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KEENE

T he next day, I entered the campus library with my insides knotted into a bundle of nerves. I’d put off doing this because I was a fucking coward and not ready to let go, even though I knew it was the right thing to do.

I just—I really hated to say goodbye. Again.

But if arrogant, I-make-no-mistakes Katherine Breeker could admit she’d messed up and ask her daughter for forgiveness, I could face my mother and send her on to the other side.

Waverly had texted between my first and second class, letting me know she’d already talked to her dad, and he was relieved she and her mom had worked things out, but she had no idea what that meant for him and her mom.

I really hoped they didn’t divorce over this.

I knew their problems were their own, but I’d forever be known as the asshole who’d split their family apart if they didn’t work it out.

And I didn’t want that kind of strain on Waverly.

It’d be really nice if she could get a damn break from problems for once. The kid deserved it.

I was starting to understand why her mom had hulked out so much on me in the beginning. I wanted to step in and try to protect our girl from everything too. But life was going to be life no matter how hard I tried to shield her from it, and I wanted her to be able to live it for herself.

Though maybe I’d just step in occasionally to help out when I could.

Smirking at the headline blaring up at me from the school newspaper propped in its wire display in the library lobby, claiming how six basketball players had just been cut from the team, I started to whistle smugly to myself as I slipped my hands casually into my pockets and headed to the back corner of the first floor.

Passing through a maze of tall shelves, I found the door that went to the basement, and I jogged down until I came to another door that I pushed open.

The damp air smelled old and humid, and the two dehumidifiers I passed were humming noisily, working overtime to dry the basement the best they could.

At an opening between shelves, I turned right and saw someone already seated at the pair of tables nestled in a small opening.

With her backpack propped on the table next to her, she had a pile of books heaped on either side as she studied.

“Hey,” I greeted with a happy smile as I approached. “Thanks for agreeing to meet me.”

Faith looked up from her homework and answered, “No problem. I’d actually been needing to stop by for a while now.” Hitching her head toward the collection of hardbacks, she added, “Robin’s been helping me with some research.”

As she spoke, a book came floating from between the stacks.

But it dropped flat to the floor upon seeing me and another handful came tumbling off the shelves, jauntily hurrying my way until they arranged themselves in front of me, spelling out the word Sunshine with the first letter of every title my ghost mom showed me.

I smiled, and tears immediately filled my eyes, already missing her and hating that she was never going to call me her sunshine again.

“Hey, Mom,” I choked out, wiping a hand over my face. “Woods here hasn’t been giving you too much work, has she?”

From the table, Faith scoffed but interpreted for my mother, saying, “She likes having something to do.”

“Well,” I muttered, heaving out a depressed breath as I flopped down on the tabletop opposite Faith and swung one leg sadly. “I’m gonna fix your boredom real shortly here.”

Faith’s gaze flashed up to mine, and her lips parted with realization.

As someone who could actually see ghosts and hear them speak, she’d been the first person a little over a year ago to discover that my mother was still around and haunting this building.

She’d also been here when I learned what it would take to help my mom move on.

At first, I’d been insistent on the idea that she leave the land of the living.

I wanted her to be in some kind of heavenly paradise, getting served Mai Tai’s on a beach or whatever instead of stuck here where no one could touch her or truly interact with her.

But after only a few weeks of being around her again, I grew attached to her ghost version just as much as I had the live one.

Now, I was torn between what I knew was best for her and what I wanted for myself.

I nodded once at Faith to let her know her suspicions were correct. I was finally picking my mother’s needs over mine, and I’d asked her here to be my translator.

“So I need to talk to you, Mom,” I started, swallowing as the pain came, already creeping over me and taking hold of my windpipe.

The chill of my mother’s touch followed. Her hands were in my hair, I could feel the cold seeping over my scalp and I closed my eyes, savoring it while I could.

“She wants to know if you’re here to talk about Waverly,” Faith told me, and my eyes shot open in surprise. But Faith cracked a grin. “She’s come up with a way to teach her how to shelve better.”

I sniffed out a half-amused, half-pained sound. “Well, you’re half right,” I noted. “This is about Waverly.”

In answer, a dozen books came bobbing into sight and piling up on the table, all of them about cataloging.

Setting my hand on the top of the stack, I pushed the books slightly away. “But I don’t want to talk about library stuff.”

“She’s confused,” Faith told me.

“Yeah, I bet,” I muttered, turning in the direction I thought my mother was so I could address her directly. “Do you remember what you told me when I first discovered you were here? When you told me what needed to happen before you could move on from this place?”

“She says she can’t go until her purpose is complete, until you find someone who loves you as much as she did,” Faith informed me. “You have to experience true love.”

“Yeah.” I drew in a deep breath, then said, “So about that?—”

But I was cut off by a door opening and the clatter of footsteps until a breathless Waverly appeared at the end of the stacks, her hair flying out behind her.

“Sorry, I’m late,” she started, coming toward me, her cheeks flushed with color, probably from running in the February chill to get here. It made her look stunning. “The professor kept us late, and—oh!” She slowed to a stop when she saw Faith sitting at the table behind me. “Hi.”

Faith waved and sent her a sad smile in return. “Hey, Waverly.”

Reaching out, I took Waverly’s hand to draw her to the table where I was sitting on the edge. “You’re not late,” I assured. “You’re right on time.” And smiling softly, I lifted my other hand to play with her new bangs.

