by Gayla Twist
“Thank you,” she said, sparing the roses only a small glance. “Ex-boyfriend or creepy guy hoping to be your boyfriend?”
“Wh...” She had caught me out, and I didn’t know how to answer.
This made Grandma chuckle. “This isn’t my first time around the block,” she explained. “I know the only reason people bring nice flowers to the old age home is because they don’t want them.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling genuinely ashamed. “I can give them to the nurses at the front desk if you want.”
“No, that’s okay, dear. Please don’t worry about it. It’s the privilege of the old to call out the young. When I have the presence of mind to do it, I like to take advantage of the situation.”
I realized, with some surprise, that Grandma Gibson was acting normal. Not just normal, but pretty damn sharp. This never happened when I visited. I sometimes got Sweet Grandma and frequently got Confused Grandma or Agitated Grandma and then there was the new Fortune-Telling Grandma, which I did not appreciate, but rarely Sharp Grandma. Everyone had warned me that she was having a horrible day, but there she was, giving me guilt for recycled flowers. It made me suspicious. “What’s going on, Grandma?” I asked, parking myself in the spare chair.
“I had a visit from your young man,” she told me quite casually as she flipped over a card and placed it in one of the long rows she’d made.
“Fred?” I was confused.
“No.” Grandma shook her head. “That wasn’t his name.” She pursed her lips. “He looked exactly the way I remembered him. So handsome. I can see how Colette was taken in.”
“You mean Jessie?” I asked. There didn’t seem to be any point in trying to conceal his name from her. “Jessie visited you here?”
Grandma looked up at me. “Jessie. Yes, that’s right. That’s his name. Back when I knew him we always addressed him as Mr. Vanderlind, but I suppose things aren’t as formal now.”
I should have known Grandma Gibson would find a way to make my visit weird. Pinching the bridge of my nose to fight back a headache, I asked, “So you’re saying Jessie Vanderlind came here? To visit you? During visiting hours or something?”
“Oh, don’t be silly, Aurora,” she said, mildly ridiculing me. “Visiting hours end at six. He couldn’t have come out then. He came last night. He was there,” she said, pointing across the room. “Lurking outside my window.”
“He...” I stared at the window for a moment. The curtains were wide open, and the late afternoon light was streaming in. If I were her and I saw a vampire lurking outside my window, I would at least have the curtains drawn. “What did you do?”
“I opened the window and invited him in,” she said matter-of-factly as she rearranged a few of her cards.
“You did what?” I couldn’t help but exclaim. I trusted Jessie with my life, but he always insisted that I never invite him into my home. He always wanted there to be at least a small barrier between us.
“I told him he was welcome to my blood,” Grandma continued, ignoring my outburst. “All that he could drink. But in exchange, he had to leave my great granddaughter alone.”
“You... He...” I stammered. “What did you do that for?”
Grandma sighed, giving me a weary look. “Because I’m old. And I’ve lived with the pain of Colette’s death for most of my life. If he were to kill you, like he did my sister, and I was to just keep on living, there wouldn’t be any sense in it. I would gladly trade my life for yours if it meant he would go away and leave my family alone.”
“He’s not like that,” I told her.
“Not like what?” was her reply. “Not like a vampire? He doesn’t feed off of humans? He doesn’t drink blood? He doesn’t lure young girls into falling in love with him and then steal their lives?”
“No, he doesn’t,” I said firmly. “He did fall in love with Colette. But he’s not the one that killed her. He couldn’t have. He loved her too much. He still loves her.”
“Yes, he tried to tell me that, but I wouldn’t listen to his lies.” There was no getting around her there. She obviously wouldn’t listen to anyone.
I wondered how Jessie must have felt seeing Lily Gibson after so long. “What did he say?”
“He said he was sorry. He said there wasn’t a day of his life where he didn’t think of Colette. At least we have that in common.”
“Did he come in here?” I asked, still trying to process what my grandmother had done. “Did he come into your room?”
“No,” Grandma told me. “He stayed outside like a gentleman.”
“What else did you talk about?” I was still incredulous.
“He told me about his love for Colette and what happened the night she disappeared,” Grandma said. “I didn’t believe him, of course, but he did a good job of appearing remorseful.”
“I think he truly is remorseful,” I told her.
Grandma Gibson blew air out from between her lips, making a small sound of disgust. “He’s a vampire. He doesn’t know how to feel remorse. Not anymore. He’s just imitating the way he used to feel when he was alive.”
I wanted to contradict her but knew it wouldn’t do any good. “Did you talk about anything else?”
“He told me about you. How he thinks that you’re Colette or some such nonsense.”
“Well, I do have some of her dreams,” I tried to say.
She cut me off with, “I don’t believe it for a minute. Shame on him for bewitching a young girl. If he had any human emotions left at all, he would feel ashamed.”
“Grandma, it’s not like that,” I said, reaching out and touching her forearm. She was getting quite worked up, and I wanted to calm her.
“Oh, I know what it’s like,” she said, a wheeze catching in her voice. “I know he used his good looks and his grief to captivate you. But it’s not too late,” she told me, coughing a little, her breath getting more ragged. “You don’t have to go.”
“I do, Grandma,” I said, getting to my feet, thinking I should call a nurse or something. “Did he tell you why I have to go?”
