Chapter 15
Interventions
The limo rolled up to the curb a few houses down from the Deegan residence. Safety-conscious Bailey never blocked driveways or parked close to fire hydrants. As soon as the vehicle came to a stop, Muffy was ready to pounce, exiting flawlessly into a purposeful march toward the front stoop. The door was not locked, and Muffy was glad. Knocking and asking for permission to enter was the last thing she felt like doing right now. Prunella did not deserve that courtesy. Focused on the task at hand, she made a beeline for the stairs and ascended them, stomping as she did, until she reached the loft landing.
Both Prunella and Marina were in the loft, engaged, Muffy assumed in their respective homework assignments. Prunella lay prone atop her bed, chin resting in her hands, as she read from her laptop. Marina sat at the round table with a book open in front of her. A sizeable bowl filled with tortilla chips as well as two smaller bowls of salsa and guacamole sat on the table ahead of her, along with two cans of grape soda, one regular, one diet.
Marina had been the first to become aware of Muffy's presence. She had paused in the middle of turning a page and tilted her head as if anticipating hearing someone speak. Immersed in her reading, Prunella still had no idea she was in the room with them, not until she cleared her throat angrily, shooting her what Muffy hoped was a menacing look. Prunella glanced her way and back to her computer, only to gasp as she did a double-take, looking surprised. As well, she looked frightened.
She should be.
Prunella never really had a fair shot at being the first to become indignant.
"What are—"
"You need to fix this mess you've created, Prunella," Muffy said, cutting her off.
"What's going on?" said Marina, dropping her page. "Muffy, is that you?"
"What are you doing here, Muffy?" Prunella said as she moved to sit on the edge of her bed. Just who do you think you are, strutting in here uninvited?"
Prunella's words tried to convey that she was furious at Muffy's audacity, to barge into her home and boss her around for no good reason, but she lacked conviction. Her wiry frame was tense. A wide-eyed expression of a child caught sneaking cookies betrayed she knew the jig was up.
"I'm the friend you bamboozled into hosting a séance just so you could scare the hell out of Alan, and I'm not happy."
Prunella stood.
"You need to relax. Okay? You're acting like I stole your jewelry, or something. It was just a prank, and not even a great one. People were entertained at a Halloween party. You should be thanking me. As a plus, I got some payback on the know-it-all. So what? After the aggravation he has caused me, I think it's high time. No one got hurt, so why are you so upset?"
"I don't appreciate being used," Muffy said, ignoring the look Prunella was giving her, one that said she enjoyed the irony of a user disliking the concept of being used. "And just so you know, someone did get hurt. You really shook Alan. He's been having bad dreams, and he somehow thinks it's tied to your phony spiritual connection."
Prunella took a moment to savor that bit of information. Huffing out a small, delighted laugh.
"You're serious? That's funny."
Muffy wanted to shake her.
"It really isn't. You disturbed him, and it's pretty deep. I don't care what kind of vendetta you've got against him, but you are going to make things right."
"Why do you care so much, Muffy?"
There was not much Muffy could tell Prunella that would not give Alan and his struggles away. She had sworn her confidence to him, and he still worried about her keeping the promise she had made to him in the limo cabin. How to get the point across to Prunella and spare his secrets, his feelings?
Take one for the team, she thought.
And what team was that, exactly?
Why, Team Hot Mess, of course. We have our problems, and we hold our secrets dear.
She could take responsibility for this. She would have to.
Oh, go on. Everyone already thinks the worst of you. It's an easy sell.
She was trying to cure her rep disease. This would not bring her any closer to the black as far as her karma deficit was concerned.
Whatever. I can take the setback. Alan can't.
"Haven't you figured it out?" Muffy said. "Alan is my tutor. I'm his tutee. I can't get my life back fully and completely without his help, and he can't help me if he's a nervous wreck. Pretty simple."
Though she had said it to help Alan save face, it occurred to Muffy that there was truth to it. She needed Alan's help. In turn, Alan needed to be healthy enough to function in order to help her. It amazed her that this had ended up being her BS excuse and not her original concern. Not long ago, her problems likely would have been the only ones that mattered to her.
Prunella still looked skeptical.
