Suddenly Psychic (Glimmer Lake #1)(52)

Val blinked. “Wow.”

Monica’s shoulders drooped. “I’m exhausted just listening to that.”

Val grimaced. “Is there anywhere—anything you do or place you go—where you actually feel like your mind is empty? That you feel like you focus on one thing?”

Robin took a deep breath. “My morning walk when I can be outside. And drawing.”

Val snapped her fingers. “Drawing.” She ran to the kitchen and came back in seconds. She tossed Robin’s sketchbook at her. “Draw her. Draw the ghost you saw.”

Monica nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

Robin was skeptical, but she started sketching out the face she saw in her memory. She drew the curve of her cheek first. The line of her back sitting in the rocking chair. The draped skirt.

She heard the rocking chair begin to creak.

Robin kept drawing. She drew the crisply curled hair and the zigzag edging on her dress. By the time she looked up, the woman in the rocking chair was staring straight at her.

“You never bring the children anymore.” Her eyes were sad.

Robin couldn’t tear her eyes away from the woman who was speaking to her. There could be no mistaking it. The ghost saw Robin just like Robin saw the ghost.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “The children grew up.”

Monica and Val both jumped a little where they were standing, but Robin held up a hand.

“My little boy played there.” The ghost nodded to the window seat. “I wanted to hold him so much, so I stayed. But they moved away and there were no children for a long, long time.” The smile on her ghostly face was wistful. “But then you came, and you had your little boy. Then your little girl.”

“Is that why you stayed?” Robin asked. “To see your son?”

“A son needs his mother.” The rocking chair went back and forth. “I couldn’t just abandon him.”

Monica said, “Val, do you see the chair?”

“Yeah, I see it.”

Robin kept her focus on the ghost. “Can you leave? Where would you go?”

“Oh, there’s a place.” The ghost’s eyes took on a faraway gaze. “But what if he comes back and I’m not here?”

Your son is an old man now. Robin didn’t want to say it; she felt the ache of longing from the ghostly woman.

“What’s your name?”

“Clara.” Her smile was soft. “My boy was named Paul, after my father. Henry did that for me. He named my boy Paul.”

“That’s good.” Paul McGillis. Robin wondered if she could find out where he’d gone. “My name is Robin.”

“I know,” Clara said. “We all know.”

“Are there many of you?”

“Oh, a few.” Clara looked at her from the corner of her eye. “You haven’t seen all of us yet.”

“But I’ve seen you.” And she’d gotten a few answers. Clara had stayed because she wanted to. Because she felt needed. Had Billy done the same? Was he stuck here because he felt an obligation? Was he waiting for his son too?

Robin put her pencil down and looked at the sketch she’d drawn. It was one of the best she’d ever done. Clara McGillis was rendered in clear swipes of the pencil; everything from her dress to her curls to her lips was perfect. Exactly as Robin had seen her.

When she looked up from her sketchpad, Clara was gone.

“She left,” Robin said.

“That was so weird,” Val said. “Monica?”

“Super weird.” Monica sat next to Robin. “What did you see?”

Robin passed her the sketch. “What did you see?”

“You were staring at the rocking chair so hard, and then it started creaking. Not much, but it was definitely moving back and forth.”

“Did you hear me?”

“You said one thing about the children growing up,” Monica said. “But then nothing. You were just staring at the chair.”

“But I had a whole conversation with her,” Robin said. “With Clara. You didn’t even hear me?”

“Nope.” Val reached for the sketchbook. “Weird. It sounds like it was all in your head.”

She turned to Monica. “But by the lake when I talked to Billy, you could hear me then?”

“Yes, but maybe it’s a different connection there. Or a different method of calling him? Maybe if they reach out to you, you stay more in yourself. If you call them up, then it’s internal.”

“That makes as much sense as any of this.” Val was staring at the sketch. “So what happens if you sketch Billy?”

“I don’t know, but I’m thinking that might be the way to go.”

“What happens if you sketch Billy when you’re with Grandma Helen?”

Monica’s eyebrows went up. “Playing with fire, Val?”

“Hey.” She shrugged. “If we want to get answers, that might be the only way to go.”

Robin felt her phone buzzing in her pocket, so she stood and brought it out. “It’s Sully.”

Val sat up straight. “Sully?”

Monica made an “answer it” motion with her hands.

Robin tapped on Accept Call. “Hey, Sully.”