Page 73 of Wish I Were Here
“I’m just—” I stuff my to-do list back in my bag. I’ll write up a new one when I get home and actually check some things off this time. “I’m just thinking of how much I have to do before the semester starts. I should go and get some work done.”
“Seven o’clock at Melanie’s, right?” He shoots a quick glance at Dad. “Did you tell Andy that you met her yet?”
I shake my head. “No. I’d like to wait and see what she has to say about the birth certificate first. My dad was so against me contacting her, I don’t want him to try to talk me out of it.”
Luca wrinkles his brow. “Now that I’m getting to know your dad, it does seem strange that he’d keep this kind of secret from you for all these years.”
I turn to study Dad up on the stage. He’s standing next to Uncle Vito, waving his arms and telling a story. Maybe it’s the flammable boat and chain mail swim again. Inexplicably, Uncle Vito is bent over, clutching his abdomen with his bulging forearms, his shoulders vibrating with laughter. I shake my head. I don’t have an explanation. “I just hope Melanie will be able to give me some answers.”
I’m about to head out, when I remember the prospect of climbing eight flights of stairs back at the DeGreco. “Did you know the elevator is still broken?”
Luca mutters something under his breath. It sounds like a curse, followed by “Mrs. Hartman.” He raises an arm to flag Dante down off a ladder.
“What’s up, cuz?” Dante asks after they’ve done their handshake-hug thing.
“Mrs. Hartman.”
Dante lets out a heavy sigh. “She broke it again?”
I picture the older woman I met when she was pushing a walker onto the elevator earlier this week. She seemed so sweet and unassuming. “How is it possible that this woman has broken the elevator half a dozen times, and you haven’t evicted her yet?”
“We’d need a séance to evict her,” Luca mutters.
“That’s not a bad idea.” Dante taps his chin. “Hell of a lot easier than dragging my ladder over there again.”
Now I’m even more confused. “Can someone please explain what you’re talking about?”
Luca and Dante exchange a glance.
“Mrs. Hartman passed away six months ago,” Luca finally says.
“So how could she possibly be…” I stand up straighter, his words registering. Six months ago? “Wait a minute. I met Mrs. Hartman on the elevator a few days ago. She was very much alive.”
Luca tilts his head. “Are yousureabout that?”
I stare at him, waiting for his smile to break through. But he just returns my gaze impassively.
“Mrs. Hartman,” I say the name slowly. “The short woman with curly white hair? She uses a walker with fake flowers tied to the handlebar?”
“Yep.” Dante nods. “That’s Mrs. Hartman.”
“You’re saying that woman passed away six months ago.”
“I know it sounds crazy…” Luca begins, but I cut him off.
“You think the building hasghosts?” My gaze swingsback and forth between the two men. “Ghosts who vandalize the elevator?”
Luca lifts a shoulder. “It’s an old building, and lots of people lived there for their whole lives. Some like to hang around for a while. You know… after…”
Dante nods. “Mrs. Hartman caught her husband kissing Judith from 5C on the elevator a couple of months before she died.”
“People canreallyhold a grudge,” Luca adds.
Mrs. Hartman smiled and called medearie. She seemed as inconvenienced by the broken elevator situation as I was. There was no brush of cold air on the back of my neck, no moment where the older woman suddenly disappeared and then reappeared. Would a ghost really need a walker? Wouldn’t she just float along unencumbered?
This whole story is completely preposterous.
But of course it is. I remember Luca’s joking tone in the hospital basement when he was trying to convince me there were ghosts in the morgue, his amusement that the idea made me uneasy. Is he teasing me again now? Or is this an excuse because Dante didn’t fix the elevator correctly?
