Sucks to Be Me

by Painter, Kristen

“I’m here to see Camm—I mean, Sister Mary Lazarus Immaculata.”

  Sister Agnes frowned, perhaps because Donna had started to use Cammie’s given name instead of her converted one. “Just a moment.”

  Sister Agnes shut the door, leaving Donna to stand outside.

  “Not very charitable,” Donna muttered with amusement. But it was fine. The weather was perfect. The only thing that bothered her was the light. Odd, because the sky was still overcast. But the sun was already headed down, and it would be dusk soon.

  Her stomach rumbled. Maybe she’d pop into Blue Bell’s on the way home for another steak. Her mouth watered. Definitely easier than cooking for herself. Cooking for one wasn’t in her wheelhouse.

  The door opened. “Donna!”

  “Hi, Cammie. I mean, Sister Mary Lazarus.”

  Cammie snorted. “Thanks. Come in.” Then her eyes went wide. “What on earth happened to you?”

  “What do you mean?” But Donna realized instantly. “You mean the way I look.”

  “Of course I mean the way you look. Have you been starving yourself?”

  “No, I promise.”

  Donna stepped inside. The foyer was wood paneled and opened onto a hall that led back to the private quarters, while dividing the common areas of the convent. A sitting room with a television for news was on one side, a dining room with a kitchen beyond on the other. “I think it’s stress.”

  “Stress doesn’t make you half the size you used to be and give you glowing skin.”

  Donna grinned. “You think I’m glowing?”

  Cammie made a face. “What’s going on?”

  “Can we sit?”

  “Sure, come on. But you’re telling me everything.”

  Donna wasn’t so sure about that.

  Cammie led her into the sitting room and took a spot on the outdated couch. Donna took the matching mustard-yellow armchair. The living room furniture looked like it had been donated after someone’s remodel in the late seventies. Which it probably had been.

  Cammie crossed her ankles. “Is this why you came by? To explain why you’re wasting away?”

  “No, silly. I was just coming from Dr. Goldberg’s and thought I’d see how my favorite sister is doing.”

  “I’m your only sister.”

  “True. But you are my favorite nun.” There were no frills anywhere, something Donna had struggled with the first time she’d visited, but she’d grown to appreciate this simple life more and more.

  “I’ll give you that one. What did Dr. Goldberg have to say about all this?”

  “That I am definitely under a lot of stress and that it’s just something I have to get through, but that there is light on the other side.”

  “I still don’t like it. But you look fabulous.” Cammie leaned in. “Now what else is going on?”

  Donna looked toward the hall. “Is this a safe place to talk?”

  “Sure,” Cammie said. Her brows bent. “Is this Villachi business?”

  “I think you could call it that. Big Tony approached me at the funeral. Well, he called me into Joe’s office to talk, actually. Like he had a right to that space.”

  “The nerve.”

  “That’s what I said. Anyway, he basically told me that if I wanted out of the family, I had to finish Joe’s last job.”

  “You said no, right?”

  Donna shook her head. “No. I agreed to do it.”

  Cammie’s mouth dropped open. “What the hell, Donna?”

  Donna snorted. “Are you allowed to talk like that?”

  “‘Hell’ is a Bible curse. And don’t change the subject. I’m a little mad at you right now.”

  “Are nuns allowed to be mad at churchgoers? Especially widowed ones?”

  Cammie glared at Donna. “Stop that already. How could you do something like that for Big Tony? He’s a criminal.”

  “So was Joe. And I did it because he offered me a clean break. Plus, it was only a drop-off.” She hesitated.

  Cammie sighed. “Why do I feel a ‘but’ coming?”

  “Because the drop-off didn’t go so well.”

  Cammie threw her hands into the air. “Who would have predicted?”

  “I’m fine, thanks for asking, but two of the three guys involved…not so much.”

  That got Cammie’s attention. “What does that mean?”

  “I should back up a little. I went to see Rico this morning.”

  “And?”

