She felt incredibly silly when Charlie from downstairs, one of the three neighborhood lowlifes she’d believed had disappeared thanks to a bloodsucking vampire, showed up one evening in his usual classless manner, screaming at his wife and making loud, unintelligible excuses for his long absence. If Charlie wasn’t a vampire’s victim, odds were the other two were either in jail or had simply moved on to harass some other neighborhood.
Simon had removed her collection of vampire books from the end table in the main room and stored them on the bookshelf with other novels. She wasn’t sure why they bothered him but they did. Again, she didn’t care. Lately she hadn’t had any time for reading, in any case. Why escape into fiction when reality was so wonderful?
He kissed her neck frequently, but he didn’t bite. Much.
On Friday night, the club where Simon played reopened and he insisted on taking her with him. He didn’t have to insist very hard; she was anxious to go. She’d heard him play on his portable piano, and they’d listened to numerous recordings, but she wanted to see him on stage with a band, lost in the music she knew he loved.
And he did love it. At the small but crowded nightclub Claire sat at a small table near the raised stage. She sipped wine and watched as Simon and the other three musicians made beautiful, fast, and furious music. They all loved what they did, not just playing their instruments but creating this music. Simon’s face lit up when he performed. Claire had always known he had remarkable hands, but to see them fly over the piano keys and make such music, that was magic. It was a different kind of magic than that which her grandmother had told her about, but still, it was magic. Until tonight she had only seen Simon look this happy in bed, and yes, she was a little jealous.
But more than that, she was happy for him. Everyone should have something or someone in their life that they loved so much.
When the evening was over, at an hour much later than Claire had ever been out even on a Friday night, they walked from the club heading toward the apartment. It was a trip of just a few blocks, which was one of the reasons Simon had chosen her apartment building. The evening was a bit cool, but with Simon beside her she didn’t feel too chilly. He was very warm, very much alive, and she smiled contentedly as she remembered that she’d once believed he might be a vampire.
She was still convinced that such creatures were real. She knew in her heart that there was more to the world than most people ever saw. But Simon, Simon was just a man. The perfect man, perhaps, but still…a man. He was warm-blooded, his heart beat well, he didn’t mind going out in the late afternoon sun.
…and he ate her garlic bread.
They held hands very easily, as they walked toward home. Claire couldn’t remember when she’d ever felt so close to a person, when she’d ever felt so much a part of someone’s life. This relationship which had begun so very oddly was important, and if she had her way it would only become more important in days and weeks and years to come. Only one small detail kept her from perfection.
“There’s something I should tell you,” she said as they reached the front entrance to the building. She sensed there were possibilities with Simon, possibilities that went beyond sex and shared laughter. Such a connection couldn’t be built on a lie, no matter how small.
And this lie wasn’t particularly small, to be honest.
As they walked up the stairs, she gathered the strength to begin. “Do you remember when you accused me of stalking you?” she asked.
“Four days ago?” he responded lightly. “Yes, my memory works well enough to remember that.”
“Well, you weren’t entirely off the mark.”
They continued to climb. “You wanted my body,” he teased.
“No! Well, yes I suppose I did, but that’s not why I was following you.”
A small line appeared between his eyes, a hint of a frown. “What, then?”
Claire licked her lips as they entered the third floor hallway, where a few days ago she had attempted to gather proof that Simon was not what he appeared to be. “I thought you might be a vampire.”
She expected an outburst of laughter, and was prepared to order him to be quiet so he wouldn’t wake the neighbors. He continued to walk steadily, and there was no laughter. He didn’t so much as smile. “Why would you think such a thing?”
It seemed like a long way to the section of the third floor where their apartments were located. Maybe this conversation would be best finished in her apartment or his, since he wasn’t taking the news as well as she’d expected he would. Maybe it was too soon. Maybe she should’ve kept the truth to herself for a while longer.