22

It felt like my skin was getting a good steaming when I stepped outside.

I carried Aunt Odie’s newest creation. Almond Bundt cake with vanilla icing. Crispy. Buttery. Just the right amount of sweet.

Made with love.

“So you see a ghost?” I had asked her.

“No.”

“Does one help you measure the ingredients?”

“Don’t make fun now, honey. You know they don’t. You do.”

“I’m not making fun,” I had said, and ran a knife across a full cup of flour, making it smooth. Flour needs to be exact.

Aunt Odie had set aside the sifter. “It happens between being awake and going to sleep. That’s when I see it. But not always.” She raised a finger to me. “I have to be worthy. I have to have made the best of the last recipe. I’ve learned that over the years. So the recipes come in waves. Sometimes nothing. Then, when I have made the most of the last gift, that blank three-by-five. A hand—it looks different every time, I’m guessing because it’s a new person with a recipe—writes out the words.” She raised her other pointer finger at me. “And, voilà!”

Only she said it Vo-la.

Now I stepped on the porch, remembering.

Seemed like a lot of work for getting a new recipe. Of course, sometimes you have to work for a Gift. Momma and Aunt Odie and the rest of the Messengers all say that.

Sheesh.

It’s a Gift, I thought, walking home. Something should be easy about a Gift.

Heat rose off the street. Did I look like a mirage going in the middle of the road carrying a delicious Bundt cake like this? The light scent of vanilla floated around me.

Eight houses down and I was home.

“Momma?” I called when I got inside.

The place was silent.

A note waited for me on the kitchen table. I set Aunt Odie’s newest creation down and read,

Off with Baby Lucy.

Someone called for you.

I gave him your number.

Be back after the show.

Him?

My heart pitter-pattered.

I opened the fridge, pulled out the OJ, and drank from the pitcher. Momma couldn’t stop me, seeing she wasn’t here. I patted my hip pocket. Where was my phone?

I pulled off my dirty-slash-sweaty T-shirt and headed down the hall toward the laundry room.

Stripped off my shorts and underclothing. Hurried to my bedroom, cooling off with the AC and my nakedness.

In my room, I pulled new stuff outta the dresser. (Oh, there it was. My phone sat next to the mirror. I’d forgotten to take it. And it looked like I had four text messages and had even missed a few phone calls. I would shower, then check.)

Did Buddy call? I thought as I stepped into the lukewarm water.

Soaped up.

Rinsed off.

Thought of that ghostlike kiss on my lips.

Dried off.

Got dressed and walked right back to where Tommie sat on the edge of my bed.