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  “Seriously. I need you. Okay?”

  We pulled away from the lot into the quiet, dark streets.

  “I’m glad you invited him,” I said. “Although it was kind of random.”

  “Yeah,” she said as she turned down the music. “He always seems, I don’t know, kind of lonely or something. But I hope he didn’t get the wrong impression. I just thought he needed a nice home-cooked meal. Can’t get any more home cooked than Thanksgiving.”

  That was true. And Kate and I did it right every year. Thanksgiving had been one of Mom’s favorite holidays and when she was alive, we always had the best ones. It was important to Kate to continue the tradition so we cooked really good food and invited a lot of friends over.

  Diana Krall hummed from the speakers.

  “He likes you, you know?” I said.

  “Yeah, I know,” she said.

  “Must be nice, gorgeous doctors throwing themselves at your feet. And you just step over them,” I said.

  “Come on, Abby. It’s not like that at all. He knows I’m involved.”

  “Matt? Come on.”

  She sighed.

  “Matt’s an artist, Abby,” she said, sounding like she needed to convince herself. “That’s one of the reasons why I’m so crazy about him. You’ve seen his paintings. They’re amazing.”

  I had seen his paintings. Amazing wouldn’t have been the word I would have chosen to describe them. Abstract. Messy. Confusing. But definitely not amazing.

  “Okay, okay. I know. Maybe I’m just going through a phase. But relax, will ya? It’s not like we’re getting married or anything.”

  “Does he ever wash his hair anymore, by the way?”

  Lately Matt was looking more and more grungy. He had gotten dreadlocks put in and had grown a scraggly goatee, which he sometimes braided. And he was always wearing the same clothes. Baggy jeans, a striped shirt, and a wool hat, looking like the Where’s Waldo guy. A few of Kate’s friends had reported seeing him roaming the streets downtown looking for inspiration, but I was pretty sure he was picking up spare change from tourists.

  “Let’s not have this conversation right now,” she said, yawning.

  We stopped at a traffic light. We were the only car around for miles.

  “Still feeling better?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” I said. Then I remembered the dream.

  “I was having that same nightmare right before the headache,” I said, shivering suddenly even though it was hot in the car.

  “The one where you’re drowning?” she asked.

  “Yeah, it was bad. Really bad,” I said.

  She drove up our street and I was thankful we were almost home. The sun would be coming up soon, but I couldn’t wait to get to sleep. Maybe I could talk Kate into letting me sleep in her giant, feathery bed.

  Then I remembered.

  “Strange, though, in this one, there was this old guy in the water with me.”

  “What?”

  “An old guy with a huge tattoo on his neck. That’s when the pain hit.”

  Kate looked over at me suddenly.

  “A tattoo on his neck? What kind of tattoo?”

  I thought a moment. It was so strange. The tattoo was illuminated in the water, like a stream of light had made its way from the surface down into the darkness.

  “It was a mermaid tattoo. It wrapped around his neck.”

  Kate turned several shades lighter as we pulled into the driveway. She turned off the car and just sat there.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I’m trying to figure out how the guy I did a story on, you know, the one who committed suicide in the river the other night, how he ended up in your dream.”

  CHAPTER 8

  “I’m going to make some tea, Abby. We need to talk about this a little more. Are you feeling up for it, or do you want to get to bed?”

  I did want to get to bed, but Kate seemed to be so excited about the dream that I told her to go ahead. I owed her that much even if I could barely keep my eyes open.

  “The man, the suicide I investigated down by the river? That was one of the things I noticed. He had this giant mermaid tattoo on his neck. I mean it was huge, it covered his entire neck. It was freakish.”

  I nodded. The dream was still with me and I could still feel him. I couldn’t shake his fear.

  “Yeah, that tattoo was really big,” I said. “There was something else, too. Just a feeling, but it was strong. He was terrified. Really, really scared.”

  “You’ve never had other people in that dream before?” she asked, pouring the steaming water from the kettle into our cups.