  “The third man from the drop-off is in the hospital.” Donna took a breath. “The other two are in the morgue.”

  Cammie’s lips parted, but she didn’t say anything, just sat there for a few long seconds. Finally, she spoke. “Did Big Tony go with you? Or some of his lunks?”

  “No.” Donna glanced at her lap. “I went alone.”

  Cammie shook her head. “So who killed those guys? Did you see anyone?”

  “No. I didn’t see another soul.”

  Cammie was silent a moment. “Wait a minute. Rico doesn’t think that you—I mean, that’s not possible.” She gasped. “Did you take a gun?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Did you shoot those men, Belladonna?”

  “No, yes, and no. And the gun never left the glove box.”

  “So Rico doesn’t think you did it?”

  “Right. Like you, he thinks there must have been someone else there. But I don’t think that’s the case. I think…I really don’t know what to think. But I’m struggling with this, that’s for sure.”

  “I’ll pray for you. And pray that the feds find the real killer.”

  Donna nodded. Her sister was such a good person. “That’s not even the whole of it. The bag I was supposed to deliver was filled with bundles of newspaper. Nothing worth actually delivering. So it was a setup from the get-go.” She held her hands up. “Which means you were right in thinking I shouldn’t do it. I was just so eager for the out, you know?”

  “I know. And who could blame you? After all those years with Joe, this had to look like a gift. A chance to make the break you’ve been wanting. Without having to put yourself in the kind of position testifying would.” Cammie took her sister’s hand. “I can’t imagine the courage it took to do something like that, but I know you did it with the kids in mind.”

  “I did. For all of us, really. I don’t think Tony would dare come after you, but I wouldn’t put anything past him.”

  Cammie’s eyes narrowed. “He’d face eternal damnation if he came after me, especially here. This is sacred ground.”

  A younger nun came running in. “Sister Mary Lazarus, you’ll never guess what just—oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had company.”

  “That’s all right, Sister Grace.” Cammie turned toward the young woman. “This is my sister, Belladonna.”

  Sister Grace’s smile got a little bigger. “Nice to meet you, Belladonna. You’ve come on the most amazing day.”

  “Why is that?” Cammie asked.

  “A miracle has occurred.” Sister Grace was beaming now, her hands clasped before her in a state of prayer. “We have truly been blessed with God’s abundance this day.”

  Donna had a sneaking suspicion what Sister Grace was talking about.

  Cammie didn’t, of course. “What is it? What’s happened?”

  Sister Grace pressed the tips of her fingers to her chin. “An anonymous gift in the donation box.” Her voice went a little quivery. “Of a million dollars.”

  Cammie’s mouth opened, but it took a moment for words to come out. “That is truly a miracle. God is good, and we are indeed blessed.”

  “God is good.” Sister Grace nodded. “I have to go tell the others.” She waved at Donna. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You too,” Donna said, waving back.

  Sister Grace disappeared down the hall.

  Cammie turned to face her sister with a curious but knowing expression. “Isn’t that interesting?”

  “It sure is.” Donna looked at her watch. “I should probably let you get back to wh
atever nun business you need to do.”

  “Funny that the same day you decide to visit me out of the blue, an enormous anonymous donation shows up.”

  “It is funny. I’m glad I got to be here for it.”

  “Belladonna.” Cammie’s brows were arched so high they almost disappeared under the edge of her wimple.

  “What?”

  “Where did that money come from?”

  “How would I know? I’ve been in here talking to you.”

  Cammie’s mouth was a hard, bent line of no-nonsense skepticism. “Don’t make me check the security cameras in the chapel.”

  Donna rolled her eyes. “You would do that? So much for donations being anonymous.”

  “Was it the insurance money? If it was, that was very generous, but don’t you need that to live off of?”

  “It wasn’t the insurance money. It was money Joe had stashed away.”

  “Dirty money?”

  “I don’t know exactly how it was earned, but yes, maybe.” Donna glared at her sister. “And I can’t believe you have security cameras in the chapel.”

