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“You can do this Annabel,” she whispers reassuringly to herself in the attic mirror. “Deep breath in. Deep breath out.”
She hasn’t been acting like herself lately and she knows it. She expected being a ghost to come with a learning curve, but she didn’t think it’d be so hard relating to her friends. She really does pride herself on being nice and kind, but it’s never taken effort before. It’s always been just who she is. Not lately. Lately she’s been, according to Lenore, a bit snippy.
Staring into the mirror she admits to herself she does feel a bit snippy. Understandably so, isn’t it? Her return only deepened Poe’s mopey disposition. She thought he’d be happy to have her back, but he had yet to keep his eyes dry when looking at her, which was really quite rare to begin with. And worst yet, Lenore doesn't seem to have time for her BFF anymore. And when she does, she only wants to do things as a trio. “The three musketeers,” Lenore keeps saying. Annabel doesn't know what musketeers are, but she knows she misses her quality girltime with Lenore. Now, on the rare occasion she gets Lenore alone, all she talks about is “HG said this,” and “HG invented that.”
Annabel thought she was hiding her growing frustration with the interloper, but apparently she wasn’t. Lenore’s recent heart-to-heart with her led her to agree to wipe the slate clean and give him another chance. Which leaves her here. In front of a mirror. Taking deep breaths that are purely symbolic in nature, and preparing herself to meet up with Lenore and HG at some posh new coffee establishment in town. It’ll probably be fine. And definitely not terrible.
____________
The coffee shop is more crowded than Annabel was accustomed to these days. Luckily Lenore had reserved a table. Annabel orders, and looks around wondering how late her friend and HG will be. When her drink comes, Annabel summons all her concentration to sit in her chair and hold her coffee. She hadn’t actually combined two tasks yet. And in public no less! She is still smiling over her success when HG arrives and joins her.
“Oh dear,” Annabel mumbles, losing her smile immediately.
“Excuse me Annabel, but I just think you could be a little less obvious in your disappointment,” HG says matter of factly. He speaks more confidently than Annabel remembered. How long had she been avoiding him? He leans closer and adds, “I’m not surprised though. Everyone thinks your nice, but your really not. Not anymore anyways.”
“Yes I am.” Annabel counters. “Just not to you. Not to friend stealers.”
Annabel’s gasp of surprise at the words leaving her mouth rivals HG’s. Their awkward silence is interrupted by the waitress’s presence. She places HG’s tea in front of him and a folded yellow card right in between the two feuding ghosts.
HG picks up the note and reads it outloud:
Hey! Lenore here. You two could be real BFFs if you try. Well here’s your chance! I’m hiding, and will keep hiding for all of eternity until you two work together to find me. Buckle up kids. This is only the beginning of Annabel and HG’s Awesome Amazing Friends Adventure That Starts With Coffee and Ends in Neverending BFFness Day. Or Annabel and HG Become Besties Day, for short.
Annabel had noticed and picked up the two pieces of paper that fell from the folded note. She examines them and passes them to HG.
“Tickets,” he observes.
“We’re going to a play,” Annabel tries to hide her smile. She does love a good play, and it’s been a very long time since she’s been.
____________
They walk out of the play feeling refreshed. It’s nice to be out of the house, and it was a comedy. Or she thinks it was a comedy. The audience laughed a lot, but everyone died at the end. Maybe Annabel didn’t understand comedy. She is pulled back into the moment by HG handing her, her coat. She doesn’t want to admit such a simple event would change her feelings about HG, but he is quite polite, and she did really enjoy the play.
“I had fun,” Annabel admits with a grin.
“Really? I guess I’m not the fun-ruiner you seem to think I am.” His tone leaves her unsure how much he was joking and how much he was sharing his hurt.
“I’m sorry,” she says quietly. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you. It’s not you, I guess. Being a ghost has been really hard, and I just thought I’d have more support. That’s all.”
“You do have support, Annabel. You are just choosing to not accept it.” He says softly. “Lenore and I invite you out all the time. It’s really helping me a lot to get out of the house and ‘live’ a little. But you decline everytime and just haunt that house, literally. You’re as bad as Poe these days.”
“I am not!” She counters.
“You are too! And it hasn’t been easy on Lenore. She’s been so focused on you and how you feel. All she ever talks about is ‘how can we help Annabel this’ and ‘poor Annabel that.’” He throws back at her.
Annabel hears her own inner monologue reflected back at her and empathizes with HG for the first time. He’s transitioning too. And poor Lenore. She really was trying her best to help both of them.
“I didn’t realize how hard this was on you, and Lenore as well. Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry you’ve had such a rough time.” Annabel replies softly.
HG deflates. “Thank you. That’s a kind sentiment.”
“It’s no problem. Really, it comes quite naturally.”