"Yeah? You're sure that's all? I would have expected you to find another tutor after he lost it on you at the library. It sounded like he threw some pretty epic burns at you. The Muffy Crosswire I know wouldn't have taken that lying down, but not only are you still paying him, you're like his bestie-slash-babysitter. Don't think I didn't notice you chasing after him Saturday night. Why are you two so chummy lately?"
"Because, duh, he's literally the only person I've been allowed to hang out with since last month."
"But you're on parole, right? Why stick so closely with him now? Ah… I get it. Ooh la la, Miss Crosswire."
Muffy shook her head.
"It's not like that."
"Then what's it like?"
"You really are ridiculous."
Muffy fought not to become flustered by the accusation.
"Sure. I knew you were a fan of abusive romances in fiction, but who knew you'd pursue one in real life."
"You know," Muffy said crossing her arms, "just because two people spend an inordinate amount of time together, that doesn't mean they are together together. If that were the case, I could apply your logic to countless people…even to you and Marina—"
"You shut your mouth, Muffy!" Prunella snapped.
Until now, Prunella had only been offended by the unannounced visit, but now Muffy's comment had flat-out angered her. Muffy had never seen her like this. Prunella's outburst had only lasted a second, cooling as quickly as it had flashed, but it had been raw and severe. Prunella avoided Muffy's gaze. Muffy stole a quick glance at Marina. The girl had dipped her head as she, Muffy supposed, feigned interest in her book, her cheeks pink.
Oh. Wow.
Did this mean what she suspected it meant? Was there something more to Prunella and Marina's friendship.? She had not considered that Prunella might be interested in girls. In hindsight it made sense why she never talked about guys or low-key deflected whenever Muffy brought it up. For years, Muffy had treated Prunella as if she were just as straight as she was. How uncomfortable that must have made her. While this was certainly an interesting revelation to have any other day, she was on a mission and could not allow herself to be deterred.
Prunella had seemed to pull herself together and, once again, she deflected, this time back to Muffy and Alan's non-existent romance with, "You're even starting to sound like him."
Muffy willed her temper to stay at a level of extreme annoyance. It would be impossible to go any lower than that.
"The bottom line is I'm not leaving until you promise you'll apologize to Alan and explain to him how you knew all that stuff about Lydia Fox."
"You can't force me to—Lydia who? Are you talking about the wheelchair girl?"
"Oh, my god…" Marina muttered at Prunella's insensitivity. She looked more and more displeased as the argument between Muffy and Prunella went on.
"Brain thinks this has something to do with his geeky friend? I haven't seen her around. Does she even live in this town anymore?"
"She died two years ago," Muffy said. "It happened in her sleep… Wait a minute… You didn't know that?"
"Sorry," Prunella said, shaking her head. "She was in a different grade and went to a different school. I can't keep up with everybody."
"But…then…if you didn't even know she had died…you weren't talking about her at the séance."
"No, but I almost wish I had known. It would have made things so much easier. Do you know how hard I had to work for something I could use? We're talking some pretty deep cuts."
Prunella thought for a moment.
"What makes that girl so special anyway?"
Like Alan, Muffy was all in on the speculation that Prunella knew something about him and Lydia. Knowing now that was not the case, Muffy feared that she had already said too much. She did not know how far Alan and Lydia had taken things in their relationship. Alan had said he made his feelings clear to Lydia, however, which meant there must have been some progression, possibly even a kiss. She did not know for sure, and there was no way she would speak of it and provide Prunella with even more ammunition, especially not when she was on a mission to undo some damage.
"Never mind that. Who were you talking about at the séance? What kind of deep cuts?"
Prunella said nothing.
"Fess up, or I swear, Prunella, I'll make you regret it until you do."
"Fine, if you'll stop screeching about it. It was Brain's grandmother. Are you happy?"
"Grandmother?"
