“So, what do you think?” Gretchen says when we get to the other bedroom. She's been selling this house like her life depends on it, poor thing.
“It's just what we're looking for. Do you mind giving us a little time?”
“Absolutely!” she chirps like a bird. Anything to make us happy. God, if we ask her to make us pancakes, she probably would find a frying pan.
She clomps back down the stairs in her ridiculous heels.
“Ava, you want to come see the backyard with me?” Dad says, nodding to the stairs. He wants to give her some time alone. Message received.
“Sure. You okay?” I ask Mom.
She's staring out the window at memories I can't touch.
“Yes, I'm fine. I'll be right down.”
I follow Dad down the stairs. Gretchen's out by her car talking vigorously on her cell phone.
“Let's sneak around the back,” Dad says in my ear. I nod and we tiptoe out the back by the kitchen. Luckily, there is a back door with steps that lead down into the grass. I take the bottom step and Dad takes the top.
“I wish I could buy it for her. I know that seems silly, but I'd love for her to own this house.”
“I know. How much are they asking?”
“Way too much in this economy. We're going to be strapped enough as it is.” He wipes his face with his hands.
“You know you can talk to me about that stuff. I know I'm young and your daughter and you want to protect me and all, but I don't want you to have to do this alone.” He looks up from his hands. He stares at me for a couple seconds before he says anything. “You are growing up so fast.” I move backward up the steps until I'm next to him. He puts his arm around me and I lay my head on his shoulder. “Thank you. Sometimes I forget you're not a child anymore. You're almost a woman.” Almost. Not quite.
“What are you doing out here?” Mom's voice drifts out of the open doorway. I move down a step so she can take my place next to Dad. “You two are the best family ever. How did I get so lucky?” She kisses Dad and throws her arms around my neck. The grass in the overgrown backyard sways in the breeze and we stay like that for a few minutes.
“Come on, I want to go see if the tire swing is still good.” Mom steps around me.
“Claire, are you sure? The tree's probably dead and rotting.” Mom skips head, and if I squint, I can see her as a little girl.
I dash behind her, racing to the swing. It hangs from a huge oak tree that has stood here for a very long time.
“See? It's still alive.” The rope on the tire is gray, but I give it a test and it seems okay. I hop on and do a few practice swings.
“Be careful,” Dad says, standing close to us as if he's going to stop the swing from breaking. Honestly, if this thing is going to break, first, I'm not going that far. Second, Peter will swoop in if my life was really in danger. He'd have some major explaining to do, but at least I'd be safe. Peter will never let anything happen to me. Well, he'll never let me be injured by a rogue tire swing.
“I used to come out here and Daddy would push me.” Mom never talks about her father. He died when she was ten, so she doesn't remember much about him. Her mother never remarried, so it was just the two of them for the rest of her life.
“I can't believe it's still here,” she says, pushing the swing and staring at the house.
“I wanted to hand you the keys, but it's not really in the budget right now.”
“Sam, don't be silly. What would I do with a house? We have a house.”
He shrugs and leans against the tree. “I know. I still thought about it.”
“It's enough just seeing it one last time. This is all I need.” The tire spins drunkenly and she pushes me harder. I wish Peter was here so he could twist the rope around and then let it go so I could spin into oblivion. I could use a little oblivion.
“I wish you could have known her better, Ava-Claire. You're so much like her.”
“Did she have caustic wit as well?”
“Actually, yes.”
I don't remember much about my grandmother. Most of the memories are of her in a nursing home. She never remembered my name.
We stay in the backyard for as long as we can without Gretchen getting suspicious. We take one last walk through the house, and I get out my phone to take some pictures when Gretchen's back is turned.
For someone who's supposed to be observant, she's really not. Nearly anyone else would be able to see that we aren’t going to buy the house, but she starts talking to Dad about paperwork, loan rates and other bank-related things. Little does she know, she's talking to a loan officer. He pretends to be interested, but when push comes to shove, he says we have to think about it.
“Mom,” I say, as we're walking down the steps to leave, “sit down.” She does, exactly in the same spot as where she was in the picture we have in our house. I sit next to her and Dad takes pictures of the two of us.
“You look just like your mother,” Gretchen says. What an ass kisser, I think.
“She does, doesn't she?” Mom says, winking at me. “My girl.”
Twenty
Brooke
I spent every moment I could with Jamie. We hung out in his room, talked, kissed, and watched movies on his computer. We skipped rocks and I flew around him with my wings. I wanted him and I wanted his blood. Sometimes it was hard to decide what I wanted more. It wasn't like when I was with Ivan. That had been fast, hard and relentless. Jamie was soft, warm and sweet. He melted slowly on my tongue and left an aftertaste that I never wanted to forget.
Sunday afternoon we were lying on the giant stump in the middle of our little clearing. I'd come to think of it as our place. I was on my stomach and he was tracing shapes on my back.
“I still can't get over the fact that you don't have fangs.”
“Why?”
“Because you're not really a vampire without them.”
“I've told you already, that's a myth.”
“Well, for someone who is obsessed with blood, you haven't tied me to a tree and taken mine.”
“I'd want to tie you to a tree for different reasons.” I turned my face to see his reaction.
He grinned. “Well, you could. I just don't know why you don't. Why I'm so special?”
“You get me, Jamie. I don't know how, but we're the same. Even though you're human and I'm not.” He turned over and scooted off the stump.
“I should get home. Cassie's working on the baby's room today and I said I'd help.”
That was the one thing about Jamie that separated him from me, in addition to the human, nonhuman thing. His heart was made of pure gold. Mine wasn’t.