Accidental Sire(81)

"Look at you, being a joiner," Libby said, sidling up to me at the sink as I was washing dishes before dinner.

"Yeah, it's nice," I said, smiling. "You know, I don't think I've ever been in a group of people this large where I actually knew and liked most of them? I mean, even when my mom was still alive-" I took a quick breath and tried not to let my voice suddenly go quiet and sad. "When my mom was alive, holidays were still pretty small. When my grandparents were with us, it was the four of us, with a pretty small turkey and chuchitos, because my Guatemalan grandpa insisted that Anglo people food was too bland. And when it was just me and my mom, sometimes we scarfed down a turkey sandwich before she ran in to do a holiday shift. Anyway, I don't think I've ever been to a holiday meal this loud before. And they're not even watching football in there; they're just talking. I've never met people who liked to talk so much."

"And if you let them, I bet they'll talk to you."

"I'm working on it." I laughed. "I even talked to Collin earlier about Dickens versus Fielding, and he looked like it physically hurt to have a conversation with me."

"Yeah, Collin's got some issues with people and proximity," Libby said, picking up a towel and drying the dishes I'd just rinsed. "It's nothing personal. He's just trying not to see your future."

"Oh, sure. That makes sense," I said, pursing my lips. "Speaking of proximity, did you bathe your kid in garlic?"

"Well, I don't want to hurt your feelings, but you're a new vampire, and you're under a lot of stress . . . and yes, I bathed my son in minced garlic. I put it in his shampoo. I had to roll down the car windows on the way over here. But this is what you do when you're a parent. You lose your mind, just a little bit."

"You're insane," I told her. 

"But I did it because I care, so it shouldn't be counted against me."

"I don't think that's how that works."

Libby cleared her throat. "I know that sometimes it's easier to just take care of everything yourself, to close in, protect yourself. But eventually, that's not enough. You're not enough. You need other people."

"Needing people is hard," I told her.

"Yeah, and it occasionally blows up in your face. You lose friends, lose relationships, get your feelings hurt. But other times it's pretty freaking awesome."

"I know," I said. And then I made a lot of ugly crying faces as my eyes burned with unshed tears. "It's really . . . I love those weirdos in there." I gestured toward the dining room. "Like way more than I ever thought I could, and it's great, and it makes me feel all light and happy inside, like I've swallowed the freaking sun. Which is super-weird, considering that I'm basically a creature of darkness now. But . . ."

"But what, hon?"

"Is it weird that I still miss my mom?" I asked.

"No," Libby assured me. "I had a crap relationship with my mom, and I still miss her. You two were really close, right?"

I nodded. "When I was on my own, I used to try to imagine how different my life would be if she had lived. I mean, it wouldn't have been a fairy tale. We would have lived in a tiny two-bedroom apartment, and our car would have been at least ten years old-before we got it. But we would have been together. And I would have had somebody to take pictures of me when I was getting ready for graduation or prom. I probably would have gone to prom, which would have been very different from spending the evening working at Taco Bell. Anyway, that was what I thought about when I felt really sorry for myself. And now there are times I feel so guilty for not wanting it as much anymore."

"Aw, Meagan," she said. "That's normal. That's what's supposed to happen. This is totally normal."

"Really?"

"Of course."

Suddenly, I heard a commotion by the front door. I heard Ben's voice, raised, and I bolted toward the living room at a speed that left me sick to my stomach. Two people I didn't recognize were moving toward Ben, who was standing stock-still with his hands clenched at his sides. I skidded to a stop between Ben and the middle-aged couple standing in Jane's foyer, leaving two deep burn marks in Jane's hardwood floors.

Jane grimaced. "Honey, we've talked about hard braking on the parquet."

The couple at the door took two steps back, clearly frightened by the sudden appearance of a vampire. They were human. I could hear their heartbeats hammering in their chests. And I could smell the turmoil rolling off them in a stinky emotional potpourri-hope, anxiety, fear, uncertainty. I'd never smelled such fragrant humans. Humans that smelled a little like Ben.

I stared closer at the couple. The woman had Ben's green eyes, though they were bracketed by worry lines. The man had Ben's mouth and his straight nose. These were Ben's parents. Jane had clearly invited them as some sort of holiday surprise. Which meant I was crossing quite a few boundaries.