Page 47 of Earthly Ties

“Why is he such an arrogant twat?”

I laugh as I figure out how to answer. “When are we? Did we see him recently?” Even with Esther kindly reading my reminder note, there are still mornings when I barely remember who I am, let alone when I am. But being able to ask Esther when we are is making everything much more organized in my head. The nights are still wonky, but during the day, I feel positively chronological.

“No, it’s late April, so it’s been a few months. But Defective Barret just sent me yet another response with no news, and that got me thinking about what a rude ass Angel was.”

April. That’s ten months since I died? I wince. “My therapist said that our mom likely had some sort of personality disorder or mental illness that went untreated. Probably triggered by postpartum issues, because she and Dad look really happy in the pictures before I was born.” I frown. “Not that it absolves her of anything she did or said, but remembering that helps me to rationalize her behavior. And Dad’s, because I don’t understand how he could have loved someone so toxic.”

I pause, remembering all of the explosions of anger that I never could predict. “It got worse after Angel was born, but even before that, she was very insecure about how close I was with my dad when he was still in the picture.” The downside of my near-photographic memory is I have rarely forgotten anything my mother said to me throughout my childhood, even from when I was so young, and could barely understand the words she was saying.

I swallow a surge of anger. “Basically, Angel was the golden child, and I was the scapegoat. He could do no wrong, and I could do no right—that sort of thing. Mom looked down on everyone who wasn’t Angel, especially me, so he probably internalized that. Again, doesn’t absolve him from being an arrogant twat. But I can understand why he turned out this way.”

The bitterness that Angel was not only my mom’s favorite, but also my dad’s, has grown with time. Sure, maybe Dad had a point that Angel needed him more than I did. But if my hypothesis—that our Tie is the last person we care about when we die—is correct, then that means Dad didn’t care about me at all.

I can’t find it in myself to forgive that.

“That was probably hard growing up in that environment,” Esther says softly.

“That’s an understatement.” I snort, dragging my finger at a downward angle across the mirror. “She kicked me out as soon as she legally could get away with it. Though honestly, living in my car until the dorms opened was an improvement over living with her and Angel.”

Esther makes a sound of protest. “Wait, Angel said you abandoned them?”

I scoff. “Revised history, courtesy of Mom’s skewed perspective. He was younger, fourteen when I left. I’m sure Mom wouldn’t have admitted that she kicked me out.”

My heart twinges at the thought. Angel probably did feel abandoned. Not that he was any nicer than Mom, but she encouraged him to treat me so cruelly. He was still a kid. That was all he’d ever known.

“Well, not to compare our trauma, but at least she waited until you graduated. I stayed on friends’ couches my whole senior year of high school,” Esther says softly, barely audible over the sound of the shower. “Not a huge step up from a car, but it was a roof and walls, and sometimes a door that locked.”

“Can I ask why your parents kicked you out?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Esther laughs sardonically. Hearing so much bitterness in her voice is strange. That’s not an emotion I ever want my East to feel, and it hurts to realize how deep she’s buried it. “They’re very religious, and I was very obviously gay from a young age. I tried to keep it a secret, but my little sister told my parents about what I’d written in my diary. They tried to ‘save’ me, but eventually, I told them I was done pretending, and stopped cooperating with conversion therapy.” Her voice softens. “I just couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted to be free, to be me. So they gave up on me. And I was free to be myself. Somewhere else. With no further contact with them.”

My heart aches for her, because she still loves them—even some fifteen years later, Esther’s still trying. With every phone call that never gets answered, they keep rejecting her again and again. She’s been through so much, but until I died, I never knew how much it weighed on her. Esther never let it show. She was always the most cheerful person in the room. “Was it worth it?”

Esther sighs heavily, the water splashing as she rinses her hair. “Every damn second. Yeah, I miss my family. And it fucked me up. It was years before I could trust anyone enough to even try to have a relationship. But I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

“So then why are you still single?” I ask before I can stop myself. “Sorry, I just mean, you’re attractive and successful. I’m surprised you don’t have a girlfriend. You haven’t gone on a single date in the ten months I’ve been haunting you.”

“What, your brother negging me wasn’t a date?” Esther teases.

I bark out a laugh. “No! Absolutely not!”

“Well, all of my relationships have ended pretty much as soon as I start opening up and being vulnerable. Or worse, myself!” Esther snorts as she scrubs her face. “New friendships, too. I’ll admit, I’m a little quirky, but I don’t think I’m that awful. And yet, all of my friends fell off the face of the earth as soon as lockdown started, like they’d been waiting for an excuse. So that really hasn’t helped my trust issues.”

Fighting a surge of anger on her behalf, I press my thumb hard into the mirror, eyes narrowing as I dot an i. “They’re fools, all of them. You’re great.”

“Thanks, Luce. You’re great, too.”

“Seriously though, you should get out more. Go meet more people. Make more friends. Go on dates. Let me live vicariously through you.” Forcing a casual air, I hate myself for saying it.

As much as I’d love to continue pretending that my ghostly self is enough for Esther, she’ll be happier with more people in her life. She’s just as isolated as I was. Only more optimistic. More hopeful. More understanding. But now, after haunting her for ten months, I’ve seen firsthand she is just as lonely and unhappy as I was. Healthier coping mechanisms, but still, I hate that for her.

My East deserves to be adored.

“This is kind of a weird time for dating.” Esther snorts again. “You see, I had this massive unrequited crush on someone. She was so smart, and funny, and gorgeous. I’m obviously still hung up on her. She’s way out of my league though. Even more so now.”

I ignore the jealousy in my heart. “What happened with her?”

Esther chuckles. “She died, and now she’s haunting me.”