Gaze darting questioningly from me to Faith, she paused before slowly asking, “In time for…what exactly?”

Looking down at our connected hands and playing with her fingernails, I asked, “Did I ever tell you what was keeping my mom here? What her unfinished business was?”

When I glanced up, Waverly’s eyes were wide with surprise. Shaking her head, she said, “No. You never have.”

I winced. “Yeah. Well, there was probably a reason for that. I didn’t want you to know.”

While hurt flashed in Waverly’s eyes, Faith cried out an incredulous, “Keene! Way to be tactful about it.”

I lifted a hand to immediately calm Waverly. “Shit, no. I didn’t mean that in a bad way. I just—fuck, I’m really botching this up, aren’t I?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Faith muttered from behind me.

When I sent her a dark glance, she shrugged. “Well, you are.”

Sighing, I turned back to Waverly. “Okay. So when I realized you were Mystery Girl, I knew it. Deep down where I didn’t want to admit it yet, where the denial was thick and real, I knew you could be the catalyst to me losing my mother all over again.

” As my eyes welled, I shook my head to deny the pain and kept talking.

“And even though I knew she needed to move on, I wasn’t ready.

I wasn’t ready for her to go yet. So I—” Wiping at my face, I glanced away for a moment to build my courage before turning back to Waverly.

“I might’ve avoided you for that week on purpose. To keep my mom here.”

Mouth opening, Waverly shook her head, but it took her another moment to utter, “I don’t understand.

How am I the reason she has to go? I don’t want her to leave.

I like your mom.” She cringed and added, “I mean, she constantly gets on my case about my book shelving because she doesn’t know the new guidelines, but she’s amazing. She…gets me.”

Clearing her throat gently, Faith broke in saying, “Robin says she has affection for you too, Waverly.” Glancing at me, she winced. “And, Keene, your mom says she finds your choice acceptable.”

Tears gushed down my cheeks as I nodded. “Good. Thank God.” Because there was no way in hell I was going to change my choice if she hadn’t.

“Choice?” Waverly broke in, sounding panicked. “What choice? What is happening right now? Why are you so…?” As if already figuring it out for herself, she let go of my hand and shook her head, backing away in horror.

I slid off the table and stepped toward her. “When she died, my mom couldn’t move on because she didn’t want to leave me alone. I had to find someone who would love me as much as she did. I had to experience true love before she could go.”

Shaking her head in denial, Waverly said, “No.” Clutching her stomach, she bent slightly at the waist and turned in a circle, talking to my mom. “I don’t love him. He doesn’t love me. Do you hear that? You don’t have to go. Just…stay. Okay? He needs you here.”

“Waves,” I whispered, reaching for her, but she jerked away, breathing hard.

“No,” she sobbed. “This can’t be right. You just helped me repair my relationship with my mother. And I’m—what—supposed to help you lose yours? No. That’s not—that can’t be how this goes.”

“Baby, I’ve already lost her,” I explained. “I lost her a long time ago. And she doesn’t belong here now. She needs to move on.”

Waverly’s shoulders shook as she cried. “But I don’t want her to go.”

“I don’t either,” I said, opening my arms when she finally stepped toward me. Gathering her close in my embrace, I kissed her hair. “But I’m secure in the fact that she loved me until her dying breath. And I have you now. I’m going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.”

She nodded against my chest, even as she said, “It’s not going to be the same without her.”

“No,” I agreed, closing my eyes and resting my cheek against Waverly’s hair. “But we’ll figure it out, one day at a time.”

As I held her, two books floated over to me.

Lifting my face from my girl, I took in the titles. One was a volume of poetry that read Sunshine and Waves .

Nudging Waverly, I said, “Look. She really does approve of us.”

Waverly pulled away to look at the title.

Wiping her face, she smiled weepily and spoke to the air.

“Thank you, Ms. Laterman. I’m going to miss you.

You’ve made such an amazing son. I promise to love him with my whole heart.

Being with him has made me want to really live for the first time in my life. ”

Warmth flooded me, and Waverly gasped. Lifting her hand, she whispered, “Do you feel that?”

On the other side of the table, Faith pointed above us. “Holy shit. Do you see that?”

I glanced up but saw nothing. “What?”

“It’s a big, fucking bright light.”

“The light,” Waverly murmured in awe, looking up too but furrowing her brow when she didn’t see anything either.

Turning to the floating books, I said, “It’s okay, Mom. Go into the light. I’ll be alright now.”

She nudged the second book my way, and I looked down at the children’s story that was called I Love You, My Sunshine .

“I love you too,” I rasped, my chest filling with overwhelming pressure. “Always will.”

A second later, the warmth evaporated, and the chill of the basement crept over me.

“She’s gone,” Faith announced sadly, but I already knew she was.

“Keene,” Waverly sobbed, throwing herself at me. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and cried into my throat.

I clutched her back, murmuring, “No, no. Don’t apologize. In fact, thank you. Thank you for helping me send her to her final resting place. I think she’s at peace now.”

Pulling back, Waverly looked into my eyes with concern. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

I bounced my eyebrows suggestively. “I mean, I have a couple of really good ideas of how you can help me cope, but yeah…eventually.”

Faith groaned. “Oh my God, Keene, really ?”

Ignoring her, I touched Waverly’s cheek. “I have you now,” I whispered. “I’m gonna be just fine.”