  “No,” I said. “I’m always alone. Like when I was in the lake.”

  Kate had never asked too much about when I died. Only once actually, and it was just about whether I had seen Mom. I wished I had. But on hindsight, I wouldn’t have wanted to see her in the place where I was, a place no light or goodness or angels ever touched. So when I told Kate that no, I hadn’t seen Mom, that was the extent of her questions. I knew all that kind of stuff wasn’t Kate anyway, believing in the afterlife and all. She was much too logical for any of that. Besides, as she often told me, the past was the past and the only place to move was forward.

  “Kate, it’s just a feeling. But I think the guy in my dream was killed. I’m sure it wasn’t a suicide at the very least.”

  She looked at me like I was crazy. But I could also tell that she was thinking the same thing.

  “It never felt right to me,” she said. “But this is all too weird.”

  We talked a little longer before she saw that I was fading. She let me sleep in her bed while she worked at her desk at her laptop. I don’t think she ever did get any sleep, because she was in the exact same position when I woke up and light was streaming in through the window.

  “No school today, Abby. Doc’s orders.”

  I smiled and rubbed my eyes.

  “How’s the head?” she asked while she kept typing.

  “Good,” I said. She walked over to me and put her hand on my cheek.

  “Good. Okay, here’s your cell phone and those pills. I’m going into work for a few hours but will be back early. Call if you need anything, anything at all. Remember, if your head starts hurting, take one right away.”

  As I sat up I saw she was all dressed. Makeup, shoes, jewelry, everything. I didn’t mind staying alone though.

  “Bye,” I said.

  “See you later,” she said, and soon I heard the door slam.

  I made a grilled cheese sandwich and started flipping around for something to watch. My head felt back to normal. It was nice to take a day off. I settled on an old Bogart movie. I preferred black and white movies these days because then I didn’t feel like I was missing anything.

  At about four, the doorbell rang. I nearly opened it, but suddenly my arms filled with goose bumps as I thought about my dream and that dead old guy. I looked through the peephole.

  “Jesse!” I shouted. I flung the door open and threw my arms around him. I knew I was overreacting, but it really was great to see him. He just laughed.

  “Take it easy, Craigers! It’s only been like a few hours since I saw you last,” he said. He was dressed in snow clothes so I knew where he’d been. I got him a soda as he slid out of his ski jacket and boots.

  “Kate left a weird message, said you were home and wanted me to check up on you. Feeling okay?”

  We sat at the table.

  “I’m good,” I said. I told him about the migraine, going to the ER, and seeing Dr. Mortimer.

  “How was the snow?” I asked.

  “Oh, man! Perfect!” he said.

  Jesse seemed to be a little checked out of school this year so far, and I was hoping it didn’t have anything to do with me. He never would have ditched to snowboard last year. I knew he would be able to keep up on his grades, but I also knew that the basketball coach had a strict policy about missing practices, even off-season.

 
; “I know what you’re thinking, Craigers, and you don’t have to worry,” he said. “Basketball practice is just starting. So relax. Anyway, the snow was incredible! I think you should really think about getting back out there.”

  “Stop nagging, dude,” I said. “I’m not quite ready to fly down mountains yet.”

  “Maybe that’s exactly what you need. It will cheer you up,” he said, tugging at his hat.

  I paused. Lately he had been saying things like that a lot and it made me wonder if I was just walking around like a giant depressed freak.

  “You think I need cheering up?” I asked.

  “Just a little,” he said.

  I stared at him and could feel those crazy emotions swirling around in my gut. His eyes sparkled. I tried to remember what color they were, but couldn’t. I wanted to say something, but I wasn’t sure how it would turn out.

  “Jesse,” I said. “What color are your eyes?”

  “What color do they look to you?”

  “Light gray,” I said, staring at them. “With little black flecks. But I can’t remember the color.”

  “They’re whatever you see now, Craigers,” he said.

  I knew I should stop there. But I didn’t.

  “I still remember that night. You know, the one when we were looking at the stars?”

