Suddenly Psychic (Glimmer Lake #1)(41)

“Yes?” Grace’s footsteps came from the kitchen. “You know, when I look at this room in the middle of the day, I think you could get away with the darker red, but most of your shoppers aren’t in the middle of the day until right before the season—”

“Mom, who built this house?”

Grace looked up from her fabric swatches. “What?”

“This house,” Robin said. “You know most of the town history. Who built this place? It was back in the forties, right?”

“Oh yes, this place was one of the first permanent homes in town. Quite a tragic story actually. I haven’t thought about it in years. The family was called the McGillises. What was his name? Hank? Henry? Something like that?”

Robin stared at the woman. “Was he married?”

The ghost hadn’t moved, and she hadn’t looked away from the children’s play area. She was rocking back and forth, though Grace seemed oblivious to the movement of the chair.

“Yes, he was a bit older, but he married a young woman. She’d been a teacher at the school. She wasn’t from here, but everyone liked her. I can’t think of her name just now. That’s so odd. I remember my mother talking about her. She was very well liked. A wonderful quilter, if I remember correctly.”

“Did they have children?”

Grace smiled. “What made you think of all this?”

Robin scrambled for an answer. “You know, I had a customer ask me the other day about the history of the house, and I realized I had no idea. I just remembered and I thought it’d be good to know. So, did they have children? The McGillis family?”

“Yes.” Grace’s smile was sad. “They didn’t have children for years and years. Who knows why? But then she finally did get pregnant, and she died giving birth to the baby.”

Robin’s heart broke as she studied the ghost watching the corner. “Did the baby live?”

“He did. And the family stayed for a while, but I think the husband and the boy moved away right around the time the little boy started school. The father didn’t have any other family in town. They’d already moved away before the dam was finished. So it was just him, and after his wife died… I wish I could remember her name! You know, I think one of the quilts at the museum was made by her. If you’re curious, you could go and look there.”

“I think I will. I wonder if I could get a picture of them.” She finally looked at her mother. “It would be good to put that up by the door, you know? The McGillis family home, then the Lewis family home. People love that kind of thing.”

“You’re right.” Grace held up the fabric swatches. “Which one do you want? I’ve got to get started on these curtain swags.”

“The cranberry red with snowflakes, Mom. You’ve had your finger stuck next to it for the past hour.”

“Have I?”

Robin cocked her head, looking at her mother, who never asked directly for anything. When she wanted something, she nudged and hinted and pouted until she got her way. She always had, as long as Robin could remember. It worked with her dad. It worked with sellers.

“Why don’t you ever just ask?” Robin sat in the window seat.

Grace frowned. “What?”

“You spotted that fabric an hour ago. You wanted to use it for the swags as soon as you saw it, but you didn’t tell me that. You wanted me to pick it.”

“Well” —Grace looked at the fabric swatches— “it’s your shop and—”

“It’s your shop too. I bought you out, but it’s still your shop. You work here. You started it. I don’t mind you having an opinion, Mom. You have a great eye for design.”

“It’s not my place to tell you what to do.”

“Grandma does the same thing,” Robin said. “Was it your dad?”

Grace’s expression tightened. “My father was very opinionated. He had a certain way of doing things.”

It wasn’t hard to read between the lines. “So if you wanted something, you had to make him think it was his idea, didn’t you?”

Grace waved a hand. “I’ve never thought about it. Why are we talking about this? If you like the cranberry and snowflake, then I’ll order that.”

“We’re talking about this because…”

Because I’ve been walking through my life like one of these ghosts.

I’ve spent forty-five years making myself more invisible.

I’ve been expecting people to read my mind.

Just like you.

Robin stood up and walked to her mom. “I want you to make the curtains with whatever fabric you want, Mom.” She felt her chest get tight. “And I think you should tell Dad you want to go to Hawaii for Christmas.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Grace looked flustered. “I don’t want—”

“You do. You’ve wanted to do that for years. You never did when you ran the shop because it’s impossible in retail, but you start looking at flights in October every year. And Dad doesn’t notice because he loves the snow and he loves the mountains, but he wouldn’t mind, Mom. He wouldn’t. He loves making you happy.”

Wait.

“…you need to pick something and tell Dad. He’s waiting to get you something you want. He just wants you to be happy.”