felt like a lifetime ago. It was strange not seeing him for all these years. But that’s how things were around here sometimes.

“Fine,” I said. “How about you? What are you up to these days?”

“Just working and going to school part time. I’ve been here at Dick’s for about a year. You know, the economy. But I’m taking classes over at the community college and I’ll be transferring to U of O next year.”

“That’s great,” I said.

“And you?” he asked, putting my stuff into a plastic bag.

I was quiet as I slid my debit card through the machine and punched in my pin number, thinking of something to say. I looked behind me, hoping a customer would come up, but the store was pretty empty.

“I work over at Back Street Coffee for now. Still trying to figure out the next move, I guess.”

He nodded, his hair falling into his eyes and making him blink.

“Well, it was nice seeing you,” I said, grabbing the bag and taking a few steps.

“Yeah,” he said. “Hey, Abby, wait.”

I stopped and turned back around facing him.

“Do you think we could meet up sometime? I mean, just as friends. For coffee or a beer. You know. I always felt bad about how we ended.”

You should
, I thought. Conner had acted like a total loser, the way he broke up with me, and at the time it broke my heart. But now, looking at him, that all seemed so long ago and unimportant. It was almost like it hadn’t even happened.

“We’ll see,” I said.

I walked out of the store. As I put my bag in the back of the Jeep, I realized that Conner had actually helped me without even knowing it. When we were dating back in high school, I thought that I was in love with him. But after loving Jesse, I knew that it wasn’t even close. And if Conner hadn’t broken up with me, I might never have had that time with Jesse before the accident.

Really, it had worked out.

I headed to Back Street. Tonight was the night that I would tell Mo that there was a ghost who wanted to talk to her.

CHAPTER 16

It was dead at Back Street from seven o’clock on and we were already talking about closing early. David left at eight, although he lingered for a while, practicing some of his lines in front of me. But when he got a phone call, he took off.

“Bye, you two,” he said. “And remember, stop talking so much and get to work.”

The bells on the door chimed after he left and I stood by the window, watching his Camaro tear out of the lot.

I took a deep breath. It wasn’t something I was looking forward to, but I glanced back down at the table where the ghost was the other night and knew that I didn’t have a choice.

“Hey, Mo,” I said, walking up to her.

My voice was too high and I was nervous but I hoped she hadn’t noticed. She was cleaning out one of the machines.

“Yeah?” she said, not looking up.

I thought about waiting to talk to her until we officially closed up because I didn’t want to be interrupted if a customer came in. But it had been really quiet tonight.

“I need to talk to you,” I said.  She still didn’t look at me. “About something important. Could we close up a few minutes early and talk then?”

She looked up finally, her dark eyes curious.

“Yeah, sure,” she said slowly. “What about?”

Her energy darkened a little and I could tell she was annoyed. I couldn’t blame her. She had no idea what it was about and being that we spoke exactly three sentences to each other all month, she was rightfully suspicious. Maybe she thought I was going to try and convert her, get her to join a church or something.

“It’s about your tattoos. I just had a question.”

“Go ahead,” she said.

She put down the sponge and turned, facing me.

Our eyes met but I quickly looked away. I had a plan, knew what I wanted to say, but she wasn’t making it easy and the words were all jumbled in my mind.

“Well…”

“So you’re thinking of getting one after all,” she interrupted. “I get them done in Eugene. I can give you the name of the guy if you want.”

I shook my head.

“No, it’s not that,” I said, trying to smile and lighten the mood. “I’m too much of a chicken. No, I wanted to know about that one.”

I pointed to her arm, and she held it out in front of her, trying to figure out the one I was talking about.

“This one?” she asked, touching the broken heart.

“No,” I said.

She hesitated as she moved her finger down, touching his face. She didn’t say anything.

“Yeah. That one.”

As she glanced at her arm, I could see that I had hit a raw nerve and could almost hear the pain inside her in the silence that followed.

“What about it?” she said finally.

“Well, I was just wondering who that was.”

She looked over at the door as if a customer had come in, but nobody was there. When she looked back at me, her eyes were flat. She sighed loudly.

I played with the towel I was holding. The conversation wasn’t going as I had hoped, but there was nothing else to do. The ghost boy was connected to her and I had to find out about him so he would leave me alone.

