GF Fanfic - Social Dysfunction
Amidst the Pines, Beneath the Falls (11,953 words) by darkspine10
Chapters: 13/16
Fandom: Gravity Falls
The ringing bell above the door of the store was barely registered when mother and daughter entered. Merrise skittered among the aisles. “Don’t knock anything over,” Pacifica called to her daughter, sighing when her plea went unheard. Even in a store this small Merrise could manage to vanish from sight. She trudged to the front desk, where the manager was already excited to greet her new visitors.
“Howdy sis,” Mabel said, leaning on the counter. Before she could ask her friend how she was doing or exchange the slightest of pleasantries, Pacifica had walked over to the desk and rested her head against it. “Uh, you ok?”
“No, not really.” She’d been up half the night, trying to calm down Leah after a nightmare. She’d winced at the birdsong on the walk over, reminded far too much of her daughter’s squealing. She’d foisted the toddler off on her husband, who was deeply ensconced in research about something he’d described as a ‘threat to all life in this corner of the galaxy’. As if. He didn’t mind having a sympathetic ear to his ramblings - even if Leah could barely comprehend basic English yet.
Pacifica rubbed her temples. “You got any of those purging crystals, the ones that actually work? I’ve got some chores around the house that need doing and I could do with removing some negative vibes.This one’s no help today.” Merrise strolled by, enamoured with one of the shelves in Pines Pawns stacked with plastic figurines of dinosaurs and other extinct animals, the kind of figurines you only got in crappy gift shops. Probably stock from the museum over the road, but they felt right at home here.
Mabel put on her glasses and checked a clipboard. “Hmm, inventory’s a little light after last week. You used up my main supply.”
“So just go bully that gnome to get some more from his supplier.” She didn’t have the patience for this. “And do you have some painkillers? I feel a stress headache coming on.”
“Sure thing.” Mabel rooted around beneath the counter, her search for crystals forgotten. One-track mind, this one, Pacifica mused. Her friend threw her a strip of tablets and Pacifica gratefully swallowed one dry. “Now, what was the other thing you were after?”
“Purging. Crystals.”
“Oh, right, gotcha. You know I can’t keep giving them away, even if you’re family. My online storefront’s taken a hit cause of all that AI art junk these days.” Mabel despondently flipped over a page on the clipboard, then smiled. “Actually I might have some in the back, give me two ticks.”
As Mabel disappeared from sight, Pacifica started wistfully staring at a shelf containing large chunks of amethyst and obsidian. She could admire her old friend’s marketing skills. These pricey rocks - even the ones with no tangible powers whatsoever - attracted a certain class of customer who were willing to pay whatever it took and Mabel wasn’t shy about jacking up the prices. Pacifica felt a stab of guilt about her friend’s money woes, and resolved to give her at least a token payment for the crystals, even though she knew Mabel would try to refuse it.
“It’s amazing how useful magic can be,” she said absent-mindedly, trying to urge Mabel on. “One minute I’m a step away from an anxiety attack, the next, poof, nothing.” She laughed to herself, but didn’t get any reply from Mabel. Today wasn’t turning out to be her day. She felt Merrise bump into her and turned sharply. “What did I tell you about- oh.”
It wasn’t Merrise. A wide-eyed girl was looking up at her, apologetic.
“Amber, what have I told you about running about the place?” The girl’s mother walked towards the desk, but stopped in her tracks the instant she laid eyes on Pacifica. The stranger’s hair was styled in an afro, and she wore a fashionable white business suit. For Pacifica the years rolled back, and suddenly she felt like she was 13 years old again. She let out an audible gasp, while the woman spoke, astounded. “Pacifica, is that you?”
“Gina?”
Gina had once been a part of Pacifica’s closest circle of friends, her posse, her gang, who ruled over the Gravity Falls High School’s popular scene. Ever since the Northwests lost their manor, and the standing in town that came with it, Pacifica had gradually come to be seen as tainted, no longer worth any social capital. It had taken her a tough three or four years to find herself, with the help of Pines twins and their friend-group, and she gradually left behind her old friends. Despite drifting apart she’d remained connected to her group on various online socials, if only to peek occasionally at the gossip from her ‘old life’. Now it felt like looking through a window on another universe, one where she had followed the path set out for her by her parents all those decades ago.
Both she and Gina seemed stunned by the meeting, unable to form the words to start a conversation. The little girl who had bumped into her - Gina’s daughter presumably - noticed the awkwardness and ran off without a word.
“My, it’s been so long,” Gina said, looking over Pacifica with a critical gaze. Trying to analyse whether she was looking at a superior or inferior most likely. Pacifica felt like a piece of meat on display at a butcher’s.
Pacifica was done with all that, she told herself, even as she eyed the gold bangles on Gina’s wrist and the phone gripped loosely in one hand, an expensive Chiu-Tech 35X model that had only just been released. Still, there was no point getting hung up on formality. “Oh my god, it’s good to see you.” She went in for a small hug, though neither of them took to it very naturally. “When did we last meet-up? That pool party for Tiffany’s 15th?”
“It must have been. Of course she’s modelling now, Milan. Crazy how time flies.” Despite all the years of separation, Gina seemed genuinely enthused by their reunion, smiling and clutching Pacifica’s arms. “So what have you been up to, squirreled away here all this time! There were all these whispers about being disowned by your parents, very hush hush. Then you ended up as some bigshot artist, have I got that right?”
“An architect, but who’s counting.” Pacifica shrugged. “What about you? You look… good.” It was the most delicate way she could think to phrase her obvious nosiness. In her plaid shirt and a pair of non-descript jeans she felt highly inadequate next to her friend in her finely trimmed suit and skirt.
“Oh, swimmingly, dear.” Gina waved a hand like it was nothing. “The family business you know, high finance. To be fair it’s mostly boring meetings and schmoozing with clients. But forget about me, I want to hear everything from you.” Out of the side of her mouth, Gina said, “I heard you ran off and married one of those Pines twins!”
“Ok, no purging crystals round back, but I did scrounge up some illusion charms so if you’re worried about cleaning you can just hide the dirt til later.” Mabel, her face blocked by a cardboard box, sauntered back in. She dumped the box on the counter, then did a double-take when she saw Pacifica conversing with a stranger. “Oh hiya. Always nice to have newcomers passing through. Interested in buying a bobblehead, keyring, snowglobe? Something more pricey?” She had detected that the woman was wealthy.
Gina's eyes flicked to Pacifica’s wedding ring, then the almost identical gold band on Mabel’s finger. “That’s not… her, is it?”
With dawning realisation, Pacifica began to blush like a tomato. “Oh, god, no. No, this is my husband’s sister.” She grabbed Mabel by the arm and flashed a smile with too many teeth. “My good ‘ol sister-in-law!” From the look on Gina’s face she guessed that she sounded more like she was hiding deep in the closet.
Baffled, Mabel aimed a half-hearted smile at Gina, as if trying to corroborate her friend’s words. If anything, Gina found this more off-putting. Her eyes glanced at the door. “Well, perhaps I should go, I have places to be and-”
“Mom!” Gina’s kid ran up to them, with Merrise in tow. “Is it alright if we stay in town a bit longer? I met someone who wants to show me around.” Merrise flashed a confident expression to her mother, evidently excited to show a newcomer the town’s highlights. Pacifica blinked. Somehow her daughter had bonded with the girl in the five minutes they’d been together in the aisles of the store. And she thought Mabel was the only one with that kind of instant friendliness.
