The Ghost Runner by Blair Richmond Page A

him. “To start a new life. What if I don’t want you here?”
    â€œThen I’ll leave. You just say the word.”
    â€œReally?”
    â€œI promise.”
    Not that his promises mean anything. But just hearing him say it makes me feel a little better. As if I really do have control over my own life for once.
    â€œI know I’ve got to earn back your trust,” he says. “And I aim to do just that. But only so long as you’re okay with it.”
    â€œI guess we’ll see how it goes.” I pick at my pasta. “What are you going to do for work?”
    â€œI guess I’ll look for something in construction. Worked for me back then, before those damned environmentalists put me out of work.”
    â€œYou know, I’m an environmentalist,” I say.
    â€œI know you are.” He smiles. “I’m only kidding with you. To be honest, I look up at these hills, and I’m glad they shut us down. These hills would be stripped bare if we’d had our way.”
    I study him, wondering for a moment whether my real father has been replaced by an alien. I’ve seen vampires here in Lithia—and now, maybe ghosts—why not aliens, too? It’s the only explanation I can think of for why he’s here, talking to me, being nice.
    He asks me about my job, about school. I still don’t trust him, but I tell him a little about the store, about my training, that I won Cloudline. When the check arrives, I watch him leave a healthy tip for the waiter, and we walk to an ice cream shop a block away. He gets a scoop of vanilla, and I get a chocolate-almond sorbet. We walk alongside the creek.
    â€œI’m proud of you,” he says.
    â€œYou are?”
    â€œOf course,” he says. “I know I should have told you that a long time ago. I hope it’s not too late.”
    I shrug as if I don’t care—but I have to admit that it’s a nice thing to hear.
    We continue along the creek in silence. We weren’t a religious family when I was growing up—not in the formal sense, meaning my dad was too hungover on Sundays to get out of bed, let alone go to services, and my mother was far more at home in nature than in a church. But I do remember, in those early years here in Lithia, looking up at the night sky, the stars, imagining that someone or something was up there, watching over me. It helped me feel less alone, especially after my mom died and I had no one else. Even having someone look after me the way Alex has promised to isn’t the same as having a parent who loves you.
    Now, for the first time in years, I have a father again—the only family I have left. And I find myself wanting to believe that everything he says is true.

Seven
    H ow do you introduce your real family to your adopted family? It’s not easy, which is why I want to avoid it as long as I can, possibly forever.
    After all, David isn’t a fan of my father; I didn’t exactly paint a pretty picture. He’ll probably be shocked to know we’ve been in touch at all, let alone that I’ve had dinner with him. I know he’ll think I’m crazy on one hand and want to protect me on the other. Alex will feel the same—and I can’t blame either of them. I’m not sure what I’m doing.
    I’ve seen my father a couple of times since our dinner—once for coffee at the student union, where Lucy met him briefly and a little sternly. But he managed to charm her with his new, easygoing smile and even bought her a mocha. We met again for lunch a couple days later, and that was when he asked about meeting David and Alex. I want to be a part of your life, Katie , he said, and I told him there was plenty of time to meet everyone. I didn’t tell him that Lucy was the only one who even knew he was in town.
    Then it happens: I’m in the back of the store ordering new shoes when I hear laughter coming from the sales floor. I know that