Ghost Town by Phoebe Rivers Read Free Book Online

around the yard. It wasn’t hard to tag him. “Gotcha!” I cried.
    â€œAgain! Again!” cried the younger boy.
    â€œLater, Jake.” Lily appeared by my side. “Mom told you and Joey to go inside and have some juice. Sam’s in there.” She intertwined her fingers with mine and pulled me away from her brothers. “I was wondering when I’d see you again. I wanted to come by, but my mom said it was rude to barge in. She said you needed time to settle. Are you settled yet?”
    â€œI guess.” I smiled. Lily’s energy warmed even the thick summer air.
    The woman behind Lily stood and brushed dirt from her jeans. I knew she was Lily’s mom. They looked liked clones. “Hi,” she said simply. Her open gaze enveloped me like a hug. “I’m Beth Randazzo. You don’t happen to know anything about soil acidity, do you?”
    I shook my head. “Never even heard of it.”
    â€œThe people at the plant store say that’s the problem with the hydrangeas to the right of the door. Not enough acid in the soil, so no blooms. But what am I supposed to do?” She raised her hands in mock surrender.
    â€œWe could pour orange juice or lemonade on them,” Lily suggested eagerly. “Those are acidic.”
    Mrs. Randazzo’s eyes brightened. “We could have a lemonade stand this afternoon, then toss the extra there.” She turned to the little girl on the ground. “Cammie, want to do a lemonade stand with Mommy?”
    â€œYes!” Cammie cried.
    â€œLemonade stand, girls?” she asked us.
    â€œI can’t. I have to go to the store,” I said apologetically.
    â€œThat’s right.” Mrs. Randazzo flushed. “Your family must be so busy, moving in and all. I wanted to be one of those women who brings a pie the first day. I thought about it too. I just wish I knew how to make a good pie. Please apologize for me. Tell your mother I’ll come by tomorrow.”
    â€œShe’s not here.” I paused. “She died a long time ago. I live with my dad.”
    Awkward silence. It always happens. People don’t know how to react when I tell them about my mom.
    â€œI’m so sorry—”
    â€œIt’s fine,” I interrupted. “I never knew her.” When I say that, it makes people feel better. Like you can’t miss what you never had. But watchingMrs. Randazzo and Lily, I did miss her. A lot.
    â€œIt’s not fine,” Mrs. Randazzo said. “Sometimes a candle is blown out before it even begins to burn. Right?”
    â€œRight.” I stared at the wicker basket of cut hydrangeas at my feet. The perfumed scent of the pom-poms drifted toward me. I wanted to reach out and touch Lily’s mom. She understood. Very few did. But I kept my hands by my sides.
    â€œWait,” Lily said. “Does that fortune-teller woman live with you and your dad? Is she still there?”
    â€œYeah. Do you know her?”
    Lily shook her head. “My friends are always daring me to go in there, but she seems too wacky. Is she totally wacky?”
    â€œI’m not sure,” I admitted. I turned to Mrs. Randazzo, who was now gathering the cut flowers into a bouquet. “Do you know Lady Azura?”
    â€œYes. I love the long emerald-green coat she wears in the winter.” She gave a quiet laugh. “The woman’s eighty, yet manages to make me feel frumpy.”
    â€œBut what do you know about her ?” I pressed. Suddenly it seemed vitally important that I uncover if she was a fake or if she truly had powers. “She speaksin riddles. Do you think her fortune-telling is for real?”
    Lily’s mom reached for a piece of twine and twisted it around the stems. She seemed to be considering my question as she worked. She took her time, binding the flowers into a puffy, beach ball–like bouquet.
    â€œIt’s hard to say, Sara,” she finally replied. “I