"Look, all I wanted to do was rattle him a little at the party, embarrass him and give him a moment of doubt in front of everybody. He's the king of skeptics, so I knew it wouldn't last long. But I was willing to take what I could get. The night I proposed the séance, on the way home from the Trifecta of Terror, I searched for something I could use. He used to cry constantly in kindergarten, which humiliated him, but there was nothing really juicy… Then I remembered that what I needed happened on the very first day of school in 1999. From what I gathered through his tears, he was upset because he had accidentally broken his grandmother's heirloom teapot. I remember that was the first time I had ever heard the word 'heirloom'. Over the weekend, he and his mother visited his grandmother. There had been tea and strawberry shortcake after lunch. Everyone was happy, he said, until he knocked the teapot off the table, and it smashed on the floor. He kept saying that, even though his grandmother told him it was okay, he knew deep down that she would be mad at him forever. Two years ago, I heard his grandmother died. Complications with heart surgery. I pieced everything together and thus the freak out at the séance."
If Alan's grandmother had passed two years ago, Muffy had not known about it.
"Is that the truth?"
"The whole truth and nothing but," Prunella said with a solemn nod.
"Because if you're lying to me, I swear I'll find out."
Muffy was still unwilling to come down from attack mode.
"And when I find out, you're not going to want to be anywhere near—"
"Muffy?"
That was Alan's voice. Muffy whirled around to see him on the landing, looking confused but antsy.
"You said you were going to Belmont," he said. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm taking care of business. What are you doing here?"
"Same. I'm here to do what we discussed earlier, that is to say."
"Uh…what?"
From the way Alan was looking at her, he had not expected her to be so confused.
"Remember, when you said I should consult a professional…but now I'm beginning to suspect we were thinking of different things."
"You thought I meant you should ask Prunella for help?"
He nodded meekly.
"Hold, please," Muffy said to Prunella. "Alan—stairs. Now."
She took Alan by the arm and led him midway down the staircase and said, "Seriously?"
Alan shifted his weight, looking uneasy. He placed one foot on the next step up as if to say he intended to go back to the loft no matter what Muffy had to say.
"Well…this is rather a unique situation, and Prunella has received payment for her work before, thereby making her a professional… I was sure this was what you were suggesting."
Muffy gaped at him.
"I never would have suggested this. I was talking about…" She got close and whispered, "I was talking about your friend Paula. Did you even talk to her about it this afternoon?"
Alan looked at his sneaker.
"Oh my god." she said loudly through gritted teeth. "I didn't think I needed to spell it out for you. She's the obvious choice—educated, not to mention competent. And just for future reference, so there will never be any confusion, Prunella is never the answer. To anything."
Alan waited a moment as if to ensure Muffy was finished ranting.
"Is that it?"
"No. Maybe it's a good thing you're here after all. Come with me," she said as she took him by the elbow again. "There's something you need to hear…"
They re-entered the loft to a cross Prunella.
"I could hear you slagging me."
"Good," Muffy said, guiding Alan closer to her. "Go on, Prunella, tell Alan everything you told me. Put this to rest once and for all."
Prunella looked to the ceiling and shook her head. With all the enthusiasm of a child being made to apologize by her parent, she began.
"Okay… I heard you were a little disturbed Saturday night, but you can relax now, all right? It was just a prank."
"Was it though?" Alan said.
"Um…yes?"
"No, I don't think so. That's why I'm here this afternoon. I have been considering contacting you for your services ever since I got home from Muffy's party. The only thing holding me back was my pride. I've dismissed you, said some less-than-nice things over the years, but I'm here to ask for your forgiveness and see if there is anything you can do for me. What you did was nothing short of astounding."
"You're not hearing me. It was a prank, Brain. I must've really messed with you, because dragging up your grandmother's teapot was not astounding."
"It— What? My grandmother's…?"
"Listen to me," Prunella said, and she explained everything she had confessed to Muffy, from her plot in the limo after the Trifecta of Terror to cobbling together the memories of the teapot and of his grandmother dying post heart surgery. "'The thing you have been wondering about,'" she repeated. "'The heirloom…' It's the teapot; that's where I got my ideas. This had nothing to do with Lydia."
"Except…" Alan said, face twisted with confusion, "that never happened."
"Yes, it did," Prunella whined. "I had to listen to you cry about that teapot for an entire day, so I think I know what I'm talking about."
"Sure, some of it happened but you don't have all your facts straight. My grandmother didn't die."
Prunella's mouth fell open. Muffy had known that part could not be true.
"No..." Prunella stammered. "But I thought… Your grandmother had complications with heart surgery two years ago."
