and that they probably… what did she say? Oh, yeah—‘those issues inform who she is and how she acts today.’”
“I’m sure she’s right,” I responded. “Not that it makes it any easier to deal with her, but at least I’m not going around wondering why she’s so nasty. I still don’t know why she hates me, particularly, though.”
“There might not be any reason. Once you’ve become that kind of person, the kind who hates, I think it takes on a life of its own.”
We were both quiet for a time, thinking about Nell and the injustices of life.
Abruptly I broke the silence. “Why didn’t you tell me about Nell before? She’s been making me miserable since I moved here.”
Michael raised his eyebrows. “Would knowing Nell’s story have changed the way you dealt with her?”
I thought about it. “No. Maybe. I don’t know. I might not have been so—you know, I might have been more sympathetic…”
“And Nell would have hated that. She would have known you felt sorry for her, and she would have hated you even more than she does now. Besides, as I said, I don’t like gossip, and at that point, it would have been simply that.”
“But now it’s not?”
“Now… well, I’m still not sure, I told you that. But you tell me. Does knowing what I told you about Nell and her past impact what you think Nell is up to with Amber?”
Reluctantly I nodded. “I think it does. Whatever was in Nell’s mind that day has got to be related to witchcraft. It had that feeling. Girls in a group, in the woods… and the chanting. I wanted to think it was just something like… I don’t know, hazing. But it was heavier than that. It was dark.”
Michael lay back on the blanket. “See, that was what I was afraid of. Now that you know her history, you think it’s a given that Nell would get involved in something like her mom did. But we don’t have any proof of that. I’m not saying that Nell isn’t playing Amber. I’m not saying Nell isn’t bad news. But I really think that given what she saw her mom go through, plying the family trade is the last thing Nell would do.”
I looked at Michael in surprise. “Are you mad at me because I don’t agree with you about this?” He didn’t feel mad, as far as I could tell, just maybe a little frustrated.
He rubbed his hand across his eyes, wearily. “No, I’m not mad at you. I’m—concerned. More about you than about Nell. I don’t buy any of this mystical occult stuff, I’ve told you that. But anyone who messes with it, who goes against the carnie families, seems to come out the loser. I don’t know why. I don’t want you to get involved and get hurt.”
“I promise not to do anything yet, or say anything. I’ll keep an open mind. I want to think about it. But, Michael, I want you to keep an open mind too. If Nell looked at her mom the way you described, if she idolized her—well, it wouldn’t surprise me at all if she wanted to follow in her footsteps.”
Michael sat up, reached over and tucked my hair behind my ear. “Okay. I’ll try. Now—” he stood and offered me his hand to help me up, “—Mom put something in the slow cooker for dinner. She was hoping maybe you’d whip up one of your famous salads to go with it. Are you game?”
I smiled, happy to be needed. “Sure. Want to be my sous chef?”
He pulled me into his arms and kissed me soundly. “Best offer I’ve had all day.”
I worked contentedly in Marly’s kitchen, mixing several varieties of lettuce from her garden and sending Michael for other ingredients. I like an interesting salad, with as many different tastes and textures as possible. While I waited for Michael to bring me some tomatoes, I put together balsamic vinaigrette dressing, leaning out onto the back deck to pull leaves from Luke’s potted herb garden.
As I puttered and mixed, I let my mind wander over our conversation that afternoon. I thought of Michael talking with his mother about Nell and about me. He had never asked me if he could tell his parents that I could hear minds, and I knew he wouldn’t without my express permission. As unhappy as my parents would be, I was tempted to share my secret with Luke and Marly. Although I wasn’t sure I