"I'll just say it," he said, turning a shade of red. "I wanted to, well, love them first."
"Love them?" asked Allison.
"Yes," he said.
"And do you love them now?"
"More than you know."
"I think we know, Charlie," I said. "It kinda comes across in the story."
"Oh, thank God," he said. "I mean, I knew I loved them, but I wasn't sure if I was able to convey that to the reader."
"You conveyed the crap out of it," said Allison.
I nearly added my own praise but figured Allison had blown enough sunshine up his ass. I knew Charlie hadn't recognized his "ghost" because he hadn't actually seen her. I had seen her, using the second sight that I had been blessed-or cursed-with. The sight that sees the energetic world side by side with the physical.
Charlie might have caught a snatch of this thought, because he asked, "How can you two be so sure the ghost is Autumn? I mean, no offense, but you weren't even here when Sam saw the ghost-"
"Oh, she described it in great detail," said Allison. "Sam has an amazing flair for details. It's what makes her such a great detective. And why she thinks so highly of herself. And why, possibly, she takes her friends for granted."
"Um..." said Charlie.
Allie, cool it, I thought, knowing she could read my thoughts, even if hers were presently blocked from me. At the same time, I instructed Charlie to forget what he was about to hear in the next few minutes.
I turned to Allison. "Whatever I said to you, I'm sorry."
"You say lots of mean things, Sam. Things that make me feel small. I'm not small. I'm just as powerful as you, in my own right. You should see the things I can do now."
"I have seen them, and you are powerful, and you are not small. Look, can we have this talk later?"
"Why not now? In fact, I insist we talk about it now-there you go again!"
"What?" Except I suspected I knew what.
"Damn straight you know what. You rolled your eyes. Again. As in, what I think and want isn't as important as what you think and want."
"I didn't say that."
"But your eyes said it!"
"I can't help what my eyes do."
"Yes, you can, Sam. Just like you can help what you say and think."
"Thinking is trickier. And if you look deep enough, you will see I have nothing but respect and..." I hesitated. It was a natural instinct not to give Allison too much. When I gave her an inch, she took a mile.
"What, Sam? I want to hear it. Or do you have that word permanently blocked from me?"
"It's not permanently blocked. You know I do. We've been through a lot together."
"Then say it, Sam. Say it in front of Charlie too."
"Charlie's not listening to us," I said. "Not really."
"Well, say it anyway."
"Do I have to?"
"Yes."
"You shouldn't make someone say it. It should come out naturally."
"Well, naturally for you is like pulling teeth."
"I'm not sure that metaphor makes sense-"
"Say it, damn it."
"Fine," I said. "I respect and like you."
"Sam..."
"I respect and adore you?"
"Sam, you suck."
"You can't make someone say I love you," I said. "Even friends."
"Well, it doesn't seem like you do sometimes."
"You know I do, Allie. You can see it right there in my thoughts."
She knew I did, and she obviously saw it there in my thoughts.
"You really do, Sam?"
"Of course, now can we get back to-"
She threw herself on me, hugging me far too hard, and getting way, way up in my personal space. "I love you, too, Sam! More than you know."
"I know," I said, rolling the crap out of my eyes. "I know."
"I see that, Sam. There's a mirror behind you. But I don't care. And yes, that was you giving an inch, and this is me taking a mile. Deal with it."
***
"I'm sorry, I seem to have lost my train of thought," said Charlie. "What were we talking about?"
"We were talking about how the ghost might just be Queen Autumn from your unfinished novel," I said.
"Right." He shook his head a little. "And what makes you think the ghost is a character from my novel?"
"We don't for sure. But we think it might be one and the same."
"But a ghost is a ghost... and a character is, well, made up." He tapped his brain. "In here."