The Presence by Eve Bunting

since your time is so short. And selfish old lady that I am, I told him I saw no reason why he and I shouldn't share you." She fished a tissue out of the pocket of her jeans and gave it to me. "So he's coming for dinner."
    She yawned an exaggerated yawn. "Since I didn't get my reading nap today, and now that I've done all this cooking or baking or whatever you call it, I expect I'll go to bed early and leave you two youngsters to your own devices."
    "Oh, Grandma!" I gave a choked-up laugh. "I hope you didn't tell him that!"
    "Of course I did. Why do you think he's so eager to come?"
    The doorbell rang. "Who?" Grandma began, and I thought, "Could it be Noah?" Had he come to find out why I hadn't gone to St. Matthew's? Why did the thought of Noah terrify me now? Because ... because...
    I stood, not wanting to go into the living room and open the door. Grandma moved quickly past me.
    "My goodness," I heard her say in a happy voice. "What a lovely surprise!"
    She spoke over her shoulder to me. "It's Maureen and Rita and Arthur, come to call. And bearing gifts."
    Rita laughed. "Sorry, Eunice. They're for Catherine, not for you."
    "Well, I'm definitely sorry, too," Grandma said. "But come in. We have chocolate-chip cookies."
    She was so normal. Everything was so normal and so unreal.
    I let out a deep breath. Had I really thought it might be Noah? He wouldn't want to come visit Grandma. How did I know that? I just did.
    Our three visitors were filled with Christmas cheer. They smiled at me, asked how I was enjoying my stay, and each presented me with a small gift-wrapped package.
    Grandma admired Maureen's green fingernails with holly berries painted on them. "Very festive," she said.
    I touched Arthur's hand. "This is so nice of you. I haven't seen you for a couple of days." That was when I'd gone up the stairs to the gallery to check if there was someone there because I'd heard a voice—Noah's voice. Where had Noah hidden himself that day?
    I stood, holding the three little packages, trying hard not to let my mind jump again to those awful suspicions. "Shall I open them now?" I asked.
    "Do," Rita urged. "It's more fun for us."
    They beamed with anticipation as I unwrapped.
    There was a pretty chain with garnets spaced around it, from Maureen. "This is so pretty," I told her.
    "The stones aren't real," she said. "But it's quite tasteful. I would have liked to have gotten you something more showy, but Rita said I'd better not."
    That made me smile for real.
    "This is perfect," I said.
    From Rita, I got matching garnet earrings, and from Arthur, a sparkling butterfly clip to hold back my hair.
    "I thought it would be jolly for the holidays," he said shyly, and I lifted two wings of my hair and clipped them back. "Lovely," he said.
    I managed to hug all three of them at once.
    "How am I going to go home and leave you guys?" I asked and added, "Wait, I have something for you."
    I'd brought hologram cards with me from the Field Museum to give as small gifts if I needed them. They showed Sue the dinosaur. When you moved the card, Sue's neck of bones stretched toward you.
    The cards were on top of the dresser. In the drawer below was the diary. I had to look at it again. It couldn't,
couldn't
be as bad as I thought. I slid the drawer open.
    Downstairs I could hear the cheerful voices and Maureen's ready laugh.
    The diary.
    With one finger, I flipped over a page.

    How can I believe what he is saying about himself? That he is immortal? That he has been alive, or dead and alive again, for more than a century? That he is a ghost? But what else can explain all that is mysterious and, yes, frightening about him?

    "No," I whispered. "No." I felt so dizzy I had to hold onto the edge of the dresser. With my elbow, I pushed the drawer closed. "Alive, or dead and alive again." A ghost. It couldn't be. This girl, this Lottie was crazy. It was her craziness that was terrifying me, the nonsense she'd written.
    But although I was telling myself it