  “Only on the altar. Did you really put a million dollars of Mafia cash in the donation box?”

  Donna sighed. “Are all nuns as wily as you? Yes. But I wanted it to be anonymous.”

  Cammie put a hand to her head. “It will be. I won’t say a word. Trust me. The last thing I want is for the Mother Superior to find out the origin of that donation. But that’s a big number. Are you going to be okay giving away that much?”

  “Yes. I’ll be fine. So will the kids. There was more.” She glanced toward the hall. “I’m only using what I need until the insurance money comes in, then I’m going to replace it. But I had to do some good with some of it right now. Something to balance out how it was probably earned.”

  Cammie nodded knowingly. “It will be put to good use here. But for the record, we are not God’s money-laundering service. The church actually has a policy against accepting tainted donations.”

  Donna swallowed. “Are you going to turn me in?”

  “No. I should. But the orphanage we support in Nicaragua is desperate for a second building.”

  “Thank you. That’s what I was hoping for. That it would be used for good purposes.” She picked up her purse. “Now I really should go. But I’ll come see you again, I promise.”

  “I’d like that. Just no more dirty donations, okay?”

  “Okay.” Donna stood, and Cammie got up too. They hugged, then Cammie walked her out.

  “Take care of yourself, Donna. Don’t get any thinner. I mean it.”

  “It’s not the plan. See you soon. Love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  Donna walked back to her car, happy that she’d accomplished most of what she’d come to do, but she wished she’d been able to confess to Cammie more of what had really happened. What would she think about Donna being attacked in the cemetery?

  Or suddenly growing fangs?

  Although those hadn’t come back, so…had that actually happened? Or had those been a weird stress hallucination? Honestly, she wasn’t sure about anything anymore.

  Except that she really wanted a steak from Blue Bell’s Diner, and she didn’t care if it came with a baked potato or not.

  Actually, she didn’t even care if the steak was cooked. She was so hungry that raw sounded just fine.

  Apparently, weird was her new normal.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Donna ordered her porterhouse rare, which got her a look from the waitress, but being a Mafia wife meant Donna was used to looks. Most of them she wasn’t meant to see, but she did.

  Hard not to notice people staring and talking behind their hands. Or worse, trying to slyly snap a pic with their phones, which was never that sly given the size of people’s phones these days.

  Thankfully, Joe hadn’t been as well-known as Big Tony. The Villachis had had a small bout with infamy ten years ago when one of Big Tony’s crew had gotten popped for tax evasion, but the guy had kept his mouth shut, done his time, and after a while, the heat had died out a little. The incident was enough to put them all on the map, though.

  Because of that, there were times when that small taste of notoriety made her sympathize with celebrities. Thankfully, most locals left them alone. Probably out of fear.

  It wasn’t ideal, but Donna was okay with it.

  The waitress, unfortunately not Nell from the other night, brought Donna’s plate. “You sure you don’t want the sides? I could box them up for you.”

  “No, I’m good.” Donna smiled as politely as possible. “Watching my carbs.”

  The waitress put the plate down, shrugged, and walked off.

  Donna wasn’t watching her carbs. Not lately, anyway. It was just that the thought of eating something that wasn’t this steak turned her stomach. But the smell of the steak was making saliva pool in her mouth. In fact, if the diner hadn’t been packed with people, she might have picked it up and bitten directly into it. She was that starved all of a sudden.

  But the diner was full, as it was approaching dinnertime, so she remained civilized and used her knife and fork, cutting a good-sized piece.

  Once again, at the sight of the juices running out of the steak, fangs shot through her gums.

  Which confirmed that the first time hadn’t been a fluke or a hallucination or some other weird, one-time thing.

  She carefully navigated past the jutting canines to put the bite of steak into her mouth. As she chewed, she hoped they’d disappear like they had the other night.

  They didn’t.

  There was no way to pretend this was normal. No excuse or explanation that she could come up with.