Unexpectedly, a wave of excitement swept over Gina’s face. Looking genuinely overjoyed, the woman bent over and tugged at Amber’s cheek, an act so sickeningly twee that both Pacifica and Mabel cringed. “Well, isn’t that delightful, honey. You finally made a friend! Maybe she can come to the event this afternoon.”
Merrise shrugged, unaware of what she’d walked into. “Sure, that could be fun.”
“Oh, perfect.” Gina clapped her hands together and her eyes panned across the shelves. “That’s why we wandered into this… rustic establishment.” Mabel missed the implied dig. “I was hoping to find a corsage, you know for a party? Would you have anything like that?”
“Don’t think so, hotshot, but I’m sure I could run out into the woods and grab some wildflowers for you.” Mabel wiggled her eyebrows at Gina, leading Pacifica to facepalm.
“Don’t flirt with the customers, May,” she whispered. “You can open your marriage on your own time. Besides, I’m not sure Merrise can go out with someone she’s just met.” She put her hands protectively on Merrise’s shoulders, who squirmed under the unwanted attention.
“She’s your daughter?” Gina looked from the girl to her supposed mother, eyes narrowing. The difference in skin colour projected by Merrise’s perception filter reared its ugly head once again. It tapped into the subconscious, treating her alien-ness as some kind of innate feature that differed her from her parents.
Pacifica was tired of this technological veil always leading to awkward conversations. “Adopted. I have another daughter as well, by birth. It’s… a long story.” Somehow the complications of her family life made Pacifica feel starkly embarrassed. That wasn’t even going into the more fantastical elements regarding Merrise. Any hint of weirdness would be profoundly gauche to a professional high-flyer like Gina, so she kept her mouth shut.
Gina processed the information, then flashed her an ironic grin. “You certainly have been busy, hidden away in the woods, adopting strays. It sounds like it must take an impressive woman to manage a household like that.”
Pacifica knew she ought to smile at the compliment but her lips failed to oblige. Instead her cheek muscles merely gave a small twitch. “Where’s Amber’s dad, then?” Pacifica asked, happy for any excuse to abruptly bat the conversation back into Gina’s court.
“Oh, Brett is fine. Amber and I arrived here last week and he’s still back in LA arranging some minor details of the move.”
“Brett, right,” Pacifica muttered. Of course that was his name.
“Actually, between you and me,” which was somewhat inaccurate given that Mabel and the kids could hear every word, “coming back up here in person was the only way I could think of to convince him that the move was the right idea. I want my daughter to experience some of that rural upbringing that I had, a chance to play in the dirt and mingle with the commoners.”
Pacifica couldn’t miss the obvious comment on her own station in life, having stuck around this place long after it was the fashionable thing to do. Apparently it was now a retro lifestyle. Who could have guessed? They’d have packs of influencers roaming the floating cliffs with selfie sticks next thing she knew.
“That reminds me. I’m hosting a party with some friends of mine, a housewarming kind of thing, you know?” Pacifica did know. It was the same old slumber party routine, to establish the pecking order, firm and fast. A chance to show off achievements and lord it over everyone else. “It’s being held in the McGucket Community Space, up on the hill. Oh wait, of course you know, that’s your old place, isn’t it?”
Gritting her teeth, Pacifica said, “Yeah, what a huge coincidence.”
“I don’t suppose you’d want to attend?”
“Um, I don’t think-”
“Amber’s met so few friends here in Oregon, it would be nice to make inroads with the locals. You should come, I insist. It would be just like old times.”
“Well, I’m not sure. I’ll need to check my calendar.” Inside she was panicking, torn between an instant revulsion against the whole concept and a politeness drilled into her at an instinctual level.
“Can we go, mom?” Merrise asked. It seemed that she was as eager as Amber to cement a new friendship. “Please?”
“Hey wait.” Mabel snapped her fingers. “That’s right, isn’t the manor one of the places where Dipper said he detected an anomaly? Those bubble things.”
Pacifica swore under her breath. “Oh, right, those.” Trust Mabel to throw her under the bus without thinking.
Out of the blue, Gina followed up Mabel’s suggestion with a comment of her own. “You know I did hear some rumours that the place was haunted. Utterly ridiculous of course, but you know how superstitious people get in this town. That cinches it. Pacifica, you must come to the party. You have history with the place. If there’s any kind of real haunting you must know a way to put a stop to it.”
Pacifica’s heart sank. She supposed that the possibility of an anomaly at the manor swung the decision. If it tied into her husband’s studies, then maybe it would help everyone in the long-term. There was always a risk that the party guests might actually be in danger. Actually, scratch that - the idea of a room full of rich snobs getting iced tipped the scale towards staying at home.
Gina turned to Mabel, and in a move that surprised both her and Pacifica, said, “And you come too I suppose. The Pines are the premier ghost-hunting family, right?”
“Yeah!” Mabel excitedly agreed, inadvertently roping in Pacifica no matter if she protested now.
“So,” Gina asked, “can I count on your attendance?”
Pacifica was caught in a trap. She looked from Gina, who had already assumed her response, to her daughter’s imploring face to support a new friend, to Mabel’s knowing smirk. Inwardly, she groaned. Outwardly, she put on a winning smile. “Why of course. I’d love to.”
Pacifica wrapped the black stole around her neck. It was the same one she’d owned as a child, still as fluffy as ever. Back then it had draped past her shoulders and over her chest, but this evening it barely inched beyond her collarbone. It was more like a travel pillow than a piece of distinguished finery. It was all she had. Pacifica’s independence from her parents had cost her the luxury of a varied wardrobe. Normally she could get by, but when it came to the fancier things in life she did find herself hankering for a touch of the old extravagance.
She smoothed down her midnight blue dress, satisfied with this aspect of her outfit. She’d worn a similar number to a gala in Venice. The strap hooked over one shoulder, leaving the other daringly bare and only mildly hidden by the stole. Painted nails matched the dress, but the look was offset by pale green mascara and lipstick, a bit of chiaroscuro to make the colours pop.
“Is all this necessary?”
Pacifica cast a critical eye over her daughter. Merrise looked vaguely uncomfortable in the dress, modified from the costume she’d worn on Summerween. It was over-designed - more of a heightened parody of 18th century fashion than the real deal - so Pacifica had trimmed it down the night before, snipping away extraneous laces and cutting the sleeves off entirely in the hope it would appear more contemporary. It was an obvious hack job, that anyone with real taste would spot in an instant. Mabel would probably consider it a resounding success.
Merrise hardly cared for it though, as she hauled the heavy fabric skirts up the drive towards the manor’s looming presence. No doubt her daughter would have considered jeans and a t-shirt the adequate choice, Pacifica thought despairingly. Every now again she noticed Merrise tugging at the top of the dress. It was tighter than when she’d last worn it. Merrise was getting taller and filling out the dress’s bodice. She might not share her daughter’s biology, but apparently Tengosans weren’t too different to humans in some regards. Puberty was coming all the same.
Pacifica knelt down, helping Merrise straighten her outfit. “It’s just for one afternoon.” She tried not to recall her own adolescence. That awkward summer when her chest had started ‘showing’, and her parents had lined up several photo shoots with her in swimwear for glossy finance magazines. She hoped to god that her own daughters would never suffer the humiliation of such pageantry. Pacifica made sure that her daughter’s golden medallion was in place and shining. A bit of jewellery might distract from any perceived shabbiness. “There, you look perfect.”
Merrise looked down at herself, still not impressed. “Mom, why are we doing all this, anyway?”
“Gina is an old friend. If she wants to catch up… well that’s her prerogative. Besides, Mason gets to spend time with you doing his activities. I want to do the same, show you a bit of my life.”
