"No, I mean it. I don't think eyebrow piercings and spidertatts will go with your Donna Karan blouses."
"You're right. I'll just be me-plain old boring me," my mother said, folding her arms.
"You are far from boring."
"I guess I just wanted you to think your mom was cool."
"You're not supposed to be cool to me. You're my mom. Do you think Grandma is cool?"
"I see your point. I didn't do too bad a job raising you after all, did I?"
"Well, if you must know, you could raise my allowance."
It was a moment I was excited about and dreaded at the same time.My parents visiting the Mansion. What would they say? What would they do? How would they respond tobloodred smoothies?
My dad inched his SUV up the Mansion's drive. Fog hovered over the bushes and candles flickered inside the Mansion.
"It looks haunted," my mom mumbled to my father. "I know why you like coming here," she said to me. "It's very... mysterious."
"I'm anxious to see what it looks like inside. I feel very privileged. Like Charlie getting a chance to see the inside of the chocolate factory," my dad said.
"Promise me you both will behave. They have very different tastes. Please don't say anything rude," I said.
I walked up the uneven cracked front steps, my parents following close behind.
I knocked on the serpent knocker.
"That is quite... unusual," my mom remarked.
"Shhh!"I said. "You promised."
The oak door squeaked open and Jameson appeared in the entrance,
"Welcome, Miss Raven, and Mr. and Mrs. Madison. Shall I take your things?"
My mom immediately felt the chill in the air.
"Thank you, Jameson, but keep my sweater." She had it tied around her shoulders but loosened it and put it back on.
"TheSterlings will be down shortly. May I get you a drink while you wait?"
"No thank you," my mother said. "We can wait for theSterlings ."
"Why don't you have a seat in the parlor room? They will only be a moment." Jameson showed us in.
Candelabras and votives filled the Mansion. Skeleton lights were strung from the ceiling. Harpsichord music played loudlyThis time I expected to see aPhantom of the Opera-type musician banging out his melodies on a giant organ, but I found neither.
My father scanned the dusty books, and my mom fascinated herself with the vintage furniture.
"This is the home you've always wanted to live in," she said to me. "This must be a dream come true for you."
I appreciated my mother's moment of understanding.
I had a feeling that everything would be okay, though there was a teensy-weensy bit of my overactive imagination that wondered if my parents would be safe partying with two vampires on their home soil.
But when I saw Alexander enter the parlor, I knew that if there was a turn for the worse, he'd protect us from any harm.
My handsome Knight of Night came over to me and kissed me softly on the cheek. He shook my father's hand, and my mother gave him a gentle hug. He returned to me and took my hand. His hand felt strong in mine, and I squeezed it hard.
"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. May I get you something to drink?"
"No, we were just browsing. This room is charming. I can feel the history in its walls," my mom said.
"Yes, my grandmother was very proud of this mansion. That is why I'm so horrified..."
We all glanced at Alexander.
"...that some of the boards need repairing." Alexander's comment was odd. The whole house appeared to need repairing-well beyond a few floorboards.
We heard the lyrical Romanian accents of theSterlings as they entered.
"My apologies for our delay," Mrs. Sterling said, extending her hand to my mom, then my dad. She wore a lavender scarf around her neck. "I hope you haven't been waiting long."
"We just got here," my mom said. "The house is... beautiful."
"We were hoping you'd be longer so we could peek around the house," my dad blurted out.
"A tour?"Mr. Sterling asked. "I think that can be arranged. Where shall we start?"
"You'll forgive us if anything is out of order. We haven't totally settled in since we've been back," Mrs. Sterling said.
The house wasn't messy at all; in fact, everything was in its place. If anything, it was bare. Only what was needed was shown or on display. Now, dust andspiderwebs; that was a different story. There was a high volume of both.
"You've already seenConstantine 's favorite room," Mrs. Sterling said, gesturing back to the parlor as we continued on. "Did Jameson tell you? When someone passed away in the family the parlor was used to view the dead."
My dad was impressed. My mom was aghast.
"Fortunately, that doesn't happen very often in our family," she added cryptically.
"Who are the people in the hallway?" my dad asked.
"I didn't see any people," Mr. Sterling said. "Are you referring to ghosts?"
"No," my dad said with a chuckle."Lining the hallway."
We followed Mr. Sterling in the corridor. "These are portraits of our family."
"If you don't mind my saying... this guy bears a resemblance to Dracula."
"Dad!"
"No- I like your eye, Paul. We think so, too. The artist was watching too manyBela Lugosi movies when they sat down for that one."
"Alexander, would you mind going upstairs and taking over the tour? I hope I'm not being rude-I'd just like to make sure everything is in order," Mrs. Sterling said.
Order?What did that mean? What was Mrs. Sterling planning on serving us?
We followed Alexander up the red velvet stairs. The corridor was long, cold, and devoid of modern material possessions. "This is the library and these are bedrooms," Alexander explained.
My dad poked his head into the library while my mom checked out the bathroom. Antique fixtures adorned the massive room. I noticed her trying to find something.
"This is a quick tour," I said. "We're not moving in."
"I wanted to check my lipstick," she said. "But there's no mirror."
"Your makeup is fine."
"Wow- there are a lot of bedrooms," my dad said as he poked his head in each one.
"This is Jameson's room," Alexander said, showing us the butler's quarters, with its single bed and dresser, "And this is my parents'."
Mr. and Mrs. Sterling's door was slightly ajar. We could see a vanity dresser topped with assorted makeup and with a frame attached, missing its mirror. My mom peered in, brushing against the door. It opened to reveal the side of a coffin.