Good Grief
Epilogue
“Ihave a question before we begin.” Lucy sits next to Esther, who unzips the bag at her feet. The leather love seat creaks under them as Lucy edges close enough for Esther to feel the warmth of her thigh. “Well, two questions.”
With a fond smile over her shoulder at her wife, Esther unpacks the microphone, plugging it into the sound amplifier. How might Lucy give the speech this time? After so many attempts, will this be the time their unbelievable pitch finally finds an audience?
The two therapists they’re seeing today exchange a look and a nod. “Go ahead,” says the woman. Michelle, she said to call her.
“I just want to reconfirm you’re okay with us recording, in addition to the sound amplifier,” Lucy rests an elegant hand on the microphone in the center of the table.
“We’ll keep it confidential, of course, but it does help the process when we can go back and transcribe everything, and we might pick up on other sounds we can’t easily hear. ”
“If you think it’s necessary,” Gordon nods. “And if it’s more comfortable for you, that’s fine.”
“Excellent. We appreciate the cooperation.” Lucy smiles.
Polite, professional, reserved, but still breathtaking, as far as Esther is concerned.
All of Lucy’s expressions make her heart race, even after two years together.
Every one she has the privilege, the honor to witness echoes with the memory of how each of Lucy’s smiles, each giggle, each teasing smirk curled in her heart.
“Now for my second question: do you believe in ghosts?”
Michelle and Gordon exchange a look. The two therapists, a Black woman and a white man, had been Angel’s idea.
Both had experience with clients of all faith backgrounds.
Both someone each of the Monaes could relate to, to some degree, without feeling like they wouldn’t be understood.
Considering this was their eighth attempt at family therapy, Esther was willing to do whatever they needed to finally have a real conversation with either of the spectral Monaes.
Because this would take time. It was one thing to hear them; it was another to communicate.
“I believe that no matter what the truth is, we carry our loved ones with us after they pass, that they live on in our hearts,” Michelle says carefully.
Esther presses her lips together to fight her laughter. If only Michelle knew.
Gordon simply nods in agreement. “Our own beliefs don’t really matter in this. It’s what you believe that drives the conversation.”
Behind them, Angel lets out a derisive snort. He’s looking out the window, hands behind his back as Lucy and Esther set everything up. The midday sun behind the blinds casts him in streaks of light. “That’s what they all say. Then I get a call from a priest for a consultation for an exorcism.”
“You’re so dramatic.” Behind her cat-eye glasses, Lucy’s eyes roll ever so slightly. “That only happened twice.”
“Easy for you to say, I almost ended up committed when I told my old therapist about this,” Angel snarks.
“Oh yes, we know how that word scares you,” Lucy retorts.
“To the psych ward, Lucifer, not a relationship.” Esther can practically hear her brother-in-law rolling his eyes, just like Lucy had a second ago.
“Though God forbid a guy date around in his twenties, instead of marrying their coworker a month after coming back from the dead.” He clears his throat. “No offense, Esther.”
“None taken.” Esther bites her lower lip to keep from laughing as Michelle and Gordon mouth “back from the dead?” at each other. “But maybe we should save this for the session?”
Lucy and Angel’s childhood animosity may have mellowed into more comfortable sibling banter, but neither of them ever passes up the chance to argue. Esther would never say it runs in the family (out loud), but the Monae siblings seem to thrive on bickering almost as much as their parents do.
As long as neither of them are bickering with her, Esther is content to let them have it out.
It’s probably the most honest communication either of them has had in decades.
Turning to the bewildered Michelle and Gordon, Esther clears her throat.
“More often than not, we have one session and get dropped because people assume we’re pranking them.
But we need help. Both as researchers and with some pretty extensive family issues. ”
Lucy hands out lapel mics for everyone. “These will help us layer out the um…background noise when we transcribe this later.”
“Background noise?” Michelle asks, clipping the mic to her blouse.
“From Angel’s Ties,” Lucy explains. “Our parents. They’re not ghosts, per se, but that’s how most people perceive the phenomenon. I did. I believe Mom does. From my conversations with Dad when I was Tied to Esther, he seems to understand that he’s an interdimensional anomaly.”
“Interdimensional anomaly,” Gordon repeats, glancing at Angel. Probably because he comes across as the most reasonable one in this conversation so far.
