I wondered, as I stood there, waiting for the popcorn to pop, what my dad thought of all this. He hadn't been too enthused about Mom's remarrying, even though, as I've said, Andy is a pretty great guy. He'd been even less enthused about my moving out to the West Coast.
"How," he'd wanted to know, when I told him, "am I going to pop in on you when you're living three thousand miles away?"
"The point, Dad," I'd said to him, "is that you aren't supposed to be popping in on me. You're supposed to be dead, remember? You're supposed to be doing whatever it is dead people do, not spying on me and Mom."
He'd looked sort of hurt by that. "I'm not spying," he'd said. "I'm just checking up. To make sure you're happy, and all of that."
"Well, I am," I'd assured him. "I'm very happy, and so is Mom."
I'd been lying, of course. Not about Mom, but about me. I'd been a nervous wreck at the prospect of moving. Even now, I wasn't really sure it was going to work out. This thing with. Jesse … I mean, where was my dad, anyway? Why wasn't he upstairs kicking that guy's butt? Jesse was, after all, a boy, and he was in my bedroom, and fathers are supposed to hate that kind of thing....
But that's the thing about ghosts. They are never around when you actually need them. Even, if they happen to be your dad.
I guess I must have zoned out for a little while because next thing I knew, the microwave was dinging. I took the popcorn out and opened the bag. I was pouring it into a big wooden bowl when my mom came into the kitchen and switched on the overhead light.
"Hi, honey," she said. Then she looked at me. "Are you all right, Suzie?"
"Sure, Mom," I said. I shoveled some popcorn into my mouth. "Dope – I mean, Brad and I are gonna watch a movie."
"Are you sure?" My mother was peering at me curiously. "Are you sure you're all right?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired, is all."
She looked relieved. "Oh, yes. Well, I expected you'd have a bit of jet lag. But … well, it's just that you looked so upset when you first walked into your room upstairs. I know the canopy bed was a bit much, but I couldn't resist."
I chewed. I was totally used to this kind of thing. "The bed's fine, Mom," I said. "The room's fine, too."
"I'm so glad," my mom said, pushing a strand of hair from my eyes. "I'm so glad you like it, Suze."
My mother looked so relieved, I sort of felt sorry for her, in a way. I mean, she's a nice lady and doesn't deserve to have a mediator for a daughter. I know I've always been a bit of a disappointment to her. When I turned fourteen, she got me my own phone line, thinking so many boys would be calling me, her friends would never be able to get through. You can imagine how disappointed she was when nobody except Gina ever called me on my private line, and then it was usually only to tell me about the dates she'd been on. Like I said, the boys in my neighborhood were never much interested in asking me out.
My poor mom. She always wanted a nice, normal teenage daughter. Instead, she got me.
"Honey," she said. "Don't you want to change? You've been wearing those same clothes since six o'clock this morning, haven't you?"
She asked me this right as Doc was coming in to get more glue for his electrodes. Not that I was going to say anything like, Well, to tell you the truth, Mom, I'd like to change, but I'm not real excited about doing it in front of the ghost of the dead cowboy that's living in my room.
Instead, I shrugged and said, with elaborate casualness, "Yeah, well, I'm gonna change in a bit."
"Are you sure you don't want help unpacking? I feel terrible. I should have – "
"No, I don't need any help. I'll unpack in a bit.' I watched Doc forage through a drawer. "I better go," I said. "I don't want to miss the beginning of the movie."
Of course, in the end, I missed the beginning middle, and end of the movie. I fell asleep on the couch, and didn't wake up until Andy shook my shoulder a little after eleven.
"Up and at'em, kiddo," he said. "I think it's time to admit you've gone down for the count. Don't worry. Brad won't tell anybody."
I got up, groggily, and made my way up to my room. I headed straight for the windows, which I yanked open. To my relief there was no Jesse to block the way. Yes. I've still got it.
I grabbed my duffel bag and went into the bathroom where I showered and, just to be on the safe side – I didn't know for sure whether or not Jesse had gotten the message and vamoosed – changed into my pajamas. When I came out of the bathroom, I was a little more awake. I looked around, feeling the cool breeze seeping in, smelling the salt in the air. Unlike back in Brooklyn where our ears were under constant assault by sirens and car alarms, it was quiet in the hills, the only sound the occasional hoot of an owl.
I found, rather to my surprise, that I was alone. Really alone. A ghost-free zone. Exactly what I'd always wanted.
I got into bed and clapped my hands, dousing the lights. Then I snuggled deep beneath my crisp new sheets.
Just before I fell asleep again, I thought I heard something besides the owl. It sounded like someone singing the words Oh, Susannah, now don't you cry for me, 'cause I come from Alabama with this banjo on my knee.
But that, I'm sure, was just my imagination.