“But I thought you didn’t do this kind of thing anymore?” Merrise had lobbed a grenade right at the heart of the matter.
“I don’t,” Pacifica said, her confidence wavering. “Will you just do this for me, this one time? Then if you don’t enjoy it I won’t make you do it again, ok?”
Detecting some greater import to her mother’s words, Merrise nodded. “Alright, I'll do it for you. But I’m still not going to like this dress.”
“Fair enough,” she said with a smile.
Mother and daughter stood in front of the iron gates of the manor house. The building’s triangular awnings gave it a shadowy look, even in daylight. It stood up above the valley, leering like a magpie over its hoarded possessions. They were early, so only a few staff were currently in attendance, visible through the windows setting up Gina’s party. Pacifica fought the urge to turn on her heels and trek back down the hill. “Relax,” she thought, “it’s not one of your family’s events, it’s just a meet-and-greet with some rich strangers. You can mask your way through a couple of hours of that, easy.”
As she pushed the gate open with a whine - no servants had oiled the hinges recently, for shame - they heard a loud squeal of tires coming towards them up the winding driveway. Pacifica covered one ear to block out the revving motorbike engine. It came to a stop beside them, leaving a scent of burning rubber. The rider flicked up the visor of her helmet. “Howdy,” Mabel said.
She wore a bold pink dress which had a wider brim than Pacifica’s curve-hugging ensemble. Mabel had accentuated it with a pair of elegant white evening gloves, leaving her arm tattoos mostly covered. The whole impression clashed with the grungy bike. A far cry from the rhododendron bush she’d worn at her last Northwest Manor attendance. “Glad I didn’t have to lend you anything from my wardrobe,” Pacifica said haughtily as she scrutinised the attire, partly to cover up that she only possessed a handful of spares herself. She noticed a brown leather satchel hanging off Mabel’s hip; probably mystery solving gear.
Mabel shook her hair free of the helmet. In contrast to Pacifica's own perfectly straightened locks, Mabel had gone to the effort of curling her hair, or at least the side of her hair that wasn’t an undercut. Coils of steam still wafted up from some of the strands. It was a veritable warren of tangles and loops. She was unkempt and wild and free and shockingly beautiful to Pacifica's eyes. A small voice inside her whispered, ‘even more beautiful than you. It's because she's true to herself.’
She fought down a blush creeping into her cheek "You look... adequate."
Mabel snorted, but wasn't offended. "Nice to see you too, Paz." She swung one leg over the bike and clambered off in such an ungraceful manner as to dispel her mystique.
“You look amazing, May!” Merrise ran over to her aunt and excitedly touched the dress.
“Well, aren’t you the picture of a refined young lady?” Mabel squeezed Merrise into a hug. “Partytime: You’re gonna love this!” That would make one of them, Pacifica mused.
As they walked towards the manor they were all silent, as if in anticipation of having to be on their best behaviour all night. Pacifica glanced at the topiary hedges in the garden, mostly overgrown and left unattended - not unlike Mabel’s hairdo. It made her oddly sad. Despite the fact that nobody really cared how this place looked anymore, it was still a part of her childhood that she was pointlessly defensive of. A few peacocks roamed around, unafraid of human contact after McGucket had let their numbers grow. They had a truer right to the legacy of this place than she did anymore.
Mabel’s kitten heels clacked along the cobblestones with each step. Indecorously, she adjusted the top of her dress. Could neither of her companions keep their hands straight? Offhandedly, Mabel said, “You’re lucky I had this old thing lying around at home. Thanks for the offer earlier, Paz, but I’m not sure I’d fit into one of your dresses. Not in a bad way,” she hurried to add. “We have different body shapes, that’s all. I’m all slender and you’re a bit more, uh, top heavy.” She looked like she regretted opening her mouth.
“It’s… fine,” Pacifica said. She’d overcome a lot of her body issues over the past few months and tried to stay in control. Only one lower eyelid trembled. “Don’t worry about it. Now, about your cover.”
Mabel’s brief relief at avoiding a delicate incident vanished. She rooted around in her satchel and retrieved the heavy black box with a strap which she slung around her neck. This was one of her brother’s expensive cameras. She aimed it at Pacifica. “Say cheese?” There was a bright flash. Pacifica blinked, and didn’t give her friend the satisfaction of a smile when she excitedly printed out a photo of her dazed expression.
“There, you look the part now.”
“As a photographer? Paparazzi, really?”
Pacifica waved her off. “Oh, it’s nothing. I used to smuggle Mason into parties this way all the time in college.”
“Boy, I bet he just loved that. All those rich folks looking down on him.”
“It’s easier this way. Nobody will look at you twice and you can move about unseen. You’ll be invisible.”
“Hmmph, remind me to work on an actual invisibility spell so I don’t have to put up with this again. I thought Gina invited me, anyway?”
“That was a casual, spur-of-the-moment suggestion. Trust me, she didn’t mean it literally. If we deal with the weirdness problem then no-one attending this soiree need be any the wiser. Also, no politics please. I’m pretty sure these people will throw you out if you mention redistributing their wealth.”
“Aw, but riling them up is half the fun.” Mabel put on a pout, though somehow Pacifica knew she’d stay in line for her sake.
“Now, daughter.” She snapped her fingers, and Merrise blinked at her. She’d been standing staring into space, waiting for the adults to finish bickering. “Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” she said. “You two enjoy your ghost hunting.”
With that, Pacifica steeled herself and pushed open the double-doors of the mansion. Before they were even fully open she caught a glimpse of their reflections in the polished floor - Merrise and Mabel were gawking at the grand hall, with its arched window alcoves stretching away and the columns of stacked logs. The prehistoric whale skeleton still hung over the dancefloor, dusty and cobwebbed, with appropriated native thunderbird totems acting as an honour guard as they passed by. Caterers buzzed about in neatly pressed suits, moving tables into position and setting out silver trays for a buffet. It was a display of elegance, though a strained one. They were trying too hard, Pacifica thought. This kind of excess had to come naturally or not at all.
“Man, I forgot how fancy your old house was.” Mabel’s head turned here and there. Her easily impressed tastes were still intact then. “Not a bad place for a party if you can forget about all the hatred and oppression built into the walls.”
“Wait.” Merrise must have missed Gina’s comments earlier, but had processed what her aunt had said. She looked at her mother. “You used to live here?” Her head swam with the scale of the place.
“A long time ago. A very long time.” Pacifica kept her lips tightly pressed together.
Atop the grand staircase, before the fireplace, sat old Tate McGucket on a plain wooden rocking chair. He was observing the party set-up like a hawk, his arms folded and his face in a permanent scowl. When he caught sight of Pacifica and Mabel, he gave the slightest nod - the highest respect he could bestow, Pacifica knew. It raised her spirits, a sign that this wasn’t just a static mausoleum to her troubled childhood. It was a party venue, one of many, nothing more.
“Mrs Pines?
Pacifica turned her head. “Yes?” “Yes?”
Mabel had spoken simultaneously. They had a moment of confusion before remembering that the name technically applied to both of them. One of the caterers was gesturing them over to one side of the foyer, where tonight’s host was directing a gaggle of stressed servants.
“No no, the shrimp should go with the appetizers, not on the main table. I mean seriously, this is not a sushi restaurant. Ah, Pacifica dear, welcome.”
“Gina, darling.” They exchanged a series of light kisses on each others’ cheeks, before nakedly sizing each other up. Her so-called old friend was resplendent in a wine-coloured ballgown. She stood with a straight back, somehow seeming much more comfortable in these surroundings. Pacifica felt self-conscious, aware that she might be holding herself wrong, that her posture might betray her insecurity, with only a thin midnight blue covering to disguise herself. This all used to be so easy - now it was a performance. A not entirely successful one. She gave what she hoped was a wittering laugh. “This place is as drafty as ever, I see.”
