I turned in his arms and laced my hands around his neck again. "Maybe I'm just freaking out on the inside."
He chuckled and gave me a soft kiss, then he seemed to remember something. "Oh hey, I talked to my parents today-they're really looking forward to meeting you. They want us to come up this weekend."
My face went blank...and surely pale white. "Now I'm freaking out."
He kissed my nose. "You'll be fine. It will be fun, I promise. You should have heard how excited they were-"
I cocked an eyebrow as I cut him off. "Excited our son is bringing home a girl, or excited we're having a tasty snack delivered?"
He twisted his lips at me in obvious displeasure. "My family is not going to eat you. That would be pretty rude."
"Right...well, why are they so excited to meet me then?"
He paused for an inordinately long amount of time...that worried me some. "I've never brought a girl home before," he finally said with a warm expression. Even though his soft smile was genuine, I couldn't help but think that there was more to the story. "So, what do you think? This weekend?"
"Sure...why not." If I'm going to be an Adams family snack...might as well get it over with.
Releasing me, he finished making our Chicken Fettuccini Alfredo dinner, handing a forkful of sauce-coated chicken to me to test, and tossing a bare chunk of chicken down to Spike, who thumped his tail on the floor appreciatively. As we sat down at his candlelit formal table with our meal and a glass of chilled wine, I forgot all about the upcoming weekend and raptured in the flawless food. For a man who only ate because he chose to, boy could he cook!
He offered me a nightcap at the end of dinner but I politely declined. It was getting pretty late and I did have to work tomorrow. He walked me to my car and gave me a final hug and a kiss at my car door. I narrowed my eyes, intensely studying his. It was late and very dark outside, but we were close to a streetlamp and we were bathed in the amber light. Since I was looking for it, I noticed the faint glow of the whites of his eyes, but a person not expecting it, really wouldn't notice it at all.
He slowly shook his head at me and my fascination. "Do you want to do something tomorrow night?"
"Sorry, can't. I'm having dinner with Mom and Ash. Rain check?"
"I have an editor's meeting Wednesday night, but can you come by Thursday for dinner? We can work out the details for Friday night." I frowned and he laughed as he gently pushed me into my seat. "It will be fine. Promise." He cocked his head at me as he leaned against my open door. "When do I get to meet your family?"
I sighed. "Let's just get your family out of the way first...then we'll talk."
Smiling, he nodded, then leaned in to give me a final, final kiss before he closed my door. I watched him in my rearview mirror as I pulled away. It was a bit startling that I could see his reflection-that particular myth must not be true then. Of course, my vampire didn't seem to conform to any of the traditional vampire lore. What a rebel he was. He waved at me with one hand, the other casually stuffed into the pocket of his slacks, and I smiled at my tall, dark and pointy-teethed boyfriend.
I walked into my gray on gray cubicle the next morning and smiled at the arrangement of calla lilies still on my desk. I sat down at my ergonomically correct chair, opened the bottom drawer of my desk, and stuffed my heavy purse inside. I had to shove and rearrange the purse a couple times to be able to close the drawer all the way. Apparently, I was becoming a bit of a pack rat. I'd have to dig through the purse soon and toss out all the old receipts, empty packages of gum, out of style lipsticks and semi-melted tubes of chapstick, that were collecting in there.
I adjusted a picture of my mother and sister next to my computer and wondered if I should bring in a photo of Teren. That would dispel the myth that he was trying to woo me away for work, if Clarice ever figured out who the man in the picture was, but it would be nice to look at his handsome face while I went about my day.
I flicked my computer on and opened my emails. I just about shut my computer back off. There were thirty-six emails requesting old P&L statements that I'd have to dig through piles and piles of paperwork to find. And each email had the dreaded red flag of urgency. Well, of course, everyone believed their problem was the most urgent thing in the world. Sighing, I started writing down the information that I would need.
Tracey walked up to my "home away from home" and leaned against one of the walls. She looked blissfully happy, a peaceful smile on her peach stained lips, and I was pretty sure why. "So, did you get a date with Ben?"
"Of course!" She shook her blonde head, like it was a ridiculous concept that she wouldn't.
I smiled and shook my head at her, in awe that she felt completely comfortable hitting on someone, while dripping with sweat. Personally, there was only one way I wanted a cute guy I liked to see me all sweaty, and by that point, I usually knew him pretty well. Usually-there might have been some poor decisions made in college.
"We're going on a date Friday," she finished.
"That's great!"
She told me all about the fancy restaurant they were going to, and the club she wanted him to take her to afterwards. When her story dwindled down, I told her my plans for the weekend. "Teren is taking me up to his parents' place for the weekend."
"Already? That's fast, he must really like you." Her blue eyes sparkled at me with genuine happiness for my relationship that was going quite smoothly, and as she had correctly pointed out, was starting to definitely pick up speed.
"Yeah, I think he's been bitten by something." My lips curled a little at the corners over my dumb vampire reference that Tracey didn't get at all.