"She had an infection, but she made a full recovery. She lives in Boerne, Texas with my aunt and uncle. Besides, she's not even the grandmother whose teapot I destroyed."
"No?"
Alan shook his head. "She's alive, too, if you're wondering."
"Maybe you should have done a little research" Muffy said with a smirk, happy this was all falling apart for Prunella. "You're even bad at scheming."
"I was only trying to get back at you for a second or two," Prunella said, ignoring Muffy. "Sorry if you misinterpreted things or read more into it."
"I don't think I'm misinterpreting anything, Prunella."
"Well, if I pull memories from the top of my head, whether they're real or not, then, I hate to say it, you kind of are."
"What if it wasn't off the top of your head?"
What? thought Muffy.
"What?" said Prunella.
"The things you said Saturday night struck me in a way I have never experienced, gave me a feeling I can't shake, even though it goes against everything I've ever learned or believed. Too much has happened over the past two years for me to write it off as merely coincidental. One coincidence? Fine. It's just a coincidence. Two? Three? Then combine them with your past accuracy, add a little physical evidence, and, well…I can't help but believe it all deserves further examination."
"I don't follow," Prunella said.
You and me both, thought Muffy.
"My past accuracy?"
"I'll get to that," Alan said, taking something from his jacket pocket. It was a chess piece, a queen from the look of it, pale and wooden. He held it out to Prunella, lifting it so she was staring at its round base.
"Tell me what you see," he said.
Prunella squinted.
"Hmmm… Kind of looks like a little stick man doing jumping jacks."
Alan sighed and rotated the piece slightly.
"Now?"
"The letters O and K?" said Prunella.
"Precisely," Alan said, looking triumphant.
"What does that mean?"
"It was an inside joke I shared with Lydia. It originated the day we… On the day it originated, we ate strawberries and drank Darjeeling tea. I never knew which variety of tea my mom and grandmother drank at lunch, so how did you come up with that specific tea during the séance?"
Prunella thought, looking unsure of herself.
"I don't know, I just really like the taste of Darjeeling," she offered. "It's the Champagne—"
"—of teas," said Alan. "So I've heard. It also happened to be Lydia's favorite. Two years ago, you saw a chessboard in the Tent of Portent, when you read your crystal for Lydia. You saw her and her grandmother playing chess."
He began to pace in front of a still-perplexed Prunella.
"This queen belongs to that chessboard, which was bequeathed to Lydia upon her grandmother's death. It's an heirloom. A few days after…Lydia's death, her parents gave the set to me, and it's been in my possession ever since. I think it's worth noting that her parents claimed to come up with the idea of giving me the set 'out of the blue' and 'right at the same time'."
Muffy wanted to stop this madness. Prunella, on the other hand was listening intently.
"Lydia always played white. She used to joke that I could use the advantage of seeing her first move," Alan continued, suppressing the tiniest smile at the memory. "I think there is a strong possibility Lydia scratched the letters on the bottom of the queen, but I don't know why. If you knew her… All of her collectibles were in pristine shape, and, according to her parents, this was one of her most prized items. I can't see her damaging it unless she had a good reason. Maybe she had a feeling that something was about to happen to her and left it for me to find, or, less likely but I won't rule it out, the letters appeared postmortem. Regardless, if there's any possible way, I'd like to find out why she did it."
"You think it's a message for you?" said Prunella.
"Maybe. But you were right, an heirloom was damaged, and I have been wondering about it. The day Mr. and Mrs. Fox gave the set to me, I…let's just say I wasn't feeling my best. I lashed out in anger, and I ended up smashing one corner of the board. It was perfect until then, if you don't count the letters scratched into it, I suppose. I have felt guilty about it ever since that day. I figure Lydia would be disappointed in me if she knew what I had done. Like you, I thought these marks were a stick figure, that is, until the night of Muffy's party, when you said to me—"
Prunella's expression lit up.
"The heirloom… The thing you have been wondering about for some time…" she repeated slowly.
"It's—"
"Okay?"
"Yes! Except she truncated it, to the letters O and K. It's okay. Could this be her way of telling me she forgives me? Or could she be using our inside joke as a way to get my attention? What if there are other things she wants to say? I would like to know for sure."
