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“No, you’re not. I can tell, remember?”
I harrumphed, which made Andrea snicker.
“I want you to picture Mr. Wainwright. His gray hair is all frizzy and standing off of his head like he’s been struck by lightning. He’s smiling, because he thought he’d lost his glasses again, but they were just stuck on top of his head. Can you see him?”
I nodded.
“So talk to him.”
“I feel silly,” I whispered.
“Mr. Wainwright has seen us do far stupider things than this,” Andrea muttered. “Someday we’ll show you all the pictures from the Halloween party.”
“Gilbert Wainwright,” I called. “This is your granddaughter. I need your help. Please, wherever you are, please come closer to this place, where you used to spend so much time, and speak to your friends.”
I sighed and rolled the dice several times. The letters spelled absolute nonsense. Sheepishly, I told Jane, “I feel ridiculous.”
“G.R.F.K.B.,” Jane said. “Maybe it’s a Klingon ghost?”
Andrea buried her face in her hands and dropped her forehead onto the table. I giggled and took the die. “Please,” I whispered, completely sincere. “I really need help. I don’t know what I’m doing. Anything I’ve managed to accomplish is the result of blind stinking luck. I could really use a clue or a hint or something.”
“K.J.O.W.P.L.,” Jane said as I rolled the die.
“Come on!” I cried. “My grandmother made a glowing moon appear against my ceiling. You can’t play a silly word game with me?”
“S.O.R.R.Y.,” Jane read, grinning widely and jostling Andrea’s arm while she bounced up and down in her seat. “Mr. Wainwright? Thanks for talking to us. We miss you. Is Aunt Jettie OK?”
“L.O.V.E.”
“Aw, that’s nice,” Jane said. “Tell her I love her, too.”
“Very sweet,” I agreed. “It’s nice to, uh, meet you. Mr. Wainwright, I’m sorry to cut to the chase, but I’m afraid we could lose this connection any second. I need to find the objects Nan—Fiona gave you.”
“N.O.T. G.I.L.B.E.R.T.”
Gabriel’s eyebrows shot up, his hand gripping Jane’s even more tightly. “Not Gilbert?”
“I told you!” Andrea hissed. “This way leads to pea-soup vomiting and madness.”
“Who are you?” Gabriel asked.
“N.A.N.A.”
“Nana Fee?” I shouted.
I couldn’t seem to find words or air. I’d missed my grandmother so much, and here she was, talking to me through a silly party game. Even though I’d had time to prepare for her death, there were still so many things I wanted to say to her. I felt the tears trail down my cheeks. Jane slipped her arm around my shoulder and squeezed me against her side.
Jane rolled the die again. “M.O.T.H.E.R.”
“My mother’s dead,” I whispered to Jane.
“Maybe it’s mother as in my mama?” Jane said.
“Well, your mother had the candle. Maybe she’s referring to that,” I said. “Yes, Nana, we know Jane’s mother’s had the candle. Do you know where we might find the other three?”
“M.O.T.H.E.R.,” I said after we rolled the dice and it spelled the same word.
“G.” Jane said. “A.G.A. Was your nana a Lady Gaga fan?”
