Chapter 30
“What’s with the mirrors?” Taylor asks.
Nadya is smoke cleansing the rooms downstairs, while Taylor and I set up the candles. I wanted to start in the big bedroom on the second floor, since that’s where we’ll be doing the séance.
I’ve placed one of the decorative mirrors that Arden and I bought for up here on a waist-high pile of boxes and am now arranging three thick pillar candles in the center of it.
“It’s something to do with reflecting the flames, so the spirit can find their way across the veil.” I grimace. “None of this stuff is exactly scientific.” I would be laughing at us right now if I hadn’t seen what happened to Arden with my own eyes.
“That’s probably why the flames can’t go out?” Taylor muses.
I nod. The fire is the key, apparently. The guide for the spirit so they can cross over and communicate with us. If any of the candles extinguish, Mercy is likely to fade back behind the veil. At least, according to everything I’ve read in the past few days.
My gaze pans over the room. Even with the construction lights on full blast, every corner is still painted in shadows. I swear a few of them throb and shiver like the one Theo and I saw on the wall of the den. But when I look at Taylor, she seems totally relaxed, so I wonder if it’s my imagination.
I’ve dealt with too much strangeness over the last couple of weeks—it’s taking its toll on my brain.
I hook up one of Theo’s mini cameras on the wall so we can keep an eye on the candles without having to constantly come up here.
As I take a step back to double-check my work, the construction lights behind me flicker.
Darkness falls over us for a second, only to disperse again just as quickly, like we’re caught in a giant blinking eye.
Taylor’s pale face says plainly that this time, it was not in my head.
“I think we’re done here,” I announce, and we both hurry for the stairs.
By two in the morning, my entire house smells like a Yankee Candle factory that’s been doused in rosemary and eucalyptus, and the three of us are sprawled out on air mattresses in the living room.
Mom thought it would give us more space, but I wonder if maybe she’s enjoying having a room to herself for the first time since we moved here.
I can’t wait for this house to be finished so we can both finally feel like we have a home.
Hopefully one with no ghost in it.
Every hour, one of us gets up to check on the candles. In between, Taylor and Nadya fill me in on everything going on back home. Who’s already left for college. Who’s broken up. What parties happened that I never would have attended anyway.
They show me pictures from their taco trips, including the three dents Taylor put in her brand-new Jeep because she has no idea how to park that thing.
She holds her hands up in surrender. “Listen, parking spots are made like everything else in this world. Too small for larger bodies. Or cars.”
The three of us collapse in a fit of giggles and for a second the world feels as if it never changed.
But it has. In so many ways. And for once, that doesn’t scare me. I’m excited to see how Taylor and Nadya fit into this new life of mine, rather than fearing that I won’t fit anywhere without them.
“Maybe Mercy will possess Theo and the two of you can make some sexy pottery like in that nineties movie,” Taylor muses. Every day, I more deeply regret letting my mother commandeer so many of my movie nights with Taylor over the years.
“Out of what, Tay?” Nadya asks. “The sawdust upstairs?”
Taylor narrows her eyes at her girlfriend. “At least I’m coming up with possibilities.”
“I don’t believe in any of this stuff, so I have no idea what people do when they try to communicate with the dead.” Nadya’s dark eyes land on my face. “I’m sorry, Amity. I believe you that something happened, but I just can’t accept that it’s a ghost.”
“Listen, I’d be in the same boat if I hadn’t witnessed it all myself.” Maybe Nadya’s skepticism will be our shield. Like Mercy Harlow is Tinker Bell and it’s our belief that gives her power.
Taylor nudges me with her foot. “What do you think is going to happen?”
I shrug. I still can’t believe that the whole thing will involve us sitting around holding hands and talking to a ghost. I thought we’d need a Ouija board or a spell. None of us are mediums or psychics or whatever.
I have no idea how we’re supposed to actually expel a spirit.
All I can do is trust in Theo and hope nothing goes wrong.
I don’t know what Theo said when he made this dinner reservation, but our table at Nobody Puts Pancakes in a Corner is the best in the restaurant.
Like we’re VIPs or something.
We’re directly in front of the stage, on the right side of a makeshift aisle that runs the length of the dining room. We’ll be able to see every second of the Dirty Dancing performance from the perfect vantage point. I gape at Theo.
He leans in to press a kiss to my temple. “How did prep go?” he whispers.
“Too smoothly.”
He arches an eyebrow.
“Mercy has been very, very quiet.” All day, I expected the lights to flicker, or the house to cave in, or our stove to try to swallow my mother.
Whatever a ghost does when they’re at their peak strength.
But everything has been eerily calm. The candles remained lit, and I did not spot one shadow or wisp of dusty light blocking the windows or lamps.