"And you? What do you think of him?" She walked over to my flowers and smelled one, her blonde hair leaning forward with her and brushing against the lengthy stems.
My smile widened. "He's like no one else I've ever met." Quite literally.
She straightened and pulled her hair back behind her shoulders. "Are you heading to the gym tonight?"
"No, I'm having dinner with Mom and Ash."
She nodded. "Oh that's right...Tuesday." She put a slim hand over her heart. "Give Ash a great big hug and a kiss for me. I miss that girl."
"I will."
I smiled as I continued on with my tedious task, and Tracey disappeared behind her adjoining wall. My smile faded after an hour, and by lunchtime, I was craving a pick-me-up. I skipped out and rushed to get my coffee treat-making sure I didn't dump it on any potential bloodsuckers this time. Then I settled back into my monotonous work in the records room-finding files, copying them and then replacing them-all with my caffeinated secret weapon tight in hand. Even though by five o'clock, the very backs of my eyes ached, I still managed to get every single piece of paper sent out that was requested of me from my urgent email list by quitting time. I was quite pleased with my productivity as I strolled out the front doors.
I smiled as I walked into the quaint cafe that was Ashley's favorite place to eat. She always ordered the butternut squash ravioli, no matter what time of year it was, and the staff always added extra gorgonzola crumbles on the top, just for her. They sort of loved her here, which is really the reason why we came here so often. My sister tended to attract attention...and not the good kind.
The hostess greeted me and motioned to a table in the back, where we preferred to sit. I nodded thanks to her and started walking in that direction. The cafe was quiet tonight and soothing contemporary jazz played over the sound system. The tables were all set up with a small vase of wild flowers, and the hand painted lamps, lightly swinging above each table, lit the area with a soft glow. It was a cozy, comforting place.
I approached a table where a woman with chin-length, graying brown hair, was sitting with her back to me. She was plump in the I don't care, I'm going to fully enjoy this life I was given sort of way, and she had a deep, earthy laugh that echoed down the aisle to me. She was laughing with a woman who was facing me. A woman who had the most horrific face you could image. A woman I deeply loved.
The woman stood as I came up to the table. Half of her head and half of her face were covered in a thick patchwork of scars. The side of her head that could still grow hair was a deep brown that bounced in the exact same way that mine did.
"Hey, sis," she said, as she hugged me warmly.
"Hey, Ash." I hugged her right back, ignoring the imperfectness of her face. It was irrelevant anyway-her beauty was her heart. It always had been, it always would be.
She sat back down stiffly; some of the scarring over her joints made some movements a little difficult for her. Scooting over, she patted the seat so I would sit beside her. I giggled and snuggled into her side. My sister had been horribly burned when she was nine years old, in a house fire that had claimed the life of our father. My mother had gotten out of the house safely, but Dad had rushed back in to save Ashley; it was the last thing he ever did. I was at a friend's house that night and had missed the whole disaster. I was equally regretful and grateful for that. But that was ten years, and for Ashley, several surgeries ago.
Her body was a variegated mix of layer-upon-layer of discernable scarring. It covered over two thirds of her, but that didn't dampen her spirit. She took the teasing and ridicule she received from the uneducated idiots we often encountered, with grace and aplomb. She was my best friend. She was my hero.
Her light brown eyes sparkled at me playfully as she grabbed my arm. "So, how's the boy?"
I playfully nudged her back. "The man is wonderful."
My mother across from the table from us laughed. "When do we get to meet this mystery man?"
I smiled at my mom as I held Ashley's hand. My mother had never remarried, in fact she still wore her wedding ring-to chase away the would-be suitors, she said. Whenever I hinted about her dating again (she was only fifty-two after all), she would sniff and say that she had a husband and he was waiting for her in Heaven. I would always sigh at that and let it go. You can't make someone do something they don't want to do. But she was a vibrant, happy woman. Her face had deep laugh lines around her eyes and the corners of her lips. She was quick to smile and even quicker to laugh.
I chuckled at my mother's question. "That's kind of funny. Just yesterday, he asked when he'd get to meet you."
She leaned in, her expression curious. "And you said...?"
"All in due time."
We ordered our "usual" from the waitress, Debby, who lounged at our table for a few moments, chatting away, catching us up on her life-funny stories about her kids, a fight she'd had with her husband, a horrible weekend at the in-laws, which was the precursor to the aforementioned fight. We came to this cafe weekly. It was our way to stay together as a family and fill each other in on the aspects of our busy, daily lives. We'd been coming here for over five years now, and most of the staff was the same as our first night here. It sort of became a way for us to be filled in on their lives too.
After a few moments of friendly chit-chat, Debby left to get our drinks and place our orders. Our food arrived only moments later; the cook was well aware that we were here, and what we were going to order. Debby talked with us a few minutes longer while she set down Ashley's ravioli, my smoked ham Panini and Mom's raspberry-stuffed French toast. Then she moseyed on to other customers and we ate our meal and talked about what had happened during our week.