“Ha, you did always have a sharp eye for criticism.” Was that a sly comment on her being too negative? Pacifica tried to keep her mask from slipping. This was a conversation, she didn’t need to turn into a minefield. Gina looked past her at Merrise, who was trying not to be noticed. “And your daughter, an image of her mother indeed.” Uh oh, another comment that might be passive-aggressive, given the state of Merrise’s outfit. Pacifica really hadn’t missed this. It didn’t appear that Gina had remembered Merrise’s name, so she waved her towards one of the side corridors. “Most of the kids have arrived here ahead of their parents. You know, business calls to make, work obligations to attend. They’ll all be along in an hour or so.”
“Merrise!” Gina’s daughter appeared, grinning. She covered the distance to them, strutting over in a pair of heels. Amber wore a near-identical dress to her mother, scaled down and tailored accordingly. Gina’s family weren’t strapped for cash then. At least Merrise finally something to latch onto. Quite literally, as Amber grabbed Merrise’s wrist and dragged her across the ballroom.
“See you later,” she called back as she was led away.
Gina watched them with a wistful smile. “To think, we were once like that. So eager to imitate our parents. It was all so glamorous. It’s good that they won’t be alone. Anyway, here I am yapping.” She seemed to notice Mabel for the first time, hanging in the back and making a token effort to take some photographs of the party prep. Her eyes were more taken by one of the food platters, and Pacifica and Gina spied her sneaking a bite of a bread roll. Gina leant to her friend’s ear and whispered. “I still cannot believe you married into that clan. They saved the town, sure, but…”
Pacifica couldn’t tell if that was admiration or apprehension in Gina's tone. Sure, she’d been around to face those horrors of Weirdmageddon like everyone else, the woman was well aware of what fate had been averted by the Pines. Yet there was a sense that Pacifica was still lowering herself by ‘getting involved’. Pacifica had heard rumours and scuttlebut over the years: that there was always the slim chance that the Pines, who some said caused the disaster in the first place, could lead to it happening all over again. Nonsense of course, but a common sentiment among those who didn’t know better.
“Well,” Pacifica said, “it means we’ll have this haunting sorted for you before you know it.”
“Yes, I suppose so. Do hurry back though. I want you to tell me all about your life, your family, those adventures I’ve heard so much about. I’d hate for you to miss out on the party as well, it’s probably been a while since you’ve last had the chance to let your hair down and enjoy the finer things.”
“It has.” Pacifica was guarded. Once again Gina’s comments were cutting a little too close to home. “Mabel,” she called in a clipped tone, “let’s go. We’ll sweep the upper floors.”
“Roger!” Mabel saluted and they walked in tandem. Pacifica felt as if Gina’s eyes were drilling into the back of her skull.
Mabel’s dress concealed her feet, and ideally it should have made her look like she was gliding across the dance floor, like a chess piece. Instead her powerful strides made it look ungainly, the fabric bunching up and falling behind in waves. “Do you think my ass looks big in this dress?”
Pacifica was glancing behind at Gina, who was waving at her with an expression she found hard to read. Sympathetically embarrassed with her, or taking pity on her? Who could say. “Sure, whatever.”
“You aren’t listening,” Mabel said, more curious than annoyed.
Meanwhile, across the manor Merrise’s wrist was starting to get sore in Amber’s grip. She didn’t think Amber was a bad kid, but she had her mother’s presumptiveness. She slowed down and Amber at least had the good grace to release her. In any case they were at their destination, a luxurious drawing room adorned with the stuffed heads of bears, elk, and unicorns. It leant the room a certain ominous air, that was only added to by the half a dozen or so girls staring at her with superior expressions. They ranged from ten years old to about fourteen, and all of them bar none wore fancier dresses than her.
“This is Merrise. She’s a local.” This was said by Amber as if she was describing some kind of mildly unsettling creature that grew in the bottom of a pond. “She’s my friend.” That was a bit better.
Amber pushed her slightly forwards, into the middle of the group. They were waiting for her to say something, to reveal whether she was mockable or not. “Uh, hi.” She waved at the girls, and several of them were shocked by her extra finger. She had to think of an opening, and tried to imagine what she’d do if Jenny was here. “Have any of you guys ever played DD and more D?” A sea of a half a dozen blank faces looked back at her. Off to a great start.
“No Mabel, we can’t swing by the kitchens first. We’ve got a job to do.”
“Aw, but by the time we get back the other guests will have eaten most of the buffet.”
“Then we’ll have to make this quick, won’t we?”
Their search of the house had been aimless so far. They wandered the upper hallways, enmeshed in wood-panels and landscape paintings. Mabel had questioned why the Northwests needed so many paintings of the valley, when they could have looked out the windows, and Pacifica explained it was about representing an idealised world. One free of poor people, mainly.
Mabel had brought her brother’s anomalous energy scanner to try and narrow down whatever might be occurring, but either they were in the eye of the storm and couldn’t pick up anything or there was simply nothing going on except some superstitious servants or party guests. It was an old building, full of creaks and dark passages. Plenty of room to unsettle someone without needing a mystical explanation.
Giving up on a technical solution, Mabel was now waving around a crystal dowsing rod. The polyhedral chunk of amethyst could supposedly suss out weird vibes. Pacifica was dubious, but Mabel swore by it. She swung the crystal around a blank wall where several tapestries had once hung. “Wouldn’t a congealed mass of concentrated madness-inducing substance be, I dunno, kind of obvious?”
Annoyed by her tone, Pacifica said, “Maybe it’s just more diffuse than the one Mason ran into? We don’t really know the first thing about ‘weirdness bubbles’” She made quote marks with her fingers, emphasising how dumb she found the phrasing. “Maybe they come and go and we happen to be unlucky today. Still beats hanging around downstairs and,” she shuddered “mingling.”
Mabel laughed. “Huh, I was worried that you were gonna do the whole ‘try and get back in the good books’ routine and leave me to do all the work.
“Oh please. I gave up on that idea after five minutes. That shit is exhausting.” She leaned against the wall and spun her ankles in the air, taking the strain off her heels. “I’d much rather be up here. I spend most days listening to songs for toddlers while cooking or watching Leah. Being a Mom can be tedious. Let Mason handle it for one day. Believe me, I’m excited as hell to investigate this mystery.”
“Awesome!” Mabel had been sullenly following her friend’s commands up ‘til now and with that weight off her chest perked up. “While we’re here we could visit your old bedroom.”
“No point. Don’t forget, I moved out when I was 13. I took all the stuff worth keeping. It’ll just be an empty room.”
“Yeah, but, won’t it have some emotional resonance?”
“I doubt it,” Pacifica said curtly, dismissing the idea entirely. She stared at her darkened nails, checking for cracks. “If you’ve got some plan of exorcising my childhood demons or whatever, you can forget it. I’m done navel-gazing. The only reason I’m here now is for Merrise, and to uncover a haunting. Come on.” She hurried down the corridor, wanting to sweep the place as fast as possible.
Mabel picked up her skirts to catch up. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in this part of the house before. Nice place if you can afford it, I guess.”
“You guess right, though decadence takes a certain personality type that I don’t think you match. You’d get bored too easily, wasting away in all the unending rooms.”
“Could be fun though, on these polished floors. You could get a pair of rollerskates and race around the place.”
