Page 50 of Earthly Ties

While I’d rather not risk running into Syd, it’s been a while since I’ve seen Harriet. We saw each other twice a week last semester. With Esther working remotely for most of this semester, I’ve barely seen her. Our only time together is because Syd is one of Esther’s “mentees.” At most, I see her a few moments every week, when Esther and Syd touch base about assignments (grading intro course essays, mostly) and their career development (conversations Esther was the most anxious about, but has been surprised to find she’s good at. It was not a surprise to me).

“Lucy! How have things been? Is your Tie doing okay?” Harriet greets me with a smile. “Syd had the longest recovery when they had the Pox a couple years ago, and yours had a much worse case than they did! From what I overhear from Syd, she never takes a day off. She should rest more!”

“Yeah, try telling her that,” I mutter. “She’s doing good. Still a little weak and tired, but overall, fine.” I lower my voice a little, so Esther doesn’t have a distraction from her conversation with Syd. I don’t know if she’d want me telling Harriet that I’m still fussing over her, too. Esther says she’s fine, but she is far from fully recovered. Time is still strange from her frequent naps and poor sleep at night. “How are you? Talk to any other spirits lately?”

Harriet shakes her head. “Just a faint one Tied to the bartender at the place Syd likes to go to lately. Poor thing can’t even hear me anymore. You?”

“Esther met my brother a few months ago, before she caught the Pox.” I chew on my words, wondering how much I should say, when I haven’t even told Esther this yet. But I asked Harriet first. Why would I have asked her that, if I didn’t want to talk about this?

Being Tied to Esther has gotten me blurting out all of my thoughts, but it’s still hard to admit facts that veer too close to feelings territory, especially out loud, especially to Harriet. But I should. This is how I ended up so isolated in life, not trusting anyone with the things that made me feel weak, insecure, and vulnerable. Unlike Esther, who just spits out her feelings, her truth, and her insecurities, like watermelon seeds on the grass where anyone might step on them.

I admire that about her.

“My dad left when I was six, and my mom went missing a few years ago, too. I never had a good relationship with her, but I saw them…” My words choke me, but I hope Harriet will understand what I mean anyway. “Both of my parents are Tied to my brother.”

Harriet evaluates me, her head cocked and her dark eyes soft and glowing. “Well, fuck your parents, Lucy.”

“Fuck my parents, indeed.” I laugh. Half in amusement to hear Harriet say that, and half in relief that she blames my parents for their apathy toward me. I sometimes wonder what was wrong with me that neither of my parents gave a damn about me when I was young. “Sorry, that probably wasn’t what you expected to hear.” I shake my head, throat raw and chest aching from her quiet validation. “My brother is almost twenty-eight and has both of our parents fighting to be heard by his subconscious, when he’s a grown-ass man. And when I say fighting, I mean, fighting. They were screaming at each other. They didn’t even notice I was there until I said something.”

“Well, you are so…” Harriet shakes her head. “I know I say you’re bright all the time, but every time I see you, you’re glowing more and more. If I hadn’t been here for so long, I’d wonder if I was fading without knowing it.” She frowns. “Your dad, he’s been a spirit even longer than I have, hasn’t he?”

“Twenty-six years, give or take.” I nod.

“Interesting.” Harriet nods, looking over at Syd, who is asking Esther about the best approach for giving feedback on an essay they’re stuck on. “Very interesting.” Harriet smiles, but it’s heavy with some emotion I can’t quite identify. Hesitation? Pity? “Well, they’re missing out for not appreciating you while they had the-” She pats my arm. “Oh, damn!” She jerks her hand away.

“What? What’s wrong?” I blurt out.

Esther’s head raises, and she glances to the back of the room with wide eyes. Syd looks back over their shoulder in confusion to see what’s caught her attention.

“You’re so warm!” Harriet rubs her fingertips together, brow furrowed. She rests her hand on my arm again. I can’t feel a thing, but Harriet looks at me in amazement. “You almost burn to the touch.”

“Is that weird?” I lower my voice, as Esther returns to the conversation with Syd. “Ghosts can’t get fevers, can we? Did I somehow get the Pox from Esther?”

“For someone so bright…” Harriet gives me a teasing look, like I should already know the answer to that. “Why are you whispering?”

I beam. “Oh, well, in good news—”

“Oh shoot, I’m late! Gotta run!” In a flash of pain, Syd steps through me, arms full of more essays to grade. “See you Esther!”

“I’ll tell you next time!” I wave as Harriet is pulled through the door after her kid. It feels like a lie by omission. However, I’ve let one sharp painful truth out. Trusted a friend with a vulnerable wound that I’ve been nursing privately. And I survived, heart intact with Harriet’s validation that I’m right to be upset.

Maybe I could survive sharing this jagged fact with Esther, too.

Twenty-Four

“Hi, Dad. Just calling to wish you a happy birthday. I hope you and Mom are doing well. I bet you’re probably going out to dinner—surf and turf, like you get every year.” Esther lets out a wet chuckle, drowned out by the rain pattering against her window.

The hesitant sorrow in her voice forms a lump in my throat. Rainy spring days always make me melancholy; listening to Esther try and try and try to connect with her family, while the afternoon sky is bleak and dreary is positively heartbreaking. “Anyway, I know you probably wouldn’t want to hear from me, but I wanted to tell you that I love you, and I hope your birthday is great. I’m doing okay, too. I’d love it if you would call me back.”

Esther hangs up, leaning against the headboard with a sigh. “Don’t judge me, please. I know. I just…their voicemail is still the same one I recorded with my siblings, and I want that to mean something.”

I want to smooth the lines creasing her forehead. Run my thumbs over her eyebrows and cheeks, until the weariness and despondence clouding her blue eyes clears. “I would never judge you. Especially for that.” I keep my voice gentle, hoping the tone carries through the demonic growl Esther insists isn’t that bad. “They don’t deserve your big heart, but there’s no shame in wanting a relationship with them.”

“Why do I bother? I call for every holiday, anniversary, and birthday, and I get nothing in return.” Esther rubs her eyes as her usual lilting upspeak vanishes in her frustration. “Would they even notice if I give up? Do they think I’m pathetic for not getting the hint? I feel so weak for just wanting them to answer the phone.”

“You’re not weak. It takes incredible strength to keep trying, especially for as many years as you have been.” I ground myself to pull her hands away from her face, ignoring the burst of fire that shoots up to my elbows when my fingers wrap around her wrists. “They’re the weak ones. They’re stubborn for no reason, refusing to question their path. As someone who did the same thing when I was alive, I promise you that they’re the ones who are missing out.”

“Thanks, Luce.” With a sniffle, Esther grips my hands. “I hate to ask, but could we, like, cuddle? I don’t know if we could. Or if it would be too painful for you. But I would like to try. I feel very…alone right now. And it’d be nice to feel…not alone.”