“Spenser. He was my brother,” she said. “He died in an accident.”

I nodded.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Thanks for telling me.”

She studied me for a moment, and then started walking away.

“Wait,” I said.

She turned around and came up to me, a little too close.

“Look, I get asked about this once in a while. I get it. It’s a tattoo and some people think I’m putting it out there for the world to see and for them to ask me about it. They think I want to talk about it to them. But they’re full of shit. That’s not why it’s on my arm.”

“That’s not where I’m coming from,” I said.

And then I dropped it on her. All of it.

“I see ghosts sometimes and I’ve seen him. I’ve seen Spenser.”

She didn’t move, didn’t even blink. And for a moment I had the feeling she might slap my face or throw a punch into my gut, but she didn’t. She just stared at me for a long time before heading into the back of the store.

I knew exactly how she felt. I didn’t like to talk about these kinds of things either. But I was going to have to. I didn’t follow her. I flipped the sign and closed the blinds and sat down at the table and waited.

Mo came back out a few minutes later and saw me sitting.

“Come on, we got work to do,” she said, shouting over the music.

“One more thing, Mo,” I said.

She came over. She folded her arms and stopped a few feet away, still glaring at me. I held her chilling look, and then saw the resemblance. She had the same serious eyes as Spenser.

“I know you don’t know me that well, but I bet you know a little bit about me. I bet you’ve heard some of the stories,” I said.

I was taking a shot, but it was a good one. I could tell by the expression on her face that she had heard about me. For a while after my drowning, I was known all over town as the girl who came back from the dead. It felt like everyone knew my story. I would be in a store and strangers would come up and talk to me like they knew me. Some of them were scared of me. Some of them thought I was cursed.

And being that Mo and I had gone to the same high school, she probably would have been familiar with my name. There was also a good chance that she had heard about me dying and then coming back to life.

But she still didn’t say anything.

“Your brother…” I started, but she wouldn’t let me finish.

“Stop it,” she said, holding up her hand. “I don’t know what scam you’re working, but I’m not buying it. Just leave me alone. Back the fuck away, Love Hewitt.”

Her voice was shaky and sharp.

“He says he needs help. But I don’t know how to help him without knowing more about him. He’s following me around. He was even here, over in that corner the other night.”

She turned around and looked at the table I was pointing to.

“He wears a Guns N’ Roses T-shirt and jeans and has scars and bruises all over his face. I’m just trying to help him, Mo. But I need more information about him.”

She walked over to a table and picked up a balled-up napkin and stuffed it in the trashcan.

“You seem all buddy-buddy with my dead brother,” she said. “Just ask
him
and leave me the hell out of it.”

She walked back over to the machines and finished cleaning them out. We didn’t speak the rest of the night.

CHAPTER 17

As I took a batch of lemon cookies out of the oven, I couldn’t stop thinking about Mo. Asking about her brother and then telling her that I had seen his ghost lurking around the coffee shop had been a mistake. We had worked together two times since that night, and she still wasn’t talking to me, even though I had gone out of my way to be friendly. She was still angry, her energy dark.

But I couldn’t just drop it. I needed a new plan.

The cookies were for Ty, who was on his way over. We were going out to dinner and a movie.

I let them cool on the rack, and then ate one before sliding some into a tin. It was the first time I had used the recipe and they were sweet and tart at the same time.

Kate was in the hallway, up on a ladder.

“I left you some cookies under the glass dome,” I said, standing under her.

“Thanks,” she said, gliding a paintbrush across the wall, right under the ceiling. “They smell like hazelnut.”

“What color is it?” I asked, thinking it odd because I hadn’t used hazelnuts.

“Hazelnut,” she said.

“Sounds like a good one.”

She glanced down at me.

“You look nice. When is Ty picking you up?”

“He should be here any minute,” I said. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”

“No, but thanks. I want to finish.”

I was happy that Kate was almost done with all the painting, although I wasn’t sure what she would do now with her extra time. I was really looking forward to not smelling those strong paint fumes every time I came home and opened the door.

“All right,” I said. “Oh, I forgot to tell you that I bumped into Conner the other day.”

“Conner? Oh, yeah. You mean that worthless punk you dated in high school?”