Page 31 of Earthly Ties

“This bitch isn’t good enough for you! She’s just like your sister! Arrogant! Conceited! She’ll just hurt you and use you. Just like your deadbeat father did to me!”

For a second, I feel bad for Angel again. Sure, he was always closer to Mom and—by all appearances—took her disappearance hard. But this is what he’s had haunting him in the years since Mom disappeared? No wonder he’s so conceited and misogynistic, if this is what’s permeating his subconscious every time he tries to get laid. Either time or death, or both, have turned Mom into the worst version of herself. Preachy and dramatic is an understatement now.

But then he opens his damn mouth and scoffs. “Please. Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t bother with any female below a nine, let alone a chubby six.”

I rise from the chair, ready to defend my Tie, even if it means confronting Mom. Esther is absolutely a ten! But I freeze, my courage failing, as another shroud flickers faintly into view over Angel’s other shoulder.

“Trust, dude, we’re not each other’s target market,” Esther laughs as she leans back in her chair, taking a deep swig of her seltzer, oblivious to my growing panic beside her. “I just came to talk about Lucy and give you the pictures. Believe it or not, some women aren’t interested in you.”

I can’t take my eyes away from the second veil, the brightness solidifying next to Mom.

“Don’t listen to her, Angel. You know your mom is wrong. This is a friend of your sister’s. Treat her with respect!”

I can barely make out the outline of the veil, but I remember that voice, faint as it is. That voice used to read me stories in bed, sing with me on the porch, and tell me he loved me. That voice is one I haven’t heard since I was six.

“Shut up! You don’t deserve to talk to him!” Mom turns to the veil next to hers. “You abandoned him!”

“You kept him from me!”

“Dad?”

Both ghosts turn to me.

“You?” Mom’s disbelief is tinged with hatred. “Why are you here?”

“Lucy? Is that really you?” Dad’s face isn’t visible through his translucent veil, but the disbelief in his voice is laced with confusion. “You’re here? On this plane?”

“You’re Tied to him? To Angel?” My voice trembles. The realization hurts more than anything Mom ever did to me.

“No, it’s not like that.” Dad’s veil flickers in and out as he shakes his head. “I always thought you’d be okay! Why are you here? How?”

“You don’t deserve to be with him!” Mom snaps. “You deserve Hell!”

Anger surges through me. “You left me with her, and you thought I’d be okay? Yeah, I’m so okay that I drank myself to death. Like father, like daughter! Blacked out so hard, I don’t even know how I fucking died!” My voice cracks. “And no one fucking cares that I’m dead. Not even Angel! And why would he? Why would anyone? Apparently, not even my own father cared about me!”

“You always were so independent. Like you didn’t need anyone. You didn’t need me.” Dad lets out a sharp noise that better fucking not be a sob!

I squeeze my eyes shut to relieve the pressure building behind them. Dad left us! Left me. He doesn’t deserve the catharsis of tears. He’s earned his guilt. “I was six! Of course, I needed you!”

Mom wails, desperate to be the victim as always. “Angel is all alone now! You should have been there for him after I died! It’s your fault he’s in so much pain.”

Salt stings my lips as hot tears roll down my cheeks. “I missed you every damn day. And you cared about Angel, not me?”

“Self-centered as always, Little Miss Lucifer.” Mom’s voice turns nasty, cruel, and my heart aches before I manage to tune her out, just as easily—just as painfully—as I always have. “Angel is worth a thousand of you!”

“Please, stop,” I whisper, knowing it’s pointless. Mom never stops. Not once she gets going. My heart long ago hardened under Mom’s disdain, even while I carved out the pieces that loved her and craved her love in return.

But Dad? What had Dad ever done to hurt me besides leave? I always told myself that if I were him, I’d leave Mom, too.

I never wanted to know this, that Dad chose Angel, too. I wish I could go back in time, go on pretending that escaping Mom was worth the pain of losing his kids. Tell myself that he was Tied to me when he died, and had just moved on. I wish I could still believe the lies I told myself.

But no, he didn’t just leave Mom. He left me. He cared about Angel enough to be Tied to him. To stay Tied to my fucking brother for twenty-five fucking years.

Curling around myself, I retreat behind Esther, as if she’ll protect me. But no, there’s nothing she can do, besides glare at Angel as he digs his own grave deeper and deeper. No matter how far from them I go, there’s no escaping the sight of our parents on either side of him. There’s no escaping the verbal abuse dredging up every awful memory I thought I’d repressed. There’s no escaping the facts.

Dad just left me.

“He was a baby, Luce,” Dad tries to explain, when Mom finally loses enough steam to start blubbering instead of hollering. “I didn’t pick him over you—she was keeping you both away from me. This was the only way I could see my son.”