"So, what I told you at the séance…" Prunella mused, "was true."
"Not just the séance," he said. "At the Tent of Portent as well. You predicted Lydia's death. You told her that you saw her deceased grandparents in your crystal, beckoning her. You told me to beware Halloween and that my future would be filled with tears, darkness, and fear. Lydia died on Halloween, days after your reading, and things have been…difficult ever since."
So this was the reason Alan had fallen so far. It would soon be two years since Lydia's passing, and with all these strange coincidences—Muffy refused to consider them as anything but coincidences—surrounding her death, Alan lived with the weight of them on his mind. It was heartbreaking, not to mention disgusting that Prunella had gotten to him on such a deep level, even if it had been on accident. She expected Prunella to come to her senses and tell Alan as much, to make him understand. Instead, Prunella had never looked happier.
"You're saying that I might actually have a gift after all? I. Freaking. Knew. It. I knew it! I knew I was gifted!"
Alan pocketed the queen and faced Prunella, wringing his hands. It was not exactly a pleading gesture, but it was close.
"I have unanswered questions. I know you and I don't have a good history, but are you willing to help me?"
"You bet your sweet socks I am!"
As Alan and Prunella discussed how to proceed, excitement radiating from them, Muffy felt as if she were the one being pranked. A lead-heavy feeling of foreboding sat in her stomach. She looked at Marina who sat still, her arms folded on top of her open book. Her brow was furrowed and her lips were pressed together, looking as if she were concentrating on what Alan and Prunella were saying. Muffy moved to stand next to Marina, leaned over and uttered, "Hey."
Marina tilted her head upward, giving Muffy her attention.
"What do you make of this?" Muffy said in a low voice.
Marina sighed softly.
"Personally? I think we're the only sensible people in the room."
"I thought I got through to her, and now she does a one-eighty on me."
"What can I say? That's Prunella."
"I've got to stop her," said Muffy.
"You can try."
She would do more than try. When she looked back to Alan and Prunella, however, they were shaking hands. Alan looked manic, fearful, excited, the same mix of emotions he had expressed at his locker this afternoon. Prunella was grinning broadly.
"Deal," she said. "A second séance. Check back with me and let me know how it goes. Even if it doesn't pan out, we'll find an appropriate place to hold it and Marina and I will meet you there Saturday evening."
"Perfect," said Alan. "I'll be in touch."
He exited the loft without so much as a word to Muffy.
Muffy glared at Prunella, who stared wistfully after Alan, as if he had just asked her out and she were delighted to accept.
"What did you do?" Muffy hissed at her. "What's going on?"
The menace in Muffy's demands had no effect on Prunella. She could not hide her satisfied smile when she said, "Hopefully we'll find out on Saturday night."
Muffy stopped herself before she could lose it on Prunella, deciding instead to chase after Alan, growling in frustration as she, too, exited the loft as quickly as she could. She caught up with him outside, just as he had reached his bike.
"I presume you're going to harangue me about not approaching Dr. Hartmann-Krause with this," Alan said, not looking at her. "Please don't be upset."
"She was the obvious choice, Alan!"
"But you're going to be upset anyway," he said resignedly.
"Very, very, obvious, and the fact that I thought of it and you didn't kind of worries me—oh… You've been BS-ing your way through therapy, haven't you? It all makes sense now. This is your new escape."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Alan said defensively.
"Come on… You've found this one thing you think will bring you comfort and you're throwing yourself into it instead of dealing with your problems. You're caught up in this spiritualism thing, just like with your fix-it projects. You're just going to start this all over again."
"That's just— Not even remotely—"
"Why is it that I can see the pattern but you can't?" she said desperately. "This isn't you. You were doing so well, and now it's like you've forgotten about all the progress you've made. You're ignoring your health to…to chase ghosts—"
"For your information, I plan on telling Dr. Hartmann-Krause. At some point. If I'm wrong, maybe. But she is my contingency plan. This is plan A. I need time, that's all, just a little more time."
There was no getting through to Alan. Muffy backed away from him slowly.
"No," she said. "I can't let this happen again."
She spun around and walked toward the limo.
"What are you planning on doing?" Alan said.
