Page 15 of My Blind Date is a Ghost

“So,” Beverly says, “what happened? How could you make her cry, Beckett?”

“I didn’t,” he says. “She just…needed to let some things out.”

“Exactly,” I say. “You try waking up two hundred years in the future and see if you don’t shed a few tears.”

“Gran says you need some clothes,” Sophia says, changing the subject.

I blush a little. “Beverly was able to find these for me, but she had to use magic to get them to fit.”

Sophia nods. “You definitely need an updated look. You can’t go around looking like you just stepped off the stage of Hamilton, or like an eighty-year-old lady.”

Beverly gasps and slaps Sophia’s arm. “Hey, I am not eighty!”

“Very nearly!” Sophia says. “Besides, Cora needs her own style.”

“Unless you know the Hamilton costumer, I doubt you are going to find anything I’m comfortable in,” I say. I get a little flutter in my chest, remembering seeing Hamilton on Broadway. It was…loud and…bizarre. But at the same time, it was so strangely familiar. I knew many of the characters in the play, and it made me so nostalgic.

“Well, that’s what the mall is for,” Sophia says. “I’m sure we will find you something.”

“Have fun, girls,” Beverly says. “I want to talk to Detective Dawson for a few minutes anyway.”

“Beverly,” I say, my voice a warning. “Remember what I said. I don’t want anyone looking into what happened to me. I just want to live.”

“I know, I know,” she says, waving me off. “Get on out of here already.”

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Cora,” the detective says, shaking my hand gently.

“You too,” I say. The shake lingers, neither of us wanting to let go too quickly. Our eyes meet, and I can see that there is more he wants to say to me.

“Come on,” Sophia says, tugging me away. I let go of Beckett’s hand and follow Sophia out of the shop.

I watch as Beverly and Beckett lean toward each other over the counter. I just know they are talking about me and the bug mystery hanging over my head and my existence. Well, I might not be able to stop them from digging, but I certainly won’t help them.

* * *

I think I drive Sophia a bit crazy as we shop together. She tries to take me to more “trendy” shops, like Abercrombie and Fitch and Urban Outfitters, but I just can’t stand the idea of wearing pants or short skirts. She even takes me to something called Hot Topic to try leggings with the skirts, but I just feel so exposed, I can’t do it.

I finally get her to take me to shops for more “mature” women, which is weird to say. I’m only twenty-eight, around Sophia’s age, but I gravitate toward the more conservative styles. I end up with more skirts and sweaters, boots, and jackets. I do let her take me to Victoria’s Secret for properly fitting undergarments that will work better with the clothes I’ve bought. I do allow myself to be a bit more daring in that regard. No one is going to see them anyway, right?

Finally, she takes me to a salon where I can get my hair cut into a more updated style and have my nails painted. I get my makeup done at the Mac store. By the end of it, I hardly recognize myself. I look like a thoroughly modern woman.

We finally take a break for a late lunch at a Red Lobster. I nearly start drooling as soon as we walk in. The seafood smells amazing. When the server brings out the biscuits, they nearly melt in my mouth. I can’t stop eating them. I have no idea what to order, so Sophia orders a sampler platter so I can try everything. Oh, it is all so divine! The shrimp, the lobster, the crab legs! I feel like a bottomless pit. And just when I think I’m finally done eating, they bring out the dessert menu.

“I’m starting to understand why people today are so much bigger than we were back…you know,” I say as I try to slowly savor each bite of chocolate cake.

“Rude,” Sophia says as she steals a bite. She only had a salad with shrimp and a biscuit. “I know you are only just now trying everything, but you’ll have to slow down eventually or you won’t fit into those new clothes for very long.”

“Fair enough,” I say, but I don’t stop eating my cake. Not today.

“So, what is next for you?” Sophia asks me.

“What do you mean?”

She steals another bite of cake. “Well, if you are planning to live out the rest of your life here, what are you going to do? You’ll need a job, a place to live…”

I sit back in my seat, my stomach finally feeling full. “I don’t think I’ve even been awake for a full twenty-four hours yet. I haven’t given any thought to much beyond what to do right now.”

“That’s fair,” she says. “You’ll need to adjust to just…being alive for a while, I suppose.”

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