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It had been a lot of months since the failed attempt of marriages back in Autumn. Summer had seeped in their Manhattan apartment, the sun warming them through the tall windows. Astrid was sipping a cup of iced tea and nibbling on toast. Her mother was twisting her latest stress toy between her hands while her face retained a serenity it hadn’t known before Rory was… let go of.
Astrid’s relationship with her mother had been rocky since her father’s death, to say the least. Repairing it came easier after… Everything that had happened last Halloween, but it still required work.
Occult lessons were work too, in a sense, but they were also fun. Frustrating, at times; the Netherworld made little sense compared to the rules of the living, but… It was definitely rewarding. More than anything, the lessons were necessary.
Growing up, Astrid’s mother had not had the benefit of a knowledgeable professional to help her navigate this strange, strange world, and she had made it clear that her daughter’s fate would be different. Since Astrid could also see ghosts, she saw the necessity as well.
Most ghosts were, if not friendly, indifferent. Some were overjoyed that they were finally being seen. Some were sad. Some begged for help.
Some were dangerous.
No one wanted a repeat of Betelgeuse, and so, occult lessons had begun.
“You did better on the circle of protection’s drawing,” commented her mother, tracing with her finger the piece of paper Astrid had turned in for her ‘assignment’.
They were extremely rare in use, Astrid had learned, but once they became necessary, they were essential to know. She did hope she never would have any use for them. Demons sounded about as fun as an acid injection.
“Can you cite its description in the handbook?”
Astrid repeated the words, stumbling just a bit over a turn of phrase or two. Her mother never minded the phrasing - unless it actually mattered for some specific section - as long as Astrid understood its meaning.
The Handbook of the Recently Deceased was a pillar of Astrid’s learning. She had been reading it almost every night before bed. There were more pages than it seemed at first, some of them appearing or disappearing at will.
Lydia had given her the copy she had once owned. Astrid’s medium, ex-tv host mother knew every line of every paragraph by heart. She could even name the page based on a passage. The only things she didn’t know were the passages written in some inhuman language.
Looking at some episodes from her mother’s show now, Astrid was grateful for the almost obsessive studying that Lydia would have done to achieve this level of knowledge. When it was all fake, she didn’t care much for the occult, but now she realised that her mother had faced off a few creatures that were far too dangerous to approach blind.
She finished citing the passage, then looked at her mom. Lydia seemed so much softer under the warm morning light, dressed in black silk and big fluffy pink slippers. Her mother’s hair looked like a crow’s nest regardless of the amount of brushing, but Astrid could tell she hadn’t gotten around to using her comb just yet.
Something had been on Astrid’s mind for a couple of months now. In and out, barely a full thought at first, a constant nagging now.
This seemed to be the perfect moment to ask.
"So there's one thing I don't understand. You've studied the handbook, right?"
Astrid’s mother seemed surprised. This was now a well established fact.
"Thoroughly, yes, why? Is there something in it in particular you wanted me to explain?" Lydia shook her head a little as she spoke, showing her confusion.
There it was. A ‘speak now or forever hold your piece’ moment.
"No, it's just... well, during the... when He tried to marry you... I found the loophole."
Lydia blinked, putting her stress toy down on the table. It looked like a big silicon worm. It was red and green and looked completely deranged. Well, its eyes did. They popped out of their socket and looked in different directions from one another.
"You did,” her mother said. “And I am grateful for that but you are still not getting your curfew privileges back after what happened with Jeremy."
Astrid tried to refrain from rolling her eyes (and failed from doing so). She was never going to live down the Jeremy thing. Which, sure, that was understandable, her life had been in danger, but she was totally over it now. Well, mostly, it was a lot to work through. And her mom didn’t have to worry about her flinging her soul at the first cute ghost she saw anymore! That was a once in a lifetime kind of mistake.
"That's not - I'm not talking about that right now,” Astrid waved the subject away with her free hand while grabbing the cup of tea with the other, “See, what I don't understand is- you've read the handbook. You've studied it. How did you not know about the loophole?"
There was a pregnant pause during which Astrid took a sip. The sugar would make her teeth rot, but she’d worry about that later. Maybe once she was old.
"... It is a long book, Astrid,” finally answered Lydia. “I can't remember every clause and exceptions in it. I simply forgot."
"Sure, that makes sense."
Astrid wondered if her voice sounded as unconvinced as she was. She took another sip, and her mother grabbed the deranged worm again. Its eyes popped in and out of their sockets as she squeezed. They looked like they would fall out any second.
"Buuuut…,” Astrid said just as Lydia seemed to relax, “isn't contract breaking exceptions something you would be even more mindful of considering what happened the first time he was around?"
"What point are you getting at, sweetie?"
This time, her mother’s reaction came at her much faster. Was that a hint of annoyance? Her mother had gotten some of her bite back since Rory was gone, but she rarely used it on Astrid.
"Just felt like you weren't really trying to get out of it until I stepped in,” muttered Astrid before muffling herself with the cup.
“... Draw another circle, I just found a mistake in the last one.”
Well, then. It would probably take some time before they could revisit this subject again. Her mother had some introspective work to do.