As they walk outside a gust of wind hits them and brings with it a yellow ball of paper tumbling through the wind. Annabel catches it:
Hope you cool kids have felt the full bonding effect of having a good time adjacent to one another. I let you off easy at first. You didn’t even have to talk to each other. The next card won’t find you until you have sufficiently interacted as friends. Head over to the bookstore around the corner. Apparently books are a real conversation starter. I don’t have to get all the trends, I suppose.
Love,
Lenore
“I do like books.” Says Annabel. “But I’m a little poemed out right now,” She adds quickly.
“I write books,” HG responds.
“I know,” she says through giggles as she starts for the bookstore.
____________
“What are we supposed to do here. Interact as friends is quite vague.” HG observes.
“Well. With so many books to spark friendly interaction, might as well start with yours,” Annabel spins around triumphantly holding The Time Machine in her hand.
“Ahhhh! This is horrible!” Shouts HG.
“What?!”
He points to the label on the cart Annabel pulled his book from. “The clearance bin. You grabbed that from the clearance bin.”
“Don’t worry,” reassures Annabel. “I’m told all authors are more appreciated after their deaths. I mean, I was told that by Edgar and he thinks everything is made better by adding death, but still, it seems like a real thing.”
“Sure, but, um, that doesn’t really comfort me seeing as I’m dead,” counters HG, but with a hint of smile.
Annabel goes completely transparent. HG sees his book float up in the air. The clearance sticker seems to peel itself off as it floats across the store and replaces the center book of the recommended reads display. The rest of HG’s books in the store move one by one and form a neat stack behind his now displayed book.
“With a little patience I think this will turn around,” says Annabel becoming semi corporal again next to HG.
A girl balancing a tall stack of books in her arms is making her way to the cashier line. She stops by the display. She carefully shifts the weight to her left arm and tentatively reaches out her right arm. She picks up and turns over HG’s book. She mumbles to herself, “time travel . . . adventure . . . and . . . troglodytes.” She adds it to the top her pile. She grabs the one on the top of the pile and flips it open. After reading a couple pages, she smiles, nods, and throws it on top. She starts to walk away, but stops, takes a step back, and throws on two more from the pile at random.
“This can’t be right,” HG says with a huge smile.
“What can’t?” asks Annabel.
“Well it seems that you have demonstrated, my dear friend Annabel Lee, that the reason authors are more popular after their deaths is because they influence their own popularity after their death through their specter form.”
“Oh, have I done something wrong?” She asks, starting to doubt her uncharacteristically rash behavior.
“To the contrary! It’s fascinating and I’m honoured you would do something like this for me.”
Just then a yellow card drops from above. HG fumbles with it a few times before he loses control and it flies forward toward Annabel who grabs it effortlessly. She looks around trying to find its source. Giving up she holds it so both her and HG can read it.
Careful you two. Your friendship is showing. Let’s raise a toast to your big accomplishment.
“There’s an address,” observes HG.
“And it’s not too far. Let’s go.”
They excitedly head for the door.
____________
They stand in front of the shop matching the address printed on the friendventure card, as HG had named it, and Annabel thought was quite appropriate. A chalkboard placker stands out front of the shop.
Raise a glass to the best Martini Tasting Room in town!
They go inside and see Lenore at a table in the center of the room. Her feet propped up on an empty chair, carefully swirling the small amount of liquid in the tiny martini glass she holds. Three other identical glasses sit in a row in front of her on the table.
“Martini tasting?” Annabel asks Lenore. “I’ve heard of wine tasting, but how many types of martinis can there be?”
“Right?” Agrees HG. “Imagine how it was created. ‘Oops I just poured straight liquor into this cup without remembering the mixer. Guess I’ll throw in an olive and move it to an odd shaped glass. All better! I’m an inventor.’ No! You’re really not”
Annabel giggles.
Lenore rolls her eyes and begins listing in rapid succession all the possibilities while counting them off on her fingers. “Gin or vodka?: Dry or sweet vermouth?: Shaken or stirred?: Dirty?: Dry?”
“You already said dry,” observes HG.
“Yes, but that was in a different context.” lenore pauses to remember where she left off before regaining her stride, “and that’s just the traditional variations. I haven’t even started on the possibilities of using fruit juice instead of olive juice. Or liqueur! Or….”
Annabel whispers to HG, “I had no idea one drink was so full of infinite possibilities.”
HG nods, “Indeed.”
“Strawberry or mango maybe . . .” continues Lenore.
Annabel and HG burst into a fit of laughter.
“What’s so funny?” Lenore asks.
“Can’t help it.” Annabel gets out through the laughter. “We’ve had a rather joyful day.”
“Indeed,” he agrees again. “I would call your experiment a success.”
“It wasn’t an experiment. It was a scheme.” Lenore corrects him, “I call it, a clue hunt. I think the name needs work, but otherwise I expect it to catch on.”
“Whatever it’s called, I think it’s brilliant,” HG assures her.
“I had a lovely time,” adds Annabel.
“Oh look at my besties being besties!” Lenore throws her arms around the new BFF pair and pulls them in tight. “Now, let’s get back to haunting old grumpy pants.”