“Always look on the bright side. I haven’t been back here since…”
“Since you broke through years of generational trauma? Since you burned all your bridges with your parents? Since-“
“SinceI got my architectural degree, I was going to say. This place is an architect’s nightmare, all the secret winding passages overlapping each other.” She knocked on the wall with the back of her fist. “Yep, hollow space here. Maybe you could say it’s an efficient use of space, but it’s claustrophobic. Do you know how useful a secret passage is in everyday life?”
“Um, no.”
“Not at all! It just becomes a convenient shortcut at best, and if you don’t know where the entrance is then what’s even the point? Another perfect example of wastefulness. McGucket had the right idea.” The old inventor had converted the west wing of the manor into a vast workshop for his experiments, building giant robots and tinkering at the edges of fringe science. “Gut the place and turn it into something useful.”
Mabel rattled the handle of another door, peeked inside and came away disappointed. “Yep, it’s another guest bedroom. All these halls and you know what we haven’t passed yet? Somewhere to take a whiz.”
“Tell me about it. Apart from the ensuites you’re out of luck. You can blame 19th century plumbing for that. I could talk for hours on the subject.” Mabel gave her a look that said ‘please don’t’. “Of course I’m more aware of these things, ever since pregnancy. I’ve had to be on bathroom watch.” She winced.
“So, what you’re saying is that we do need to find your bedroom? Hooray.”
“Ha ha, nice try. Let’s look in here.”
The upper east wing dining room was shrouded in darkness. Pacifica tugged on the thick curtains and let in a shaft of light, possibly the first illumination the room had been granted in decades. The dinner table was laid out with silver cutlery, buried under a layer of dust and cobwebs. Pacifica found where she’d always used to sit for those formal events when her parents wanted to cozy up to another industrialist and their family. She ran a finger along one of the knives. It still shone like new under all the grime.
Mabel admired her reflection in a spoon. “I guess the McGuckets weren’t big on table service.”
“They let all the servants go. Even the monkey butlers. Didn’t see the need to be waited on hand and foot.” She let the knife clatter down on the table. The sound echoed around the high-ceilinged room. “Let’s try somewhere else, there’s nothing in here but the ghosts of regret. Maybe some spiders too.”
“Wait, over here.” Mabel was intent on the spoon, like she was trying to bend it with her mind. “Something’s wrong with my reflection.”
Pacifica was about to berate her friend, to tell her that’s what all reflective concave surfaces are like, when she saw something flicker in the reflection. She took the spoon and studied it. The mirror image exaggerated her forehead to a hideous degree, so she adjusted the angle. As Mabel had said, there was something on the periphery, a portion of something larger lurking there. She held the spoon out in front of her decisively.
“Silver mirrors can trap ghosts. That’s the first thing Mason taught me.”
“A haunted spoon? Really?”
Pacifica put the spoon down. “I don’t think this is the main prison. There’s probably another mirror somewhere else in the house that this effect is radiating out from.”
“Cool, so there is a real poltergeist! Hopefully it’s not one I’ve subconsciously caused by accident, that’d make a change from last time. Do you know where we can find a bigger mirror?”
Pacifica sighed. “Yeah, I do. Downstairs.” She rushed off, once again leaving Mabel in the dust.
“Hey, slow down. I’m not used to running in these things.” She waggled an ankle, showing off the reddened skin around her heels. Pacifica could only laugh. Finally, running in heels gave her the advantage.
They took a circuitous route, out into the rear garden (through the territory of another flock of peacocks) and round to avoid the main hall. No need to give Gina a half-hearted update, it would only make them look unprofessional. When they neared their target, a locked door blocked the path. Pacifica recommended finding Tate and asking for the master key, but Mabel knelt down and examined the lock.
"No hay problema, hermana. I’ll be through in a jiffy.” Her satchel contained a pair of metal prongs which she inserted into the keyhole.
As she twisted the lockpicks around, the gloves somehow rendered her fingers more delicate. Mabel Pines wasn't someone Pacifica thought of as delicate. Mabel was... rough and tumble, hyperactive. Where her brother was considerate, she would rush in. Creative, but fuelled by manic bursts. Then again, all that knitting must take a fine patience. Her mechanical skill, evidenced by the bike she'd ridden in on, was also a fine-tuned expertise.
Apart from the click of the lockpick, the hallway was silent. Pacifica folded her arms, getting antsy waiting about. “By the way, the last time I was here was when I was 17. It wasn’t a huge deal.”
“I don’t remember it being a small deal,” Mabel muttered to herself. Skirting the topic, she asked, “Who was your other friend from back then? She and Gina used to stick to you like glue. Tiffany?”
“That’s right. Haven’t seen her since…” She had to dredge her memories. “My birthday. We were 15. Went to a concert with her, a boyband. Can’t remember which one. Gina had flu or something, and it all got kind of frosty between us after that, since I was shifting more to being friends with you guys. Gina and Tiffany wouldn’t have been seen dead hanging around with Candy and Grenda.”
“Tiffany, yeah. With the red hair.” Mabel nodded. “You know we used to date, one summer. Well, I say that, it was more like just the one date. Well, I say one.” She grimaced. “More like a quick fumble outside a club at 2am.”
Pacifica wrinkled her nose. “Please, Mabel, remember this simple thing: I don’t want to know about your love life. Will you try to act distinguished for once in your life?”
“Hey chill, I’m not aiming for Gina if you’re worried. I don’t think she’s my type.”
Pacifica wasn’t entirely convinced by that. Even if Mabel was married now that didn’t seem to stop her. “I still can’t believe she came back. She’s treating Gravity Falls like it’s an ‘underrated gem’ of a town, a secret getaway. Some shit like that, so she can post selfies online.”
“I guess it makes some sense. Me, you, and Dipper all wanted to come back here. After what we experienced as kids this place had such a magical touch on our lives. That or it’s just Grunkle Ford’s Law of Weirdness Magnetism coming back to haunt us.”
“Are you calling me weird?” Pacifica shot back, acidly.
“Well yeah,” Mabel replied, choosing to ignore the venom in her friend’s voice. “We’re all a bit strange, outsiders. Even you, Princess Above-it-All.” She stuck out her tongue. Pacifica, for all the disdain she tried to muster, couldn’t find that reaction anything other than charmingly simple.
She sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know. Right now it’s like every instinct is telling me to fit in, to stay in line. To not make a bad show of things in front of everybody.”
“It’s this place. And your old friend being around.” Mabel shrugged. “You won’t feel like that after tonight, I promise.”
“How do you make it all sound so easy?” Pacifica laughed dryly.
“Because it is!” Mabel’s smile was infectious. “It’s like this pointless ‘disguise’.” She briefly paused her lockpicking to take a lopsided photo of Pacifica using Dipper’s camera. “Gina already knows we’re related. I can’t embarrass you any more than that.”
Pacifica scratched her cheek, slightly paranoid of Mabel showing that photo to anyone in case it was unflattering. She tried to banish that impulse. “You only live once.”
“I heard someone tell me once that that’s not true. You actually live every single day of your life, if you seize the moment.”
“Who said that?” Pacifica asked, skeptical.
“I can’t remember. Probably someone super wise.”
“Be honest, you got that off a motivational quote from a Buzzfeed personality quiz.”
“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. The point still stands. You can’t get wrapped up in the bigger picture all the time.”
Pacifica laughed to herself and put her arms around Mabel in a hug. “How did we ever become friends?”
“What?”
“I mean, with Mason it makes sense. He’s cynical, like me, and a real sarcastic little bitch when he wants to be. Sure, we hated each other at first, but our personalities don’t clash that much. Meanwhile there’s you.”