Esther fights another laugh. Little does he know.
Angel finally sits in the club chair next to the love seat.
Every moment is sluggish, and Esther can’t help but wince at the sunken look in his eyes when he finally looks up.
“Look, just let them hear it, then we can find out if we need to get on yet another waitlist or not. No need to ease them into it if they’re not gonna handle it anyway. ”
“Is she already…” Esther trails off, gesturing around him.
Angel nods, rubbing his chest. “Has been since someone basically called me a fuckboy.”
He raises a pointed eyebrow at Lucy, who shrugs. “Look, if the shoe fits…”
“‘Nobody is good enough for my Angel!’” he mimics his mother’s monologue.
“She’s been calling you both sinners and harlots, for the record, so prepare yourself for that.
” He sighs, swallowing as he leans back in his chair.
His forehead is shiny. “I miss when I couldn’t tell what she was saying.
” He snorts. “Hell, I miss when I didn’t know they were haunting me.
I can’t sleep, I can’t work out, I can’t even jack off anymore. It’s all too fucking weird.”
“If this works though,” Lucy passes him a barf bag; they’d learned the hard way to bring those to therapy sessions. “You’ll have your life back, your mom back. You might even meet Dad, if we can ever hear him over her.”
“I just want my sanity back,” Angel says. “It’s why I’m here, isn’t it? Leaning on you, oh trustworthy big sister, to not abandon me in my time of need. For once!”
“That’s not fair.” Lucy stiffens beside Esther. “I didn’t abandon—”
“How about we let Michelle and Gordon hear a bit?” Esther interrupts, feeling awful about cutting off that long overdue conversation, sharp and painful as it might be.
Lucy and Angel both insist that the priority is finding therapists who can work on freeing their parents from Angel’s consciousness, not their own relationship.
While Esther’s experience of being Tied to Lucy had been largely pleasant, not everyone was so fortunate to be tied to the love of their lives.
“And then we can start unpacking everything together?”
Angel waves a hand, his usual facade of nonchalance.
Esther looks at Lucy. Her jaw is tight, but she nods and clears her throat, hitting record on the laptop. “Monae family session seventeen. Dr. Monae, Dr. Voigt here with Subject A and therapists eight and nine. Attempting an initial consult. Turning on the sound amplifier now.” Lucy nods to Esther.
Preemptively wincing, Esther hits the power button on the amplifier.
The machine squeals with feedback. As it settles, a deep voice is already shouting.
Esther fiddles with the volume, trying to find the right balance to best hear her mother-in-law.
She can’t really make out the specifics yet, but that may be for the best.
“Mrs. Monae? Can you hear me?” Esther asks when she can finally make out some clear words.
The shouting stops, just long enough for Esther to plow ahead.
“For your awareness, we can hear you, and you are being recorded. Can we ask you some questions? We have two family therapists here to guide the conversation. If you consent to this, please say ‘yes, I consent to this session being recorded.’”
By the time she’s finished her question, Lucy’s mom is already shouting. “No! I’m not an experiment! I’m his mother! Stop trying to get rid of me!” and the rant begins again.
Esther winces apologetically at Michelle and Gordon, who have the same horrified look on their face. “Mr. Monae? Same question. Mrs. Monae, if you could please refrain for a moment so he has a chance to respond.”
Mrs. Monae’s shouting continues.
“We are unfortunately unable to confirm if Mr. Monae has consented or not,” Esther recites, used to this part by now.
“We will turn the amplifier off and continue the recorded session. If you choose to participate while we cannot hear you, your input will be transcribed for Lucy and Angel to better understand your family dynamics as individuals, but the data will not be used in the study. You may choose to remain silent during the session if you prefer not to be recorded.”
With that, Esther flips the power button of the sound amplifier off. “Well. Always a joy to hear from the in-laws, right?” She pats Lucy’s knee, squeezing it reassuringly when her wife’s leg tenses from the unexpected touch.
Lucy offers her a weak smile, then glances at her brother.
Chest heaving, Angel has his head between his knees. The barf bag is crumpled in his fist, thankfully empty. This time.
“Are you okay?” Lucy asks gently.
“Like you care,” he snaps.
“Of course we care, Angel,” Lucy says.