"Telling your dad. He must be home by now."
"You can't!"
"Sorry, but I'm calling for an intervention."
"What about your wager with your father?"
Muffy stopped.
"Did you forget that?"
She had not forgotten it. She had even remembered it during her argument with Prunella. In her panic, however, it just didn't seem like a huge priority.
"Double punishment, Muffy," he said, his voice growing nearer to her.
She turned to see him catching up to her slowly.
"Are you willing to go it alone? Because that's exactly what will happen if you tell my parents. Say goodbye to our Tuesday and Thursday sessions. Think of your freedom. Think of your brother. Think of your father's good graces. You're putting it all at risk."
Alan looked as if he were holding back something else he wanted to say but swallowed it down. He was not wrong. He had helped her a great deal in a short amount of time. Muffy had come very far, and the success rate would be hard to duplicate on her own. There was also the unspoken matter of having someone around who understood her plight, how secure it made her feel. Going it alone would be scarier and more difficult. Sticking with Alan was the easy choice, but she was not positive that it was the right one. How could she be happy in her success if her success meant she had to watch Alan sink deeper and deeper? And then what? Would it be worse than what happened to him the last time he got so low?
"I guess we have to do what we must in pursuit of results," she said.
Alan's face relaxed, relief washing over him.
"I'm glad you're finally seeing things my—"
"I'm so sorry, Alan."
Muffy continued to the limo.
"Muffy, please!"
"I really don't want to lose everything all over again," she said over her shoulder, "but I can't look away if it means something bad could happen to you. At this point, I'm afraid it might."
"You're going to ruin everything! And I mean everything!"
"Don't worry about—hey!"
Alan had latched onto Muffy, planting his feet. He had not hurt her, but the abrupt stop had been jarring. She turned to see the fingers of Alan's left hand encircling her right wrist, gripping it firmly.
"What do you think you're doing? Let go of me."
It felt so offensive for someone to lay hands on her without her permission, and she could not help but grow indignant, a feeling that quickly melted away as she took in the look on Alan's face. He was not angry with her. Rather, he looked sad, distraught. Those were the same puppy dog eyes he had given her the day he tried to apologize for the library incident. Why? Was it because she was betraying his confidence mere days after swearing it to him outside the Crosswire estate, proving the suspicions he had expressed the night of her party correct after all? He might hate her after this, but an Alan who hated her, an Alan who was no longer her friend was better than an Alan in danger. And if she ended up failing on her wager to her father, she figured that was a small price to pay, too. Still, Alan held on.
"You mean it, don't you?" he said, his voice strained. 'You're ready to give all this up?"
"If it comes to that, yes. I know this feels like a slap in the face to you, but I'm… The last time things got out of hand, you ended up with stitches. What if something worse happens this time? I don't want that, and I don't want to be responsible for it. It's not worth it, not even if it means I'll be grounded until high school."
"Muffy—"
"I'll be fine."
"But I won't be!" said Alan. "Not without you… Don't you understand that without me telling you? I…need you."
There was a long silence between them during which Muffy was unable to decide if Alan was being sincere or if something had shorted in his brain.
"That's ridiculous," she said quietly. "I mean… I mean, why in the world would you need someone like me?"
Alan hesitated. It looked as if it pained him to say it aloud.
"You are the only friend with whom I can converse freely."
"Oh," she said in a tiny, surprised voice from somewhere deep inside her, then, soberer, "Oh."
He still held onto her, as if he feared she would make a run for it once the tension loosened. He closed his eyes for a moment, summoning his inner strength.
"It's not easy to express myself like this, especially after Lydia, so believe that I'm not feeding you a line when I say that…that your friendship, your presence, has meant more to me than I can adequately express, and you know how verbose I am."
Though his sentiments were touching, Muffy could not see anything that she had done that was of much value. Alan's problems were enormous, and she felt utterly powerless against them. People like Dr. Hartmann-Krause had the skills to make a difference, not her. Yet, Alan had chosen her, Muffy, as some sort of guiding light. Tears welled in her eyes, shame seeping in over the very idea of it.
"I haven't done anything."
"You have."
"What have I done for you? I gave you water? I invited you to a party…which only made things worse. I can't help anybody, Alan, not where it counts. You know that. I can barely help myself."