“Exactly! I’m the sunshine to your raincloud. Opposites attract, you know.”
“Is that why you married Zera? I still don’t quite get that, she’s like the moodiest person I know.”
“She’s not moody, more…” Mabel stuck her tongue out and searched for the word. “...taciturn. Besides, you’re one to talk.”
“Excuse me? I am NOT moody, I’m-” She realised she was raising her voice. “Realistic about the state of the world.”
Mabel gently prised her friend’s arms off of her shoulders and got back to work on the lock. “Paz, you don’t have to overthink these things. We’re friends because of all we’ve been through together. We don’t have to have identical personalities to match up. You and Gina used to have the vibe going on, now look at the two of you. You haven’t spoken in forever.”
“You’re right.” Pacifica leant against the wood panelling and took a deep breath. “Maybe… maybe it’s time I fixed that. If it wasn’t for this ghost…” She frowned, then gave a dry laugh. “I think part of me wanted tonight to be a normal event. The kind I remember from when I was a kid. Because yeah, I did hate being forced into it, but there was something about all that elegance and beauty. I do find value in it, outside of all the social rituals and bullshit. I shouldn’t let my parents prejudice everything I do in life. They aren’t even here in-person and look how I’m letting them affect me, sheesh.”
“That’s the spirit. Ooh, and speaking of the ghost.” The door opened with a satisfying click. Mabel put away her tools and held the door open. “After you, Mrs Pines.”
“No, I insist, you first, Mrs Pines.”
Mabel grinned and took the first step inside. “Careful, you don’t want to confuse anyone else into thinking we’re the ones who are hitched.”
“Never in a million years,” Pacifica said cheerfully. Down the end of the newly unlocked passageway was a small nook containing a plush sofa and chairs with twin chandeliers. In any other home it might seem extravagant, but here it was a modest space. “Welcome to the sitting parlour.”
“Wow, decked out in white on white. Someone in your family was ahead of the trend on minimalist colour schemes.”
“Don’t get me started on it. Doesn’t look like anyone’s been here in…” Pacifica scanned along the thick rug, noticing a small area where the stitching was a little messed up. Anyone looking with less than a keen eye for detail would have missed it. Except for Pacifica, the selfsame person who had rubbed her shoe in the carpet to make a point. “13 years. We’d already moved out by then, of course. That was only a short visit.”
They looked up at the far wall, where a wide mirror stretched the length of the room. Pacifica stood before it, searching for hidden depths. Nothing jumped out, so she admired her reflection. Narcissistic, perhaps, but her mood had taken a hit today and it gratified her that she could still pull off this look in her thirties. Her dress appeared as pure black, the subtle blue indistinguishable through a layer of dust. Beside her, Mabel had her lower lip stuck out, displeased by what she saw in the glass.
“I knew the curls were a bad idea. It doesn’t match with the shaved part. I look like a mess.”
“No, no, I think you look good.” Pacifica stood behind Mabel, placing her hands supportingly on her friend’s shoulders.
“You promise it doesn’t look like an explosion in a hedge factory?”
“I promise.”
“Well, if we’re giving out free fashion advice… I think you’d look better if you cut your hair short. Like you did as a teenager, that bob cut. It would work better with that fluffy scarf.”
“It’s called a stole. Anyway, I like my hair long.” She twisted her head sideways into profile, trying to picture what Mabel was suggesting. “Although in this dress, maybe not a terrible idea.”
“Exactly, then you can have short hair while Dipper has long hair. What a twist that would be!”
“Ok, now you’ve put me off the idea. We can trade style ideas later.” She peered into the mirror, trying to see past her reflection. She examined the edges of the glass, running her hands along the frame, wondering if she’d find some kind of switch.
“Here, try this.” Mabel passed her the crystal.
When Pacifica held it up to the mirror the picture started to flex, like holding a magnet up to an old tv. She took a step back, trying to take in the whole mirror. “There’s something here we need to draw out. It’s fogged up.” Lacking a cloth to clean the dirty glass, she reluctantly removed her stole and used it to wipe down the surface. “Do you know any spells to tease out ghosts? I can’t remember if Mason knows any incantations general enough.”
Mabel was already silently mouthing something, her palms pressed together with one up and the other down. She exhaled like she was blowing out a candle, and purple sparkles flew towards the glass. The mirror shook, dislodging the dust and leaving a clearer image of the two women. Then, between them, coming into focus, the outline of a third.
Pacifica leaned forwards to study the woman’s details. Her clothes were the immediate point of interest. Her fashion was from the turn of the last century: White shirt-sleeves and a neatly pressed waistcoat, with a gold chain for a fobwatch. Long skirt and riding boots. A wide brimmed boater sat at a jaunty angle on her head. She looked like a dashing heroine out of serialised adventure fiction. Pacifica examined the ghost’s face, trying to discern her identity. She had black hair, not like any she knew from her family’s lineage, who skewed towards lighter hues. It wasn’t another Corduroy ghost.
Then she noticed that the ghost’s lips were moving. “She’s trying to say something!” Pacifica strained to hear, but there was nothing.
“It’s a mirror,” Mabel said bluntly. “It only reflects light, not sound.”
“Surely it can’t be that simple. Maybe it’s because the mirror is so big.” Pacifica pressed her ear to the glass and could feel a slight vibration. “The sound waves are spread over the whole surface, we can’t get a clear signal. Is that how it works?”
“It’s how this one works.” Mabel shrugged, before her hands jumped into a flurry of movement. The ghost similarly began making shapes with her hands. Mabel made several symbols with her hands, too fast for Pacifica to track. She thought they were more spells at first, before realisation dawned.
“You know sign language?” Pacifica asked.
Mabel nodded and stuck out her tongue, lost in thought. “A bit. I’m not fluent, but I can say hello. And ask where the nearest bathroom is.”
“Great, real helpful, especially in this building, as we’ve established. What is our resident mirror prisoner trying to convey?”
“Not entirely sure. She keeps repeating a phrase. Something about wind and maybe a bird, then she says ‘trapped’.” Pacifica watched the woman stick two fingers against her throat while her lips contorted into a snarl. Mabel said, “Yeah, hard to misread that one.”
“Wouldn’t lip-reading be easier?”
Mabel patted her satchel guiltily. “I might have forgotten to bring my glasses. I didn’t want to look like a nerd in front of a bunch of strangers. I’ve been getting by ok, though everything looks more or less like a big smurge, this ghost lady included.” Pacifica stared at her, astonished that someone could forget something so important. “Oh yeah, and what’s your excuse?”
Sheepishly, Pacifica scratched her neck. “I… can’t lip-read. Terrible at it, in fact.”
“Typical,” Mabel said, glad that they were equally inept. “Hey, do you remember the wi-fi password for this place? I could load up more words on my phone.”
“I’ve got a better idea.” Pacifica stood close to the mirror and exhaled onto it. The glass steamed up, and Pacifica traced letters with a finger. The words ‘we’re here to help’ were left as an impression on the mirror. “She might have to read backwards, but that should be easier.”
The ghost nodded, aware of the message. In the foggy space below Pacifica’s message more letters began to form out of nowhere, without the ghost even moving her fingers. ‘ǫniwʞɔɒlᙠ ɘlɒǫidA mɒ I’
Mabel read the words aloud. “‘I am Abigale Blackwing’. Oh, gale, wind, I get it. Who is she?” She looked to Pacifica, as if she had all the answers. But she was straining her memory without much luck.
“I think… Abby Northwest. That name does-”
“Ring a bell? Oh, sorry, sore subject.”
