Dream Lake by Lisa Kleypas Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lisa Kleypas
“Are there squadron patches on it? A name tag?”
Alex shook his head. “Looks like an old A-2 with cargo pockets. You can’t see it?”
“I’m visible only to you.”
“Lucky me.” Alex viewed him dourly. “Listen … I can’t function with you following me everywhere. So you need to get invisible again.”
“I don’t want to be invisible. I want to be free.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Maybe if you help me figure out who I am … who I was … it might show me a way out. I might be able to break away from you then.”
“ ‘Maybe’ and ‘might’ aren’t good enough.”
“It’s all I’ve got.” The ghost began to pace in abbreviated strides. “Sometimes I remember things. Bits and pieces of my life.” He stopped at the kitchen window to stare out at the beckoning blue flat of Roche Harbor. “When I first … had awareness, I guess you’d say … I was in the house at Rain-shadow. I think in my former life I had a connection to that place. There’s still a lot of old junk there, especially in the attic. It may be worth poking around for clues.”
“Why haven’t you done it?”
“Because I’d need a physical form to do that,” the ghost said, every word drenched in sarcasm. “I can’t open a door or move a piece of furniture. I don’t have ‘powers.’ “ He accompanied the word with a mystical waggling of all his fingers. “All I can do is watch while other people screw up their lives.” He paused. “You’re going to have to clear all that crap out of the attic eventually, anyway.”
“Sam will. It’s his house.”
“I can’t talk to Sam. And he might miss something important. I need you to do it.”
“I’m not your cleaning lady.” Alex left the kitchen, and the ghost followed. “There’s enough stuff in that attic to fill a ten-yard Dumpster,” Alex continued. “It would take me days to go through it alone. Maybe weeks.”
“But you will?” the ghost asked eagerly.
“I’ll think about it. In the meantime, I’m going to take a shower.” Alex stopped and shot him a glare. “And while I’m in there, stay the hell away from me.”
“Relax,” the ghost said acidly. “Not interested.”
By the beginning of third grade, Zoë’s father had told her that he was getting a new job in Arizona, and she would have to live with her grandmother until he sent for her. “I just have to get the house ready for you,” he had said. “What color do you want me to paint your room?”
“Blue,” Zoë had said eagerly. “Like a robin’s egg. Oh, and Daddy, can I get a kitten when I move to our new house?”
“Sure you can. As long as you take care of it.”
“Oh, I will! Thank you, Daddy.” For months Zoë had painted pictures of what her new room and her new kitten would look like, and had told all her friends she was going to live in Arizona.
Her father had never sent for her. He had come to visit a few times, and he had answered the phone when Zoë had called, but whenever she had dared to ask if the house was ready for her, if he had made a space in his life for her, he was evasive and irritable. She would have to be patient. There were things he had to take care of first.
At the beginning of her freshman year at high school, Zoë had called to tell her father about her classes and her new teachers. An unfamiliar voice had answered her father’s phone—a woman—who had sounded very kind and said that she would love to meet Zoë someday. They had talked for a few minutes. And that was how Zoë had learned that her father had asked a woman with a twelve year-old daughter to live with him. They were his new family. Zoë was nothing but an unwanted reminder of a failed marriage and a woman who had left him.
She had gone to her grandmother, of course, and had cried bitter tears while laying her head on Emma’s lap. “Why doesn’t he want me?” she had sobbed. “Am I too much trouble?”
“It has nothing to do with you. “Emma’s voice had
Alex shook his head. “Looks like an old A-2 with cargo pockets. You can’t see it?”
“I’m visible only to you.”
“Lucky me.” Alex viewed him dourly. “Listen … I can’t function with you following me everywhere. So you need to get invisible again.”
“I don’t want to be invisible. I want to be free.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Maybe if you help me figure out who I am … who I was … it might show me a way out. I might be able to break away from you then.”
“ ‘Maybe’ and ‘might’ aren’t good enough.”
“It’s all I’ve got.” The ghost began to pace in abbreviated strides. “Sometimes I remember things. Bits and pieces of my life.” He stopped at the kitchen window to stare out at the beckoning blue flat of Roche Harbor. “When I first … had awareness, I guess you’d say … I was in the house at Rain-shadow. I think in my former life I had a connection to that place. There’s still a lot of old junk there, especially in the attic. It may be worth poking around for clues.”
“Why haven’t you done it?”
“Because I’d need a physical form to do that,” the ghost said, every word drenched in sarcasm. “I can’t open a door or move a piece of furniture. I don’t have ‘powers.’ “ He accompanied the word with a mystical waggling of all his fingers. “All I can do is watch while other people screw up their lives.” He paused. “You’re going to have to clear all that crap out of the attic eventually, anyway.”
“Sam will. It’s his house.”
“I can’t talk to Sam. And he might miss something important. I need you to do it.”
“I’m not your cleaning lady.” Alex left the kitchen, and the ghost followed. “There’s enough stuff in that attic to fill a ten-yard Dumpster,” Alex continued. “It would take me days to go through it alone. Maybe weeks.”
“But you will?” the ghost asked eagerly.
“I’ll think about it. In the meantime, I’m going to take a shower.” Alex stopped and shot him a glare. “And while I’m in there, stay the hell away from me.”
“Relax,” the ghost said acidly. “Not interested.”
By the beginning of third grade, Zoë’s father had told her that he was getting a new job in Arizona, and she would have to live with her grandmother until he sent for her. “I just have to get the house ready for you,” he had said. “What color do you want me to paint your room?”
“Blue,” Zoë had said eagerly. “Like a robin’s egg. Oh, and Daddy, can I get a kitten when I move to our new house?”
“Sure you can. As long as you take care of it.”
“Oh, I will! Thank you, Daddy.” For months Zoë had painted pictures of what her new room and her new kitten would look like, and had told all her friends she was going to live in Arizona.
Her father had never sent for her. He had come to visit a few times, and he had answered the phone when Zoë had called, but whenever she had dared to ask if the house was ready for her, if he had made a space in his life for her, he was evasive and irritable. She would have to be patient. There were things he had to take care of first.
At the beginning of her freshman year at high school, Zoë had called to tell her father about her classes and her new teachers. An unfamiliar voice had answered her father’s phone—a woman—who had sounded very kind and said that she would love to meet Zoë someday. They had talked for a few minutes. And that was how Zoë had learned that her father had asked a woman with a twelve year-old daughter to live with him. They were his new family. Zoë was nothing but an unwanted reminder of a failed marriage and a woman who had left him.
She had gone to her grandmother, of course, and had cried bitter tears while laying her head on Emma’s lap. “Why doesn’t he want me?” she had sobbed. “Am I too much trouble?”
“It has nothing to do with you. “Emma’s voice had