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The elderly ghost seemed to realize she’d overstepped. She backed away until she was safely in the doorway. “I only meant to offer an alternative.”
“No shortcuts.” Ray shook his head firmly. “If you’re going to do up this house, you’re going to do it right or not at all. Once you steam it like I told you, I can help you with the scraping. All I need is a putty knife.” He looked over his shoulder at Nana Pratt. “This would be good practice for your fine motor skills, Ingrid.”
“I’m game,” Nana Pratt said. She surveyed the once-grand room. “Can you imagine the lavish parties the original owner must’ve hosted?”
According to local lore, Blue had been partial to hosting parties that featured mediums toting scrying glasses. He’d milked the hell out of living next door to a cemetery, and his guests loved the drama of it. I’d be hosting no such parties. I would’ve preferred that no one discover my connection with ghosts, but the residents of Fairhaven had proven themselves too wily for my own good.
I followed Ray’s instructions regarding the steamer. Apparently, there were actual steamers dedicated to this job, but he said I could use the steamer function of my iron in a pinch. I had no intention of driving downtown to thehardware store. Hewitt’s was likely teeming with people eager to buy all sorts of winterizing equipment and necessities, so the iron would have to do for now.
“You should throw a housewarming party when the renovations are finished,” Nana Pratt said.
“Absolutely,” I said, knowing the renovations could easily take another decade at my current pace.
“You might meet somebody special if you have a party. Lots of people meet their spouses that way,” she continued.
“I don’t need to meet somebody special,” I said. “I am somebody special.”
Ray nodded his approval. “All women should have your confidence.”
Nana Pratt blew a raspberry. “That isn’t confidence. That’s called deflection.”
“Have you been thumbing through that psychology book?” Ray asked.
I craned my neck to look at them. “I have a psychology book?”
“You brought it home from the library last week,” Ray said. “I put it on hold.”
I hadn’t even noticed it in the stack. The librarian had them ready and waiting for me, and I carried them home on autopilot. “Why did you want a psych book?”
“I’m interested in learning about subjects I didn’t get a chance to study when I was alive,” Nana Pratt said. “Women in my generation didn’t really go to college.”
“Neither did I,” I said. I’d barely made it through the multiple high schools I’d attended.
I returned my attention to steaming. It took effort to hold the iron close to the wallpaper without touching it. My shoulder and arm muscles would complain tomorrow. And if I had to hear Ray say, “patience, grasshopper” one more time, he was going to find himself outside with one.
I was relieved when it was time for scraping. The ghosts were happy to step in and try their hands at home improvement. I watched Nana Pratt struggle with the putty knife until I couldn’t take it anymore.
“No, like this.” I mentally seized control of her hand and turned it so that the blade was in the correct position.
Nana Pratt looked down at her ethereal hand. “How did you do that?”
I knew exactly what she meant, but that didn’t stop me from playing dumb. “Do what?”
“You controlled her like she was a Roomba, and you used the remote,” Ray said.
“I was being helpful.”
Nana Pratt peered at me. “How can you control me like that, Lorelei?”
“If I can help ghosts cross over, is it so crazy to think I can help them do other things as well?” I knew it was a bullshit response, but I didn’t know what else to say.
Ray’s voice was gentle and encouraging. “Why not tell us the truth? It isn’t like we can tell anyone. You’re the only one we can talk to.”
“I wouldn’t tell even if I could,” Nana Pratt said. “It’s obviously an important secret to you.”
“It’s best if you don’t know the details.”
“But why?” Nana Pratt pressed.
