“I was wondering when I’d see you.” Ocean thought of the blue envelopes upstairs. “Did you read the rest of the letters?”
Jo nodded.
“You okay?”
“Yes. Henry loved me. Missed me.” She sighed. “I knew that already, but it was good to see the words he’d written.”
Jo looked away, and Ocean thought that it would be wrong to pry any further into it. Even though it happened a long time ago, it had to feel like yesterday for Jo.
Maybe it was weird, but she felt...lonely. The kind of lonely that clung to your ribs and ached.
Actually, it wasn’t weird. She’d lost someone important. She’d lost her grandmother.
And Ocean had a connection to this place. Why wouldn’t the thought of leaving hurt? She had a feeling this was something she didn’t need to explain to Jo.
People moved on, in spite of the pain. They packed up. Let go.
But ghosts? Ghosts stayed.
So she changed the subject.
“Jo, can you see these photos?” she asked.
“Of course I can see them,” her ghostly new friend said, giving her a look like she’d just asked if the sky was blue. “I’m not blind, doll. Just dead.”
“Can you smell things too?”
Jo breathed in the air dramatically, then gave her a sideways grin. “Can’t speak for the rest of the dearly departed, but I can. Which is quite unfortunate when someone microwaves fish. Death does not spare you from another’s bad decisions.”
Ocean laughed. “Grandma Clare used to microwave fish sticks.”
Jo made a face. “Exactly. They smelled like regret and sea trash. I nearly crossed over just to get away from it.”
“You can cross over when you want?” Ocean asked, eyes wide.
“No, I can’t. That was an expression,” Jo said, rolling her eyes. “Don’t get literal on me.”
“So…what can you do?”
“I can sit here and visit. Be delightful. Offer unsolicited opinions. Isn’t that good enough?”
Ocean smiled. “No, that’s great.” An idea hit her, and she pulled out her phone, holding up a picture of her and Ivy. “Can you see what’s on my screen?”
Jo leaned in. “Yes. Two teenagers dressed like Fashion lost a bet.”
Ocean snorted. “That’s Ivy and me. She’s my best friend.”
“Mm-hmm,” Jo said. “I stand by what I said.”
“So, you can talk through the phone?”
“Technology is hit or miss, for some reason,” Jo replied with a dramatic sigh. “But I have no desire to press buttons. Do you know how much effort it takes for me to even try touching things? It’s like trying to thread a needle with smoke.”
“Like hugging me?”
“Exactly. Hard work,” Jo said, her tone softening. “But worth it. Totally.”
“It means a lot to me,” Ocean said. “Knowing you’re real. And that my grandma had a friend, someone who was actually here for her while we were all the way across the country.”
