In Nightmares We're Alone by Greg Sisco Page B

that is enjoyable and fulfilling.
    When Arthur comes in for the fiftieth time this year, I greet him with a firm handshake and a smile and tell him, “I’m glad you’re finally back. Your father-in-law has been trying to communicate with me a lot this week.”
    He says, “I thought he must be. He seems so active around the house these last days.”
    Arthur’s an older guy. He’s got multiple sclerosis and moves around with a cane and slurs his words together so he sounds drunk and angry all the time, but really he’s just as weak and damaged and scared as everyone. He wants you to tell him everything will be okay. Everybody wants that. You just have to learn to figure out the words they need it said in. The key to all social interaction is learning how to say ‘It’ll all be okay’ in the right tone.
    “I’m terrified he’s trying to take Grace from us,” says Arthur. “She took such a turn for the worse today. She’s been talking to him, reacting like he’s right there with her, telling him they’ll be together soon. I think he’s trying to kill her.”
    “Let’s see if we can’t contact him, shall we?”
    I dim the lights and exhale. I turn my palms up.
    “Tom? Are you here, Tom?” asks Arthur.
    “I’m here,” I say, taking on the voice of a dead man to please a living one.
    “Tom? Are you…? Do you…? Have you been talking to Grace?”
    “Every day. To her and to you and to Edna. I’m with you always. Whenever you need me.”
    “You’re torturing her. You won’t let her let go of you, just for a while, just to live out the rest of her life. Her daughter needs her. If you’d just give her space, she’d get better. You’re making us suffer.”
    “Arthur… I know I wasn’t the best father-in-law I could have been, but if you think I don’t have my daughter’s well-being in mind, you’re mistaken. I don’t want to take Grace away. She’s with me always and I’m with her, even when we’re apart. I tell her to be strong, but it’s hard for her. It’s harder for her than it is for you or Edna. I’m not pulling her away from you, she’s deciding whether to pull herself to me. And I hope she’s strong enough not to do it just yet, but if she isn’t I’ll embrace her and forgive her and I hope you’ll do the same. She and I will be with the two of you forever.”
    Bibbity beep bop boop.
    It gets easy, trust me. A few sessions and these people spill their entire life stories. I bet I know this guy damn near as well as his wife of twenty-five years.
    By the time I’ve argued with him in Tom’s voice for thirty minutes, Arthur hugs me and cries in my shoulder and tells me what a great man I am for sharing my gift with the world.
    Nobody but me can do the things I do the way I do them.

    * * * * *

    “Hello,” says Ms. Giddings, my last client of the day, new blood. “This is a nice place.”
    My office is my living room. Trish and Nikki take turns decorating it. Both keep rearranging furniture and forcing me to take the blame lest they learn about each other. Neither can abide the other’s tastes. Whenever Nikki and I agree on a new position for a coffee table or a lamp, Trish throws a fit over how it will affect my chi or the aura of my house.
    That feng shui crap. You know it’s bullshit because they’re both obsessed with it and can’t reach a consensus. But if you’re going to talk to the dead, these are the people you have to put up with.
    “Thank you,” I say to Ms. Giddings. “I decorated it myself.”
    “You certainly have an eye for design.”
    “Have a seat. Can I get you anything? Water, coffee, tea?”
    “No thank you. Um… Sorry. I’m nervous.”
    “Don’t be. Take a seat here.”
    “I’ve never done anything like this before.”
    “Well, lucky for you, I have. Should I call you Ms. Giddings?”
    “Elaine. Please.”
    Elaine. Pretty name. Not common anymore. Most Elaines are in their forties or fifties, but this girl doesn’t look much older