Mellie stirred when I slipped into bed. Every night I read her a princess story in her own bed. Every night she ended up in mine. Was it because of the ghost talk?
Shesaw him, even claimed she could talk to him. Too bad her imaginary friend compromised her credibility. But what about me? It felt like I was still in middle school, freaked out by that stupid scary movie. It’d only happened once, but no one in the family had let me live it down.
I sighed. To be honest with myself, if I hadn’t seen this Sir Hugh, I’d probably be as suspicious as my parents and Ezra. But Ihadseen the ghost and so had Mrs. Montgomery. My thoughts stopped short. That must explain it.
Believing was seeing.
There had to be a way to convince the family cynics. But how to get them to believe in ghosts enough to seeourghost? The contradiction made my head hurt. And what difference would it make if they did? Did they know how to get rid of a ghost? I needed to talk to Coop about it. Maybe he’d have some ideas.
Later, the sound of a text message ping brought me out of a doze. I shot out of the bed and froze in place, listening. Mellie didn’t stir. I picked up my phone.
Meet me by the heart in 10. Dress warm. Wear boots. Bring blanket.
My pulse raced. After three days of rain, I’d almost given up on the picnic. I texted him back.
On my way.
With hands that shook a little from excitement, I rushed into my clothes while trying not to wake Mellie. I gathered up the old wool blanket I’d pulled out days ago just for this.
The moonlight washed out the garden’s usual vivid colors, and the breeze rustling through the trees made it a little eerie. The familiar glow from Coop’s solar-powered path lights led me to him. He stood by the heart garden, a tarp in one hand and a flat box in the other.
“Hi.” I’d waited to be alone with him for three miserable, rainy days. Three days of not working and talking with him in the garden Three days to wonder what he’d meant by “if.” Three days to build it up in my mind and then worry I was making it into more than it really was. More than I probably should anyway. I took a deep breath.
“Hey,” Coop said. The heavenly smell of baked bread coming from the box made my stomach growl. Maybe Nan’s little adage about food being the way to a man’s stomach didn’t stop with guys. He held out his elbow for me to take. “This way, my lady.”
Surprised at his courtly manner, I slid my arm through his. My senses went into overdrive. In Sacramento, we’d spent a lot of time outdoors, in the sun and water. For the last year, my memories of Coop had included the smell of sunscreen. Not so since moving to Washington. Tonight he smelled so good he must have taken extra effort. I wished he had given me more advance notice.
Self-conscious, I reached for anything to talk about. “You won’t believe what happened earlier.”
“What?”
I explained about what I’d seen, as he took us beyond the open part of the castle’s “U.”
“Wish I’d seen that—careful there.” Coop guided me away from an uneven section of ground with standing water, shimmering in the moonlight. “There’s a good spot.” He pointed to a slight rise in the middle of a section of ground my parents had talked about developing into an extension of the garden, with a pavilion and water features for receptions.
“Do you think we should try to convince Ez and my parents?” I asked as Coop handed me the still-warm box. Inhaling the yummy smell, I sighed.
“Wait until you taste it,” he said with a grin and spread the tarp over the ground. “As for imagining your father helping search for the ghost?” He shook his head. “There must be a way to get rid of him though.”
“Maybe find what binds him. Whatever that is.” I helped Coop arrange things and settled on the blanket. “Tell me about this pizza,” I said.
“It’s my variation on one we had once in Portland. Four kinds of cheese.” He handed me a paper plate and opened the box’s lid. “Notice the crust is both thin and thick.”
I bit into it and took my time to savor the interesting combination of flavors and textures. “It’s so good,” I said around the pizza.
We worked our way through the food. The meal only needed something sweet to make it perfect. Maybe if we had a next time, I could bring a dessert.
“It’s time.” Coop pointed to the horizon above the forest where the sky had begun to glow. My breath caught as it turned into a transparent but shifting curtain of variegated-green, the color changing and moving, sometimes white and other times blue.
We watched for a minute before he lay back, using his backpack as a pillow. “We can share, if you don’t mind.” He scooted his head so mine would fit too.
As soon as I lay beside him and settled my position, he laced his fingers with mine and started in on an explanation of the Aurora Borealis phenomenon. I really didn’t catch much of what he said, mesmerized by the colors in the sky and the feel of my hand in his. As the phenomenon faded, he went quiet.
“Like I said the other day about last summer,” he finally said, still staring at the sky. “I wondered then if there could be more between us, but you had plans, and I couldn’t stay. A couple of friends have tried the long-distance thing. I didn’t want to set myself up for that. They went through nothing but hardship, and neither relationship worked anyway.”
My emotions jumbled all over each other, and I didn’t know what to say. Why did his words have to thrill and thrash me all at the same time?
“Then you showed up here.” Coop sat up and pulled me to a sitting position too, keeping my hand in his. “Being with you again makes me wish I’d said something last August.”
