“Your butt in those things made me want to write poetry. And you know I am the worst poet alive.”
“You can’t even rhyme when you sing along with the radio,” I said.
“There goes my man, all dressed in leather, catching my eye in all sorts of ways.”
“Weather. Weather rhymes with leather, Lu.”
“If he were a statue, he’d be made of fine glass, and every woman who passed him would stare at his t-assels.”
I laughed. “All right. No more poetry. You stink at it.”
She wandered through the door and down the hall, a slightly dreamy look in her eyes.
“Stop thinking about my ass,” I mumbled.
“I’m not. I’m thinking about your ass.”
I chuckled.
Lu paused at the doorway to the room. Dot stood inside, all the way over by the window, staring at the chair in the corner. Stella, unsure of what to do with herself, was standing in front of the chair, clutching her knitting in one hand.
They both looked a little wide-eyed and nervous.
“Is she here?” Dot asked. “Right now?” She wrung her hands, squeezing each finger of her left in her right, rings flashing in the low light.
Lu walked over to the bed and sat near the head, tucking her feet up under her. She glanced over at the chair, then back at Dot. “She’s here.”
“And, how does she look?” Dot’s pale skin went rosy. “I mean, obviously she’s… um…not alive, but is she, is she okay?”
“Are you okay, Stella?” Lu asked.
Stella glanced at me.
“I’ll make sure she hears it,” I said.
“Tell her I’m peachy.” Stella smiled. “Just like that.”
I leaned against the doorway. “She said she’s peachy.” I put focus and power into it, and Lu nodded.
“Peachy,” Lu said.
Dot’s mouth dropped open, then she pressed her fingertips over her lips and nodded and nodded.
“Good,” she finally said around her fingers, emotion thick in her voice. “Oh, that’s so good. Tell her I miss her. Terribly. Every day. Tell her my daughter has her name as a middle name and she hates it.” Dot huffed out a laugh, and Stella did the same.
“I never liked it either,” Stella admitted.
“This is the hard part,” Lu said, pressing her shoulders against the headboard of the bed. “I’m going to let her step into me for about a minute. I know that’s short, very short, but any longer will be hard on me and on her.”
“It won’t be hard on me,” Stella said.
“It will,” I corrected. “Lu isn’t exactly human any more. She’s…Well, death and her aren’t on good terms, but they’re familiar. Stepping into her physical space and mind can be hard on someone like you.”
Stella frowned. “Like me? A sister?”
“A ghost,” I said.
“What do I need to do?” Dot asked.
