Anima's Ghost: The Summer Before (Song Line Echoes, book 2)

Chapter 9: Close to Home

"Anima, breakfast!" Grandma Powell calls out through the back screen door while I'm out playing with Leylina. We both stop, looking over, then head inside. Breakfast is all laid out and Grandma Powell's just sitting down, but Spyro's standing in the kitchen doorway, talking on the corded phone that hangs on the wall just inside the kitchen. Grandma Powell looks slightly annoyed when she glances at him, but doesn't say anything, both of us keeping quiet so we don't disturb him as we start eating.

"Well I'm trying to have breakfast right now," Spyro says into the phone. "Nothing, I'm talking to you. ... That depends on when I get to eat breakfast. ... Well I'm a sixteen year old boy being kept away from food, what do you expect?" A short laugh escapes me at that before I manage to clamp my lips shut. Spyro looks over and smiles. "Yes, ma'am," Spyro nods. "As soon as I'm done eating. ... Well when are you going to let me go eat? An hour. ... Yes, I promise. ... I don't know how to do anything stronger than a promise, so I guess you'll have to take my word for it." After another pause, he groans, "Mom! Please, I'm begging you. I'm starving. ... Thank you." He hangs up and finally comes over to join me and Grandma Powell at the table. "My dad probably says a maximum of 100 words a year," Spyro tells me as he puts a couple pancakes on his plate. "I wish he was the one who made the calls." Grandma Powell chuckles at that.

"You'll be going home after breakfast, then?" Grandma Powell asks.

Spyro nods. "I'll be back in a few days," he says, but he's looking at me instead of Grandma Powell. "And I'm still with the group during the days." It's weird to realize that Spyro and I have been in the same house at night ever since we met in person. It's even weirder to realize that was only about a week ago.

After breakfast, Spyro gets his suitcase out of his room at Grandma Powell's and takes it out to his truck. Leylina follows him, and I follow behind them both as far as the front porch so that I can make sure Leylina doesn't try to go with him. Once his suitcase is in the backseat, Spyro comes back over to the porch, but doesn't come back up it. I cross my arms over the top of the railing, leaning forward over them a little bit.

"You going to be okay here on your own?"

"You remember I was completely alone when we met, don't you?"

"Yeah, and you got attacked by a ghost," Spyro points out. "Is this supposed to be reassuring to me?" I almost laugh, realizing he does have a point. My track record with him may be short, but it's not exactly reassuring. He puts his hands on either side of my arms on the railing, his expression serious as he asks again, "Are you going to be okay?"

"I'll be fine," I tell him, even though I'm not entirely sure. He doesn't look like he's entirely convinced either, even though my voice sounded steady – to me, at least.

"Call me if you need to."

"Spyro."

"What?"

"Go spend time with your parents."

Spyro smiles a little bit, but I can still see the worry in his eyes. He lingers for another few seconds, looking like he wants to say something else. But he doesn't. He just turns and goes back to his truck. Leylina stays with me this time, and Spyro waves before pulling out of the driveway.

Grandma Powell must have gone outside or to her room, because when I go back inside, the house feels quiet and empty. Ghastly rubs against my leg and I bend down to scoop him up into my arms, carrying him as I wander through the house.

There's a spot in Grandma Powell's house, a nook tucked away under the stairs. The loveseat in that spot is vintage, but well taken care of, and there are dozens of framed pictures hanging on the back wall. In the center is a family portrait, obviously taken long before Spyro was born. But I recognize the clothes that the people are wearing as some of the same ones that I've seen in the attic. There's a baby, twin girls who look about seven, and a boy who looks about ten, along with their parents. They all look so serious except for the baby, who was giggling when the photo was taken. I wonder if that's Grandma Powell.