Page 50 of Wish For Me

“Mom!” Noelle says.

“He’s not going to teach at a community college,” her dad says.

I can’t believe she moved back home.

“How’s your grandfather?” Noelle’s dad asks. “Haven’t seen him at the squash club lately.”

“He’s got a heart murmur,” Enzo says, answering for me.

I register what Enzo says. I’m pretty sure our grandfather’s health isn’t public knowledge. “He’s fine,” I say, tearing my eyes from Noelle. “Not moving quite as fast but still doing fine.”

“How about your father?” Noelle’s dad asks.

I’m so surprised it takes me a minute to say, “He’s good. Still working a little.”

Do they know each other?

But he’s already asking Enzo about his dad, then they’re chatting property. Her mom moves aside to help a customer.

“Noelle, can we talk?” I ask.

“Sure, let’s talk,” she says.

I didn’t mean here. Nothing is going the way I wanted our first meeting to. I pictured picking her up at her parents’ place, a giant bouquet of flowers in my hand. Or something a little less trite but no less special.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Yes. Fine.”

“Why did you move—”

But Enzo lets out a big laugh, drowning us out. I want very badly to tell him to shut up. But when I look back at Noelle, she’s looking at my cousin with curiosity.

I feel a streak of jealousy so hot I feel my jaw pop.

To my surprise she says, “You’re the one who saw the ghost.”

Enzo, who was about to say something to her dad, makes a strange coughing sound. “What?”

“Eleanor Cleary,” Noelle says. “You saw her.”

Enzo shoots me a murderous look.

“She’s been bugging her father for the old police records,” Noelle’s mom says, done with her sale.

“It’s the adoption records I wanted,” Noelle says.

Enzo looks sweaty. “Hey,” he says to me, “I have to get going.”

“We all should,” Noelle’s dad says. “Let you two get back to business.”

“Noelle,” I say, something twisting inside of me. It’s panic. It feels ridiculous, but it’s like if I let her go now, I’m going to lose her. How did this all go so terribly wrong?

“Can I see you later?” At her dad’s narrowed eyes, I say, “for coffee or something?”

She meets my eyes. “I—”

“How about the sleigh ride?” Enzo asks.

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