“I know you’re new to this whole parenting thing,” Mom interrupts, “but I don’t go around telling my daughter school isn’t important.”
“Apologies.” Aidan glances at his watch once more, even though there’s no way more than a minute or two has passed since the last time he looked. “Sunshine’s teachers won’t even notice she’s gone,” he promises. “They’ll send you a report card at the end of the school year just as though she never left.”
Mom opens her mouth to protest—I know what she’s going to say, something about learning being more important than grades—but this time I’m the one who interrupts. “What do you mean at the end of the year? Just how long am I going to be gone?”
“As long as it takes.”
Another nonanswer answer. I’m about to ask As long as what takes, but I have a hunch he’s not going to answer—again!—so instead I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Nolan’s number. I’ve already talked to him once this morning to tell him exactly what happened last night.
Before I can hit the call button, I shiver as a wave of cold air crashes into me. It’s the unmistakable coldness of a nearby spirit, but this time it’s different. The sensation hits me like someone throwing a bucket of ice water over my head. Then I notice Aidan’s slightly outstretched hand, summoning the nearby spirit. He’s pulling it toward us with such strength and focus that my jaw drops in wonderment. In the blink of an eye the dead man’s spirit is upon us. He’s in his midsixties, half of his face is limp, sagging toward the ground, and the other half is filled with fear. He died from a severe and sudden stroke.
Quickly Aidan touches the man’s shoulder, and the spirit dissolves into a ball of light. Aidan’s face doesn’t register a single emotion. At once I’m in awe of his ability and disturbed by his lack of emotion. Is that my future?
Suddenly I remember what I was doing, and I hit the call button and press the phone to my ear as I wait for Nolan to pick up. “What about Nolan’s teachers?” I ask. Report card or no report card, Nolan’s going to be pretty upset about potentially missing a semester or more of school.
“Nolan isn’t coming,” Aidan answers.
“What do you mean he isn’t coming?” I echo, ignoring Nolan’s voice saying Hello on the other end of the phone line. “He’s my protector! How safe can wherever you’re bringing me be without him?”
“Our work doesn’t require him. And you know by now a protector’s role isn’t to protect you physically. He protects you by gathering the information you need to complete your tasks.”
But . . . I only know that because Nolan helped me figure it out. I don’t think it ever occurred to me that, whatever I was agreeing to when I said I’d start working with Aidan, Nolan wasn’t going to be a part of it.
“Where am I going to get the information I need if Nolan isn’t there to help me?”
Aidan looks surprised by my question. “From me, of course,” he replies simply.
On the other end of the phone I hear Nolan hanging up. I don’t have to call back and ask him what he’s doing. I already know.
He’s on his way here.
Later, after Mom has served Aidan tea at our kitchen table and he’s more or less convinced Mom that I should go with him, and after I’ve packed my clothes into an enormous duffle bag and stuff my backpack with every Jane Austen book I own (all six of them, obviously), Nolan is waiting for me on our front steps. He’s still wearing that silly hat, so I playfully pull it off his head and hand it to him.
“I can’t take you seriously when you’re wearing that hat,” I joke. Nolan doesn’t even crack a smile.
“This is ridiculous,” he says.
“I know. It’s an awful color combination.” I hold up the hat. Nolan remains stone-faced. Okay, Sunshine, stop trying to make the hat joke work.
“No. This is ridiculous.” He waves his hands as if he’s trying to encompass our whole lives. “How am I supposed to protect you if I’m not with you?”
“Aidan said I don’t need you.” I bite my lip. I didn’t mean to say it quite like that. I mean, that is what Aidan said, but I didn’t mean to make it sound like I agreed.
“Here.” I hold out his grandfather’s butter-soft brown leather jacket between us. This jacket was the first thing I ever noticed about Nolan. When he gave it to me for good luck, I thought I’d never want to take it off. “Aidan says it’s warmer where we’re going. I won’t . . .” I bite my lip again, stopping myself before I can say I won’t need the jacket. Bad enough I already said I wouldn’t need him.