Page 55 of Earthly Ties

Twenty-Five

“Lucy, look at you!” Harriet’s voice surprises me from out of nowhere; the sun is so bright on the quad that I’m not entirely sure where she is in the gathering group of students and faculty. Syd must be nearby, but I don’t see them either from my spot on the edge of the crowd. “You’re so bright, you’re practically solid! You look half alive!”

Today is the Philosophy Department’s ice cream social they allegedly hold every year; They didn’t host one last year, due to Pox restrictions. Well, they did, but it was over video call, and I had to supply my own ice cream. I joined, but I didn’t come off mute. Other than to share that I was eating strawberry oat milk ice cream during the “ice-cream breaker,” as Esther called it, which was more charming than it should have been. Instead, I just listened to Gilda and Allan bicker like an old married couple. I was pleasantly surprised then, and I’m pleasantly surprised now, that Gilda sees value in socializing events at all.

“Thanks, I think? Is calling a ghost half-alive a compliment?” I turn, squinting against the sun to find her. There’s no holding back the gasp that escapes me when I do.

Harriet’s outline is so faint, I can barely see her. A million excuses for her appearance come so quickly, but I know I’m lying to myself. “Did your veil fall? Can I help put it back up?” I reach for her—to help, to cling to the only person who knows I exist besides Esther. Maybe it’s harder to see ghosts in the sunlight; today is a particularly sunny spring day. It makes total sense that the oak tree behind her isn’t the slightest bit washed out.

Harriet floats backward from my hands, her wisp of veil turning back and forth as she shakes her head. “No, that’s quite all right. I’ve decided it’s time for me to try to move on.”

“What? Why?” I blurt out, chest aching. Harriet was my hope that I could stay with Esther forever. “Is everything okay? Did something happen? It’s not what I said about my parents, is it? Because your situation with Syd is not like Angel’s at all!”

“It’s all right, Lucy, just a personal choice that’s been a long time coming. What you said about your parents was just one wake-up call in a whole heap of signs that it’s time.” Harriet chuckles, and the warmth in her laugh softens the grief that I’ll soon lose her. “At first, I felt like a guardian angel. I had a purpose in sticking around. While I might have stayed a little longer than most of us do, I don’t regret it.” She lets out a heavy sigh. “But my baby’s grown up now. They have friends who celebrate their birthday with them. They made the dean’s list. They call their dad every Sunday. Sticking around now feels more like helicopter parenting. Like I’m staying for my sake, not theirs. Syd’s got it figured out. They don’t need me anymore.”

“How do you feel about that?” I ask carefully. Harriet has held on to herself for over two decades; it can’t have been an easy decision.

Harriet huffs a quiet laugh. “How am I supposed to feel about it? My baby, the only person I care about in the whole wide world, doesn’t need me anymore? I want to hate it. But I don’t.” Her shroud ripples, as if she’s shrugging underneath it. “Part of being a parent, I suppose. If they need you for the rest of their lives, you’re not raising them right. And it’s not like Syd ever knew I was here for them. They’ve never known me.”

“You’re a good mom,” my voice cracks. “Knowing when to let go.”

Harriet laughs quietly to herself, full of fondness. “I won’t lie, Syd finally dumping their loser boyfriend from high school and getting with that dance major they’ve been seeing helped. They’re on the right path. And if I can move on, I will no longer have to witness the child I birthed while they’re, you know…” She shudders audibly, the wisp of her veil shimmering as she shakes. “Good for Syd though. Between you and I, their dad really had no idea what he was doing. Hell, I might have lived a little longer, if he’d ever put in half the effort of Syd’s girl!”

“The tragedy of straight women everywhere,” I tease, and we laugh together.

I’m going to miss having normal conversations with someone who isn’t Esther. To laugh with a friend, instead of my Tie. Not that I could ever grow weary of Esther, but this is different, and I’ll miss Harriet so much. The realization dims my laughter, but the ache is bittersweet; is this the last time I’ll see her? Will she be happier finally letting go after all these years?

Near me, Esther quirks a questioning look in my direction that clearly says, “What the fuck are you laughing about?”

“Don’t mind me, East. I’m just talking to Syd’s mom about their sex life.” My smile stays more easily than I expect, still just as genuine despite my reluctance to let Harriet go.

Eyebrows rising, Esther shakes her head and checks her phone, before turning back to her conversation—or rather, politely listening to Allan ramble on about the different calls northern cardinals make.

“She can hear you?” Harriet breathes out.

“Oh, yeah. I meant to tell you, but on the rare occasion we see each other in person, Syd’s always in a rush. For a few months now.” I allow myself a fond look at Esther in her maroon cardigan with nerdy-ass elbow patches, before turning back to Harriet. “Actually, Syd helped us figure it out. They heard me over a video call one day. Esther and I did some experiments, and it turns out the living can hear us through microphones. Or at least Syd and Esther can—perhaps being Tied to you made Syd more apt to hear me. Esther got a sound amplifier so we could talk, and eventually, she learned to hear me without it. She can see and feel me sometimes, too.”

“Twenty-two years of being dead, I’m still learning new possibilities.” Harriet whistles low.

“Does that…” I stumble over my question, already knowing the answer. But selfishly, I ask it anyway. “Does that change things, for you? With your decision to move on? Knowing Syd could learn to hear you?”

As I expect, Harriet shakes her head slowly, and changes the subject. “So you must be the professor who is ‘on sabbatical?’ Syd thought it was funny that you were on sabbatical in Dr. Voigt’s apartment.”

“That’s me!” I roll my eyes, my attempt at a laugh coming out more bitter than I’d like. “Or rather, that’s Dr. Frederick’s attempt at damage control. She doesn’t want to admit I’m not coming back, so I’m on an indefinite sabbatical. I had the audacity to make her look bad by dying.”

“How dare you!” Harriet laughs, but her outline starts floating away. “Oh, Syd must be leaving. Have a good death if I don’t see you again, Lucy. I hope you know how special you are, my friend!”

“Thank you for everything!” I don’t want my time with Harriet to be over, but I still smile and wave as we’re forced to part. That’s the way life goes, and I’ll cherish every moment I’ve had with her. “Good luck with moving on!” My throat catches, but I force myself to call after her, “I’ll miss you!” It’s important that she knows that.

I missed my chance to tell Cash that.

Next time, if there is a next time when I have an opportunity to make a friend, no regrets. Not like I had with Cash. Any moments when I might engage with someone new will be fleeting; I can’t let myself miss out on connection again.

With a parting wave, I’m suddenly alone again. Well, I’m the only ghost, anyway. And if Harriet gets her way and moves on, I might be the only ghost I see for a long time. I wouldn’t have known half of what I’ve figured out without her over the past…ten and a half months? I might have moved on without her support, and then I would never have been heard, seen, known by Esther.

Even if this is the last time I see Harriet, talk to anyone else in our lonely dimension, at least Esther is here.

Esther is always here. Just how I’m always with her.