  This wasn’t how I wanted to start it. Bad beginning, especially when I saw his face turn pale and his eyes fall to the floor.

  “Yeah, I won’t ever forget that,” he said.

  My stomach was in knots. Big knots. I wanted to hurl. But I needed to push ahead, at the very least let him know that I was wrong about everything that night.

  “I can’t seem to erase that stupid scene from my mind and I wanted you to know how sorry I am about what I said.”

  He sat back in the chair and was quiet.

  “You shouldn’t be sorry for your feelings,” he finally said.

  “But, Jesse, look, I…”

  But he wouldn’t let me finish. He jumped up.

  “I gotta get going,” he said. “It’s not a bad thing, what happened. Really. It turned out for the best. You were right.”

  “But Jesse, my feelings have changed, I love you…”

  I blurted it out as I walked up to him. I sounded stupid and desperate, I knew that. But I had to say it no matter how dumb it made me feel.

  He shook his head and finished putting on his boots. I cautiously walked closer. I knew he still loved me, I could feel it. He gave me a quick hug and then pulled back.

  “I’m sorry Abby, but it’s too late,” he said. Then he left. My stomach dropped as I watched him walk down the street.

  By the time Kate returned from work, I had stopped crying. But it had taken an hour to get my emotions back in check. I hadn’t expected that. I thought Jesse would forgive me.

  “They don’t usually release these,” she said, placing a photograph on the table in front of me. “In fact, Cooper wasn’t even supposed to take it. But anyway, here it is.”

  I stared at the 8x10. It was of the dead man with the mermaid tattoo. The man I saw in my dream.

  “Same guy, huh?”

  “Yeah, it’s him,” I said. It was hard to believe.

  “That’s just so weird,” Kate said. “Seriously, Abby. How could that be?”

  I shrugged. Kate sat down across from me.

  “The medical examiner found water in his lungs,” she said. “So he did drown. Whether it’s a suicide or an accident, they don’t know. The basic toxicology report came back, showed alcohol in his system. But because it showed some other unidentifiable drug too, they’ve sent for a more thorough tox report to a lab in California.”

  “Well, that’s good, I guess.”

  “Yeah. At least they’re keeping the case open until they get that one back. But those take weeks. They aren’t thinking it’s murder, though,” she said. “He didn’t know how to swim. Probably just tripped and fell into the river.”

  I had a strong feeling that wasn’t what happened.

  “I think there’s more to it,” I said after a strong chill shot through my body.

  CHAPTER 9

  A huge Thanksgiving storm dumped over a foot of snow on Bend and once again everything was white. But it was beautiful, especially when you could stay home and watch it fall from the windows. The house was warm and we blasted The Cure, Josh Ritter, and Miles Davis as we cooked. Ten people were coming, making it our largest Thanksgiving ever.

  Jesse never was able to make it because he went down to San Francisco to visit his mom during the holiday. I had never met his mom and he didn’t talk much about her. All I knew was that she worked in a gallery and had left when he was little.

  Since confessing my love to Jesse, our friendship was hanging in a strange kind of limbo. I didn’t see him much and it made for super lonely days at school. I would catch him going to practice or heading to class, and although he would wave, I could tell it was strained. He didn’t sit with me at lunch either, and I wondered if our relationship would ever be the same, if we could even be friends anymore. The entire thing sat like a pit in my gut, not feeling right and not going away.

  “Abby, focus!” Kate yelled as I drifted off. I was stirring cranberries over a burner.

  “Got it,” I said. I hadn’t told Kate about the incident with Jesse and I was planning on keeping it that way. I didn’t know how to get back to our friendship. I would settle for that now. I just kept blowing things.

  Kate looked great. She was wearing a tight black dress that fit perfectly and stilettos that clicked with authority as she walked across the wood floors.

  Matt showed up early and I was glad that Kate put him to work. I was really glad that she covered him in a clean, sterile apron and made him wash his hands for five minutes like he was about to perform surgery.