“Stop walking on eggshells, May, for Christ's sake. I don’t care. I was trying to say I think I’ve seen that name before, in the family history books.”
“Your family has their own history books? Man, if I thought you were old money before… What relation is she to you? Grandma? Second cousin twice removed? Grauntie?”
“What?”
“Great aunt.”
Pacifica scowled. “No. I mean, I don’t know. I’ll have to check.” Another sentence was forming on the mirror, one letter at a time. Pacifica wanted the words to hurry up, to finish this. “Come on, write faster. We don’t know how long you can manifest for.” In the end only one word was written on the glass.
ɿɘƚƚɒʜƨ
“Oh, simple as that? No problem.” Mabel lifted a hammer out of her satchel and raised it above her head.
“Wait!” Pacifica stood before her, blocking out the reflection of the ghost. “This is a bad idea. What if she’s dangerous?”
“What if she isn’t?”
“Oh, that’s just childish. We could be unleashing something that could threaten the whole town for all we know.”
Mabel weighed the hammer in her hand. “She’s not done anyone any harm so far. She’s clearly not connected to Dipper’s bubbles either, he got it wrong. Sometimes you have to just go with your gut, do what feels right.”
“But what if she was trapped for a reason?”
“Do you believe that? In this place?”
Pacifica looked at the parlour, in all its untouched splendour. She remembered the last being that had haunted the occupants of this manor, the injustice that had been allowed to prevail for over a century. The ghostly apparition in the glass stared at her, pleading silently and mouthing what looked like a word. Pacifica might not be good at lip-reading, but it was impossible not to tell what she meant. ‘Please’. Pacifica closed her eyes and touched her friend’s arm. “Ok. Smash the fucking thing.”
“With pleasure.” Mable reeled back her arms and hit the mirror with a two handed strike. Pacifica winced at the sound of smashing glass, and stepped back in fright as shards rained down around her feet. For a second she saw images of the ghostly woman refracted through multiple shards, before they faded away and a blue, luminous swirl coalesced against the wall where the mirror had once been. The room began to violently shake, and Pacifica clamped her hands on a nearby chaise longue. Mabel wasn’t so lucky, teetering onto her backside and staring up and the gathering energy. There was a crackle like thunder, before the smoky eminence flared upwards and beyond the roof.
The sudden temperature drop nearly took Pacifica off her feet to join her companion. The life had been sucked out of the place. Her breath misting in front of her, she said, “It’s done. She’s gone.”
Caught up in her dress, Mabel flailed and rolled over onto her front. She pushed her curly hair out of her eyes. “Whoopee! We did it! I guess! Yeah! Adventure Gals!”
“We’re not called that,” Pacifica said, her attention elsewhere.
“Well I’m Mystery Twins with Dipper, we need our own name.”
Pacifica stared at her, frowning. “No. No we do not.”
Mabel craned her neck, failing to manage to look directly upwards. “Where’d she go? Ghost lady, Blackwing?”
Pacifica didn’t know. But it felt like something right had taken place. A release, another exorcism of this blasted place. She took off her stole and used it to safely pick up a piece of the broken mirror. She studied her reflection in the glass, now on its own. “Abigale,” she said to herself. “I’ll find out who you were. I promise.”
“Well that was hardly blood pouring out of the walls or mounted heads accusing me of irredeemable murder.”
“Let’s call that progress in your mental health journey.”
They’d returned to the ballroom. Gina’s associates had gathered in their absence, and there was a lively atmosphere of conversation. Lots of drinking as well, of a very expensive vintage that Pacifica wasn’t going to pass up trying for free. Of Gina herself, there was no sign. One of the guests had informed them she was tied up with the caterers, nitpicking some detail of the main course that was about ready for serving.
Mabel, still starving, was tapping her foot. “I can’t believe we solved a whole ghost mystery - one on the easier side, to be fair - and they still haven’t even brought out the main buffet. Rip off.”
Pacifica only half-listened to her friend, scanning the crowd to see if there was anyone she recognised. So far so good, but she was on-guard for any of them to come over and try small-talk with her. “It’s crazy to think that if it wasn’t for Mason’s scan no-one might have ever known about the ghost. She’d still be framed there, up on the wall, for all time.”
Mabel nodded, but her heart wasn’t in it. “Mind-blowing, sure. Now that it’s over I wanna unwind. This is a party, for crying out loud, I don’t wanna be so gloomy.”
“We really should do it again sometime. The social event thing more than the ghost hunt. Though maybe not in the place I learned to walk. “
“I dunno, it’s also the place where you learned to be yourself. For good or bad, it shaped you into the Pacifica you are today.”
Pacifica indulged her friend with a smile. “That’s a nice sentiment, but I’ve literally spent more than half my life not living in this dump. I think I became myself in the 18 years since we moved out. Mabel, before we go, I want to say that I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate you. I tried to bury you away where no-one could see.”
“Aw, that’s ok Paz. I get that you were worried about presentation. Here of all places.”
“It was jealousy, I think. I put in all this effort to look gorgeous and stunning, and then you roll up on your Harley like it’s nothing.”
Mabel raised a single eyebrow. “You, jealous of the way I look? Today really is bizarro day.” She saw that Pacifica was still unsettled, so added, “Hey, it still took work for me as well. You’re not the only one who has to take ages to look this good. Try and remember that next time you feel crummy in comparison, ok?” Mabel pursed her lips and made a sexy pose. It left Pacifica blushing, which didn’t go unnoticed. “If you’re feeling weird about it then don’t worry. Like I said, rich snobs aren’t my type, so that excludes you too.”
Pacifica stammered, “What, no, I didn’t mean it like that- I’m not-.”
“Aw, baby’s first bi panic. You love to see it.” Pacifica was mortified until Mabel realised she’d touched a nerve. “I’m kidding. Geez, you need to learn how to relax.”
Trying to move on from the embarrassment, Pacifica eyed the main doors with a look like she was being hunted. “Perhaps I should head out now. I’ve taken up more than enough of our host’s goodwill-”
“Maybe you should talk to Gina first,” Mabel said, cutting off her friend’s excuses. “You keep acting like she’s the worst of the worst, a gateway drug into your parents’ lifestyle. She’s probably as confused about meeting up again as you are. She might, just might, want to be friends again. That’s some value you can find, I’m sure.”
“Speak of the devil.” Pacifica downed her glass as Gina strode into the room.
Her manner was unruffled, head held high. “False alarm, people, everything is sorted. Dinner will be served in five.”
She quickly noticed Pacifica’s return and homed in on her. She once again didn’t even seem to be aware of Mabel, but the other girl didn’t mind. She patted Pacifica gently in the back and wandered off. If she was attending this fancy do she might as well flirt with some of the rich folks. Who knew, it might pay off down the line, especially if she could persuade them to visit her store.
When Gina arrived in front of Pacifica, she was sweating slightly. A little less refined than her big entrance might have implied. “Darling, you’re back. So, everything dealt with behind closed doors?”
“You bet,” Pacifica drawled, wanting nothing more than to end the paranormal conversation and stick to the personal. She flicked her hair to the side like the topic was beneath her. “It wasn’t all it was hyped up to be. Everything going alright down here?”
“Oh, you know. High society - the extravagance is outstanding, and the company is pleasantly delightful once we’re all mildly tipsy. Ha! Though I must be honest, it is nice to see old friends from elsewhere. They get a taste of Gravity Falls in the bargain, a chance to see how us girls rough it out.” She winked and laid a fake punch on Pacifica’s arm.
Pacifica matched Gina’s smile, but her words were more serious. “Gina, can we talk for a moment or two?”