“Maybe it’s the calm before the storm,” he offers.
“Oh thanks, that’s extremely reassuring,” I deadpan.
Once the server has come by to take our order, Mom taps her fist to the table like a gavel.
Everyone goes quiet and watches as her gaze meets mine. “Amity, sweetie,” she starts.
“Mom, do not make a speech.”
She ignores me. “I asked you to do something big and scary for me this summer. Leaving behind your friends, your home, your life, to move with me across the country to a house that was only half ready—”
“And super haunted.” Matt coughs the words into his hand. Mom whacks his arm good-naturedly.
I take the opportunity to try to end this before I die of embarrassment. “You’re welcome.”
Of course, she keeps going. And now her eyes are starting to get glossy with tears.
Maybe there’s room under the table to hide. I actually lean over to check, but Matt and Nadya are too damn tall. Their legs take up all the space.
“I’m so proud of how you’ve handled it. And seeing you sitting here now, with your old friends and your new ones—”
“New and improved,” Theo jokes.
Taylor points two fingers at her eyes, then at Theo’s face to warn that she’s watching him.
I groan. “You all, please just let her finish.”
Mom laughs. “I’m done. Happy birthday, sweetie.” Her hand disappears into her pocketbook and emerges with a remote car key. She presses it into my palm. “We pick it up tomorrow.”
I gawk at my hand. “Wait. You got me a car?”
“It’s a Civic. Only has like five thousand miles on it.” She waits for a reaction but all I can do is stare. “I hope it’s okay that I got it without you. I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Mom…” I don’t know why this feels like such a big deal, but it is. The plan was always to get me a car for college since I’d be commuting. I guess I thought that would change with everything else. That Mom might try to hold me a little bit closer here.
“Listen, Theo and I can’t cart you around forever,” she jokes, though her eyes glisten with more tears.
I grin at her. “Now I can cart you around when you get too old to drive. You know, next year.”
She squawks, but whatever retort she has is drowned out by the first chords of the climactic song from Dirty Dancing blaring through the speakers hanging in the corners of the room.
A waitress jogs to the center of the small stage, and the rest of the staff take their positions at the opposite end of the aisle. Then they start to dance. It’s the exact choreography from the big number at the end of the movie.
“They’re pretty good,” I observe to no one in particular. Everyone is in sync and on rhythm. How often do they practice? Or maybe you have to have a background in dance to work here?
Taylor and Nadya wiggle in their seats and sing along to the music. Matt’s pretending to play an air version of every instrument. Arden nods along with the beat. Mom watches the whole thing in bewilderment.
When I glance over at Theo, his eyes are on me like I’m the best show in town. I grip his bicep and shake it. “I can’t believe this is happening.” It might be my best birthday ever, even if it is going to end in a séance.
I hold my breath in anticipation as the waitress playing Baby does her leap off the stage into “Johnny’s” arms. They nail it, and everyone goes wild. Even Arden is on their feet now.
Then a quiet spreads over the room, drawing our attention to the stage. One of the hostesses has a microphone and is peering out at the audience. “We hear someone’s celebrating a birthday with us today.”
No.
I look from my mother, to my friends, to my boyfriend, all of whom are trying—and failing—to suppress their laughter.
They did this. All of them. Together.
Traitors. I think the word with as much venom as I can given the warmth that kindles in my center at the thought of everyone I love conspiring to mortify me.
“You better start sleeping with one eye open because I deeply believe in revenge.” I point slowly and menacingly at each of them.
“Amity Callaway, come dance with us!” the host calls out. I slink deeper in my chair, but of course everyone else is waving the staff over to me.
Dirty, rotten traitors. And I love them all.
As the music resumes, the dancers surround us, urging me to my feet.
Forget ghosts. This is what a nightmare is.
Before they can shepherd me to the center of the floor, I clasp Theo’s wrist and drag him with me.
The hostess arranges a birthday crown on my head, and two of the other servers teach Theo and me a quick cha-cha step. Then they leave us to dance.
Theo’s arm curls around my waist, drawing my body closer to his. He’s light on his feet as he guides me around the floor. I’m the one who keeps crushing his toes.
“You’ve done this before,” I hiss at him.
“Mom made us come here for every family birthday. We still do it.” He’s grinning, but I don’t miss the ache in his voice.
“Theo, if I’d known—”
He presses a finger over my lips. “There’s nowhere else I want to be right now.” His cheek settles against mine, so his mouth rests beside my ear. “She would have loved this,” he whispers. “And you.”
My heart flips over in my chest, and my feet can’t find solid ground.
Just like he has every day since I met him, Theo makes my whole world feel like Gravity Hill. New. Off-kilter.
Unpredictable.