"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.
"The Sterlings will be down shortly. May I get you a drink while you wait?"
"No thank you," my mother said. "We can wait for the Sterlings ."
"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 a Phantom 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 the Sterlings 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 and spiderwebs; 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 many Bela 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.
My mom gasped.
"What's wrong?" my dad asked, standing behind me.
My mother turned ghost white."Nothing. I just thought I saw something, that's all. It must have been the lighting."
Alexander shut his parents' door. "I forgot. Jameson didn't get to clean it and if it isn't perfect "
"We understand. I wouldn't want to give a tour of our house anytime soon," I said.
"Those stairs lead to my attic room, but I wasn't expecting-"
"I think we should help your mother," my mom said hurriedly.
Alexander and my dad talked about the Mansion as my mother pulled me to the side. "I saw a coffin in the bedroom."
"Mom.Do you really believe Mr. or Mrs. Sterling would sleep in a coffin?"
She paused. Then she let out a laugh.
"I'm sorry,Raven . This house is kind of spooky. I guess I just got caught up in it. You're right. It must have been a chest of some sort."
"Duh!You think I'd date someone whose mother slept in a coffin?"
"Well ," she said, with another laugh.
"Let's hurry up before they think we're snooping," I said.
We found Mr. and Mrs. Sterling setting out napkins on the coffee table in the living room.
"Your home is very historic," my mother said.
"I was hoping you'd like it," Mrs. Sterling said, pleased. "It's not everyone's taste, we know. We love it because it has character."
Just then something flew overhead. My mom let out a scream.
"Sarah! Calm down," my dad said,
"I thought I just saw a bird."
"Not a bird, Sarah," Mr. Sterling said, "It was a bat."
"A bat?"
"We are so sorry. That happens from time to time, this house being so old and all."
"Jameson!" Mrs. Sterling called.
"Can we take it home?" I asked.
"Of course not!" my mom exclaimed.
Alexander was growing paler by the moment,
Jameson rushed in holding abroom, I found it comical watching the creepy man struggle as he chased the flying creature into another room,
"Well, that doesn't happen every day." My mom laughed.
"As a matter of fact, it does," Mr. Sterling commented.
Alexander quickly changed the subject to the weather, but when the forecast called for sunny skies, Mrs. Sterling became antsy.
"What about having a few BloodyMary's ?" she suggested.
"I'm not sure the Madisons like those, Mom," Alexander said.
"Perhaps you prefer wine?" Mr. Sterling asked.
I wanted to steer my parents away from anything red, just in case there was a mixup in the kitchen.
"My parents love beer and martinis."
"Raven, don't be rude," my mother scolded.
"Of course," Mr. Sterling said."Jameson, two martinis."
"Make mine dry, please," my dad said.
And clear, I wanted to say.Very clear.
Jameson brought us trays of fancy finger foods. Tiny pastries and miniature sandwiches filled the pewter serving plates. I was afraid to ask what was inside, but that didn't stop my mother.
"Liver.Kidney.And-" Mrs. Sterling began before my mom cut her off.
"I'm still full from dinner," she remarked, and quickly switched to the pastries.
The pastries melted in our mouths and I craved more. I was scooping up a diamond-shaped one when my mom picked up the conversation.
"I couldn't help but notice," she said. "You don't have any mirrors. Not in the bathroom or the hallway."
"We have some in the basement," Mrs. Sterling answered truthfully. I remembered seeing them when Fd snuck in one time. "We just haven't hung them up," she continued.