  “Hey, Abby, you’re looking nice today,” he said when we were alone in the kitchen. I was wearing my Lucky jeans with a collared shirt and a pinstriped vest but I guessed I looked a little more dressed up than my usual sweats. Matt was chopping garlic and was in charge of the stuffing. Truth be told, I actually liked Matt, but more as an eccentric older brother. Not as my sister’s boyfriend.

  “Thanks,” I said. “How’s the new painting going?”

  “Good. I’ll bring it over when it’s done.”

  “Cool,” I said. I was still unclear where Matt even lived, let alone painted.

  Dinner was nearly ready and was going to be good: roasted turkey with rosemary and thyme, creamy sweet potatoes with maple syrup, homemade cranberry sauce and stuffing made with cornbread, cashews, and dried apricots. The guests were all bringing different desserts.

  The doorbell rang. It was Dr. Mortimer and his brother.

  “Hi, please come in,” Kate said, giving Dr. Mortimer a long hug. She was glad to see him, I could tell. I said hello and glanced over at his brother, who was taller and thinner but had the same eyes. He also dressed really well, looking like he had just stepped out of a GQ photo shoot, his silk suit freshly pressed. He had longer dark hair that hung over his collar. He nodded to everyone, smiling shyly.

  “Kate, Abby, Matt, this is my brother, Nathaniel,” Dr. Mortimer said, a hint of pride in his voice. “Another Dr. Mortimer. Bet you didn’t think there were two of us! He lives in Boston and is in town on business.”

  We all said hello and he seemed to relax a little.

  “I’m not just visiting for business reasons,” Nathaniel said. “Of course I wanted to see my brother for Thanksgiving.”

  Dr. Mortimer gave him a sarcastic look.

  Kate led them to the living room as Dr. Mortimer handed her a pink bakery box and a bottle of wine, which she took into the kitchen with Matt.

  “Abby here is my star patient,” Dr. Mortimer said.

  “Of course I remember Abby,” Nathaniel said. “You haven’t stopped talking about her since that night. Abby, I’ve heard all about you. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  I’
m sure I turned six shades of red on the spot, but managed to mumble “thank you,” before Kate returned. She handed me a wineglass filled with Sprite and Dr. Mortimer opened the wine and poured.

  “Happy Thanksgiving everyone,” Kate said, lifting her glass.

  Soon the bell rang again and a bunch of Kate’s reporter friends filled the house. Kate introduced them to the doctor brothers. I knew all of the news staff. Before I could drive, I’d walk over to The Bugler after practice and wait for Kate to finish up. They were all friendly. And I was really glad to see Tony, who was Kate’s editor. He was a large man with an easy laugh. I thought of him as kind of an uncle, someone who we could count on if we needed anything.

  Erin, who was Kate’s best friend, came up and gave me a hug with her big hair nearly suffocating me and slipped a small box in my hand. Inside was a pair of blue earrings. As I thanked her, I noticed she had tears in her eyes. She pulled me close.

  “I’m so happy you’re still with us, Abby,” she whispered in my ear. “You’ve made this a real special Thanksgiving.”

  It felt good to have the house full of delicious smells, a toasty fire, and friendly, fun guests. We put the football game on and muted it and jazzy music weaved around the room. Everybody loved the food and the wine was flowing. The only regret I had was that I wished Jesse could have been with us.

  “Abby, how’s your head been?” Dr. Mortimer asked after dinner.

  “Oh, good,” I said. I hadn’t had a headache since that night.

  “That’s great news,” he said. “Hey, happy Thanksgiving!” He gave me a hug.

  I walked in the kitchen and found Matt slicing up the various pies everybody had brought. I helped him out for a while, until my phone buzzed. It was a text from Jesse. He wrote that he was having an okay time with his mom, but wished he were at the “famous Craigers party.” I texted a quick message back telling him I’d phone him later.

  I headed back to the living room and told Kate that dessert would be ready in about five minutes. Everybody was still seated around the table. They were talking about the snowstorm and how cold it had been.