Page 56 of Some Kind of Haunted

Or Jack.

Harrison nods slowly, brows still drawn tight. I can tell he wants to say something else, so I wait. “We tried our best with her, my Betsy and I. We really did try.”

I don’t quite understand what he’s getting at. Is he afraid I’m not being nice enough to her? What did they try so hard to do?

“She’s great,” I say more firmly, so he understands I’m not just being polite.

“Amelia was a strong personality,” Harrison tells me, almost sorrowfully. “Sometimes too strong, if you know what I mean.”

I decidedly do not know what he means. I did not know my grandmother and I’ve never been too keen on men calling women too strong since that’s never even close to a compliment, but this is Harrison. He’s a good guy. Just a little old-fashioned, I remind myself.

Maybe there’s some way to gently explain to him that’s kind of a dick way to phrase things.

“Oh, she was a wonderful woman. Don’t get me wrong,” he hurries on like he sees the disapproval on my face when I’m trying so hard not to show it. “Nora’s such a sweet thing. She did sometimes absorb what Amelia told her without necessarily developing her own backbone. You know how it is, I’m sure. Amelia had her own opinions and sometimes it felt as though she insisted that anyone in her orbit share them.”

I think of the way Logan often maneuvers everyone in his life to agree with him. To think what he thinks or what he wants them to think. It’s one of his superpowers. Except it doesn’t work with me, of course. And I’ve watched it not work with Nora, right here in Midas, in real time. It’s kind of funny to think that someone with no backbone could manage that when law firms filled with shark-toothed lawyers do Logan’s bidding.

Yet one granny with a knitting shop influenced Nora unduly?

I don’t quite understand what Harrison wants me to take away from this . . . warning? “What kind of opinions did my grandmother have?” I ask.

“Oh, you know. This or that.” Harrison chuckles. “Different families have taken on different theories about the town as the generations have passed on.” He holds my gaze, his own a faded green, in case I wondered where Jack got his. “I won’t tell you what to think, Lexi. I want you to make your own choices. You get to decide. What you believe. What you want. Not one of us knows the true answers. Not yet.”

I’m still a little confused, but this is important. He’s reminding me that I have choice and agency and don’t have to follow the beat of anyone’s drum except mine.

That’s powerful, and I want to be the kind of powerful that believes in my own instincts. In my gifts. I want to thank Harrison for saying that, but my throat is a little tight. So I just nod and get to my feet.

But Harrison pats my arm. “One thing I know, Lexi dear, is that you’re important to this.” He beams at me. “Critical.”

And I really want to cry then, but something crashes over on the doll wall. I shudder, because I do not like the doll wall. I make a point of completely avoiding the doll wall, in fact. I pretend it’s not there.

“Oh, these dolls.” Harrison tsks, moving away from me and toward the dolls. “Minds of their own.”

I take that as my cue to get the hell out of there, so I don’t have to think about dolls and their minds.

I consider walking out through the diner but then think that might be a little too obvious. Might as well take out a billboard to announce I’m just wandering around, trying to get a glimpse of Jack. Not that I think Jack would even notice.

I shake my head and walk out the front door without going through the diner. But I am immediately greeted by a familiar face when I hit the sidewalk.

Cleo doesn’t greet me. She just says, “Knit and Sip. Tonight. Nora’s too shy to ask, so I decided to demand.”

“You don’t have to demand. I’m happy to go.”

“Great. Come on, then.”

I nod. “I need to tell Logan, but my phone doesn’t seem to want to send texts here. I’ll meet you at the store.”

Cleo wrinkles her nose, but she falls into step with me as I walk across the street. “Why are you two joined at the hip?”

“You don’t have siblings.”

“No, but I know people who do. They don’t text each other where they’re going to be constantly. In fact, usually they ignore texts from each other. On purpose.”

“Are they twins?”

“No.”

I raise my eyebrows at her.