  No human had fangs like this. Wolves, big cats. Honey badgers, maybe. Bears. Snakes had smaller versions.

  But not people. Not unless they were…

  She closed her eyes, unable to process the word that would explain what had happened in the cemetery and why she was craving raw meat and why the sunlight bothered her eyes today.

  She wasn’t going to say it or think it or accept it, because it wasn’t possible. Only people who’d lost their hold on reality would think a thing like that was even conceivable. Or genuine creepos, like those two in the cemetery.

  The idea of those two still roaming around in the dark…

  She ate the rest of her steak as quickly as possible, threw money down on the table, and left.

  To her dismay, she was still hungry. Still craving meat. Preferably raw. Against her better judgment, she made a quick trip to her favorite grocery store, Wegmans, hitting the meat department for about ten pounds of steaks.

  Hiding her fangs, she kept her mouth shut and her head down and made it back to her car without scaring anyone. Once she was behind the wheel, she exhaled and relaxed her clenched jaw. She was going to eat another steak or two as soon as she got home.

  Home. With a glass of wine in front of the fire. That’s where she needed to be. Maybe she’d even have a good cry about what a mess her life was.

  Although, even with her life being a mess, she didn’t really feel like crying. Besides being hungry and confused, she felt pretty good, actually. Like she could run a marathon. Or take on Big Tony. Not that she was going to do either of those things. But a run might not be a bad idea. A couple miles around the neighborhood.

  A good sweat could cure a lot of things. Not fangs, probably. But maybe it would help her shake off some of this stress.

  Then she could have her glass of wine in front of the fire. And then she’d have more steak, maybe some cake, just to counteract the calories burned on her run. After all, she’d told Cammie she wouldn’t lose any more weight. She almost smiled as she headed for home.

  That was the plan. And having a plan made her happy.

  She hummed a little tune as she parked in the garage and went inside, making sure to turn on the house alarm after she shut the door.

  Halfway to the kitchen to put the steaks away, she f
elt a sixth sense come over her. Like she wasn’t alone. But that was impossible. The alarm was on. And would have been tripped if—she turned toward the living room.

  A dark form filled Joe’s recliner.

  She sucked in a breath.

  “Hello, Belladonna.”

  Claudette. The woman from the cemetery was in her living room. The room should have been dark without the lights on, but the moon and other ambient light from outside and a few electronics made it easy to see. Very easy.

  Donna was well and truly freaked out. “What are you doing in my house? How did you get in with the alarm on?”

  Claudette smiled. “You’re afraid. Don’t be. I told you I would find you and explain things to you more fully. I’m keeping my promise, that’s all. It took me longer than expected, and for that I apologize. But I’m here now.”

  “How did you know how to find me? Never mind. Just get out.”

  She frowned. “I don’t think you mean that. Don’t you want me to answer all your questions? Surely you haven’t figured out everything already. Have you already made a kill? We don’t do that anymore, you know. That’s why I had to take care of Raul.” She sighed. “That happens sometimes. A turning goes poorly. Not everyone takes to the change as well as you apparently have.”

  “Stop talking like I have any clue what you mean.”

  Claudette got out of the recliner in a smooth move that made her seem like she had liquid joints. “I see. You have yet to accept it.”

  “Accept what?”

  She came closer to Donna until only a few feet separated them. “That you are now fully a vampire.”

  That word. Donna shook her head. “That’s not possible.”

  “You already know it is. Pretending it’s not changes nothing.” Claudette smiled and showed off gleaming white fangs. “You’ve seen the signs. Experienced some of the changes. But the transition into the new life can be difficult when you weren’t prepared to have to change at all. I understand that.”

  Donna was about fed up. “So that’s why I’m no longer perimenopausal, right?”

  “Right. Most come to the new life wanting it, but you weren’t given that choice, so of course you must feel some resistance.”

  “You’re talking nonsense. There’s no such thing as vampires.” But she was down with no more hot flashes.