Alan had not let go of Muffy, but he took a couple of paces toward her, narrowing the gap.
"When I walked out of Dr. Hartmann-Krause's office that day and saw you across the street, I was sure that, especially after what happened at the library, my life as I knew it was over. I knew that I would go to school the next day, and I would be called 'emo' or 'Crazy Alan' or 'that mental kid'. And those who didn't make fun of me would be too put off to ever interact with me again. Over the years, I found ways to help myself in my darkest times, like my shop, for instance. But, with my secret out, there would be nowhere to go. The gossip queen would see to it."
She was really beginning to hate that name.
"You surprised me that day, in the best way imaginable. You've been nothing but kind, kinder than I probably deserve. Moreover, you accepted me, tried to include me. I don't know why you did it, but I'm glad. Your being there made all the difference in the world. When you're around, even though we don't talk about it, I feel as if I could. I feel like I have an ally, like I'm less alone."
That was the way she felt having Alan, Alan in particular, as her tutor. She was less alone.
Alan sank to his knees and said, "I am begging you not to leave me behind."
Muffy breathed a huge sigh, exhaling heavily as if to rid herself of the burden, though it remained. Tears rolled down, and she hastily wiped them away and fanned her face.
"I don't know what to do," she said softly, helplessly. "I'm scared."
"Believe me," said Alan, "I'm well acquainted with those feelings. Please, don't cry."
"I can't help it. I don't want you to get hurt, but it feels like you will no matter what I do."
"If it's any consolation, I know how crazy this all sounds. No one knows it more than I do, but I still want to try because I need to know. I'm not fine with not knowing whether it's real, and I can't rest until I have answers. I know you're afraid on my behalf, but will you give me a chance before rushing to extremes? Could I at least bargain with you?"
Muffy sniffled. "What kind of bargain?"
"Let me go through with the séance, and I promise you that, whatever the results, I'll tell Dr. Hartmann-Krause everything. Please, Muffy, give me one more week?"
Alan was sincere in his appeal, Muffy knew, but that did not mean he was well. She imagined that these coincidences would be hard for someone like him to shake. He wanted answers, and he was the type of person who would exhaust all efforts until he got them. He needed to know. If he knew, would he finally be able to put Lydia to rest? Was there a way for him to perform this one last experiment and ensure that he would remain safe? There was only one way to find out.
Muffy tugged on Alan's hand, helping him to his feet. She pointed at him, kept reaching out toward his chest until she buried her fingertip in his sweater.
"Don't make me regret keeping my mouth shut," she said. "What can I do to help?"
"You mean it?"
She nodded. If she was going to condone this, she may as well stick close by Alan and keep an eye on things.
"Um, you can start by helping me secure a setting for the séance. According to Prunella, holding a séance in the place where the 'activity' is taking place could help our chances of making contact, so I'd like to hold it in my room."
"You want me to help you clean your room?"
"Not exactly. There's a problem, and I'm not sure I'll be able to work around it. You see, I think my mom would have a panic attack if she knew occult practices were taking place under her roof. If we could somehow get my parents out of the house for a few hours on Saturday, she would never have to know. How can I achieve that?"
"One of the best ways to get someone to do what you want is to figure out what they want and exploit it," Muffy said. "So, what do they want?"
Alan looked as if he were casting around for ideas.
"I'm not sure, a normal son?"
"Stop talking like that!" Muffy said with a stamp of her foot. "You need to get real. You are Alan freaking Powers. Your parents are damn lucky to have a son like you, and they know it. Can't you think of anything they would like?"
Alan fleetingly appeared to be taken by the complement.
"Well… I know they have been worried and stressed out lately, thanks to me." He threw his hands up in surrender at the warning look she gave him. "All right, I'll stop. But honestly…maybe they would appreciate a moment to unwind and enjoy themselves. A break. But I don't see how—"
"Stop! That…I can work with."
"Yeah?" he said hopefully.
"Give me a second… Ohmigosh! Got it! This is perfect."
"What? You've got something already?"
"It's a gift. Literally. Get in the limo. I'll have Bailey pack up your bike, and I'll tell you on the way home. We have a plan to devise."
To be continued…