“Oh, of course.” Gina’s eyes darted to the left and right as Pacifica led them away from the main crowd,
One isolated, Pacifica didn’t feel the need to mince words. She spoke as simply as she could, no honeyed words or double-speak. “If you want me to leave, you only have to say so. I understand.”
“What do you mean, dear?” Gina seemed at a loss for words. “Leave, why would you do that? The party’s only beginning.”
“I get it, alright. You don’t want me messing up your new life here in the Falls. The ghost thing, that was a good excuse.”
“Excuse? No, no it wasn’t that, I swear. I wanted you here, it was just… I didn’t know how to talk to you. I needed a bit of space, that’s all. And I didn’t know what people would think.” She whispered, “You’re the one they all talk about, the… ‘the bitch who fell from grace’.” Imagine the gossip!”
Now Pacifica did feel like raising her voice. “So give me a pointless quest to get rid of me instead? Is that how it is?”
“No! I- I didn’t want you to have to face it. I was shielding you. I thought you weren’t that same old teenager who I remembered terrorising everyone at school, who always had to be queen bee.” Gina looked genuinely exasperated, and for a second Pacifica didn’t know how to react to such a pure emotion. “I thought you’d… changed.”
Pacifica blinked, realising that her tone had been way off. She’d misread the situation. Time to start again. “Gina, I want to apologise. I’ve entirely neglected my responsibilities as your guest.” The sudden swerve seemed to confuse Gina even more, but Pacifica carried on. “In fact I’ve been a frigid bitch.”
In a move Pacifica found priceless, Gina’s jaw dropped open. “Whuh? But I-”
“I’ve been acting all weird and reserved, treating you like a symptom of this place.” She sneered and gestured at the grand hall, though Gina didn’t quite understand. “None of that was your fault. We were all just too young to break out of the expected patterns. So let’s start fresh. Because I think it would be nice to be friends. The kind that don’t have to put on a performance.”
Gina pursed her lips. “Oh. Well that’s… I don’t quite…” She searched for a glass of champagne. “This is more direct than I was expecting. I knew all about your family’s fall from grace of course, but none of us ever knew the details. Tiffany and I felt like it wasn’t something we were permitted to discuss. Then you drifted away, hanging out with a different sort of people.” Pacifica could hear the disdain coming from that description. But it was instilled, something Gina said automatically and seemed ashamed of afterwards. “I didn’t think you wanted me in your life anymore.”
“I didn’t, that’s true.” Pacifica said it unreservedly. There was no point sugar-coating it. “You were a reminder of my old self, the me that followed my parents’ every command. I always thought you only hung out with me because of the money anyway.”
“It did sometimes feel like I was under your shadow. Or, that there was this halo around you. That by getting close some of that golden light could, I don’t know, rub off on me. All this,” she waved at the opulent surroundings, “was my attempt to emulate that stuff. To embrace the finer things.”
Pacifica had a sneaking sense of pride, before squashing the emotion. “And isn’t it just suffocating?”
“God yes.” Gina laughed guiltily, then something snapped and the two women were giggling uncontrollably. Heads turned to watch in confusion, which only made their laughter louder. Gina covered her mouth. “I can’t believe this. What would Brett think?”
“Hey, forget about all that.” Pacifica put her arms around her old friend and hugged her tightly. “The only person who should care is you. Don’t let anyone else’s opinions cloud your thoughts.” For the first time all evening Pacifica didn’t regret coming. Not even a little bit.
“Pacifica, are you crying?” Gina asked.
“Yes,” she said, choking with laughter and wiping her cheeks. She broke the hug and smiled. “It’s a good thing, trust me. I’d better go, to be honest. Much as I’d love to chat, I think I have had about enough as I can take of getting reminded about my shitty childhood. It’s just getting old at this point. I’d prefer you to know the real me, Gina, not just the vapid caricature my parents tried to mold me into. I am so much more than that. I have a family that I am so proud of even if I don’t know what I’m doing half the time. I'm an adventurer. I’ve been all around the world and into other dimensions! I’ve been an architect, an author.”
“Oh yeah, I saw one of your books once.” Gina was excited, before blushing. “I was too scared to read it.”
“Don’t worry, you’re not in them. But I really must be going. That tall guy in the tux over by the ice sculpture looks like he’s about to try his luck asking me about the stock market.” Gina laughed. “I can’t be held liable for what might be the result of that.”
“I believe that. Well, text me, anyway. It’d be nice to talk again, somewhere quieter. You can bring your husband; Mason is it? We can talk about the real you.”
“That’d be lovely. Really, it would. Now where has Merrise got to?”
“Oh, that’s easy.” Gina nodded towards the side of the hall with a knowing grin. Two kids were chasing one another, stumbling over their cumbersome dresses. “She’s been quite an influence.”
Bewildered, Pacifica followed the two girls out of the hall. They were engaged in some kind of game involving dragons and knights. She was astonished when she found Merrise, sitting on the floor of the drawing room with a paper map spread out in front of her covered in shiny dice. A circle of eager listeners surrounded her, leaning forwards as if hypnotised.
“You enter the dark forest and come upon a babbling brook. It speaks fluent English. Do you dare cross? Roll a 12 for initiative. Oh, hi Mom.”
“What in the world-”
“Shh.” One of the girls was hanging on Merrise’s every word and even the intrusion of an adult couldn’t break the reverie.
Gina came in, immediately spotting her daughter. “Amber, I’m afraid your new friend has to leave now.” There was a chorus of disappointment from all the girls as Merrise picked herself up.
“Remember, message me, we can pick up where we left off on video call!” She said a quick goodbye to Amber, who was as won over as the rest of the girls. They exchanged promises to meet up when Amber started school in a few days, and then Merrise ran to her mother’s side. “You look happy. Did something happen?”
Pacifica hadn’t realised her mood change was that visible. “No, and yes.”
Merrise narrowed her eyes. “That’s very clear.” She shook her head, clearly considering it ‘adult stuff’ and not worth asking further about. “You ready to leave?” Merrise took her mother’s hand, which Pacifica gave a small squeeze to thank her for the implication of support.
“Yes, though I’ll let May know first.”
A wave of goodbyes followed them out of the drawing room, with the chaotic sound of children playing fantasy stories remaining. Probably the first time any kids had laughed in this house… ever, Pacifica thought.
Gina strolled with them back to her domain as party host. After all this time she finally perceived Mabel, amidst a trio of partygoers. Pacifica could just hear her conversation drifting over. “Then I said, ‘he’s not a hyper-coyote, he's a were-coyote’! You should have seen Paz’s face. No? Maybe you had to be there.”
Gina studied the interaction closely. “She’s part of your family too? You must introduce me.”
“I wouldn’t try it,” Pacifica said, amusing herself. “Not if you want to keep your marriage with Brett intact.”
“But I thought she was already… the wedding ring.”
“That won’t stop Mabel Pines.” Catching Gina off-guard, Pacifica yelled at the top of her voice, cutting through the crowd. “Hey, May, we’re going now!” Mabel, the only one not surprised by Pacifica’s shout, held up an ok symbol. “That’s goodbyes done with. Catch you later, Gina.” Pacifica left her reconciled friend in a state of mild confusion as they parted for the night. Always leave them hanging, she supposed.
As they exited into the warm night, Merrise took a look back at the party. “Are you sure you don’t wanna stick around?”
Pacifica stared up at the manor’s steeples. A blue light was swirling away into the sky high above, banishing the darkness that clung to the steeples. “No thanks. I’ve exorcised my last ghost here.” With that she stood tall and proud, and left the manor for the final time.