“No!” Grandma Gibson practically choked. “You don’t have to go. Just wait until he comes to see you tonight,” she said, coughing very hard into a hankie she had on the table. I was about to head into the hall to call for some help, but she grabbed me by the shirt and pulled me down to her eye level. “Wait until he’s very close to you, then grab a stake and plunge it into his black heart!”
Grandma Gibson let out a sharp gasp and fell forward, the flimsy card table buckling beneath her weight.
“Nurse!” I yelled into the hallway. “I need help! My grandmother’s collapsed. She can’t breathe! I need help!”
Chapter 16
“Oh, sweetie,” Mom said, wrapping her arms around me.
I started crying. I couldn’t help it. Sometimes you can hold it together until your mom is there, and then you have to cry. “Is Grandma going to be all right?” I asked between sobs.
“I think so, honey. The doctor said she just got over excited,” Mom said, rubbing my back. “What was she talking about that got her so worked up?”
It took me a second to compose my lie. Fortunately, Mom just assumed I was trying to control my emotions. “I think she’s upset that I want to see Dad,” I said, not meeting my mother’s eye. “She was having trouble breathing.”
Mom nodded. “The doctor said she was just hyperventilating.”
After Grandma fell, when I ran out into the hallway screaming, three different nursing home employees came on the run. They got her to lie down, and somebody called emergency services. As Grandma was being wheeled away by the paramedics, I swear I saw her glance in my direction, a look of triumph flashing across her face. But it might have been the light playing tricks or something because she was really out of it. I followed the ambulance to the hospital, and my mom joined me in the waiting room.
After I’d calmed down, my mom said, “Why don’t you head home, honey? I’m sure you haven’t ha
d anything to eat, and you probably need to pack.”
“Pack?” I looked at her, confused.
“Well, I assume you told your grandmother that your father had said yes and that’s why she got so upset.”
“Yeah, but I can’t go now,” I said, waving a hand at our surroundings. “Grandma’s in the hospital. What if I go and it kills her?”
Mom gave my shoulder a reassuring pat. “I’ll handle your grandmother. She’s just being dramatic because she knows that I’m still hurt about your dad. But that’s no excuse to send you on a guilt trip.”
“I...” I began, feeling absolutely miserable. I was lying to Mom, but Grandma Gibson knew the truth.
“No,” Mom said in a firm voice. “If your dad and Tammy are willing to have you, then I really think you should go. I mean, who knows when you’ll get this chance again?”
As I drove home, I thought about Grandma Gibson. She was willing to exchange her life for mine. She was willing to cause herself to be hospitalized to stop me. That was sure one determined lady. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she managed to die overnight, just so that I’d have to stay in town for the funeral. I was super angry at her but also kind of admired her determination.
By the time I pulled into the garage, it was ten to nine. I was starving. I headed directly to the kitchen and started stuffing leftovers in my mouth straight from the Tupperware out of the fridge. I knew I looked like crap and that Jessie would be touching down on the roof at any minute. Still, I kept eating. Sometimes a girl has to prioritize filling her belly over looking hot for a vampire.
Jessie was already waiting for me by the time I ran upstairs, splashed a little water on my face, and dragged a brush through my hair. As soon as he saw me, he placed himself directly in front of the window, practically leaning against the glass. “What happened?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”
I didn’t know what to say to him. I wanted to wrench open the window and fling myself into his arms. But I also wanted to know why the hell he’d gone to visit my Grandma Gibson. If he’d just left her alone then she probably wouldn’t have gotten so upset that she had to be hospitalized.
“What did you do after you left here last night?” I asked through the glass, scrutinizing his face for any hint of deception. I had no reason to mistrust him. He’d always been honest with me. But I was upset about Grandma Gibson and ready to cast blame.
Looking down, Jessie said, “I spoke to some vampires who I found in the neighborhood and then...” He ran his hand through his hair a few times. “I went to see Lily.”
I appreciated the fact that he didn’t lie about it, but I definitely wanted to know, “Why?”
“I didn’t mean for her to know I was there,” he confessed, his head still low. “I just wanted to see her. To know who she was after all of these years.”
“And?” I prodded, unwilling to guide the direction of his words or let him off the hook.
“And she was waiting for me. It was like she knew I was coming,” he said, his eyes wide at the memory. “It was too late for me to just disappear into the night, and she was staring at me so fixedly that it only made sense to talk to her.”
“What did you say?” I asked.
“It was more what she said.” Jessie ran his hand through his hair a few more times and then looked up at me, meeting my eye. “She offered me her life to leave you alone.”
I nodded, keeping my gaze steady. He looked so distressed that my impulse was to fling open the window and wrap my arms around him. But I held strong and just waited for him to keep talking.
“I tried to explain to her that you were in danger and that I only wanted to protect you, but she refused to believe me.” He shook his head. “She’s a very strong-willed woman.”
“Not that strong,” I whispered, tears immediately filling my eyes at the memory of Grandma Gibson collapsing to the ground.
“Why? What is it?” he asked.
“She’s in the hospital,” I told him. “I went to visit her at the home today. She got very upset because of me and ended up having some kind of attack. She couldn’t breathe, and the nursing home had to call 911.”
“That’s horrible.” Jessie truly looked grieved by the news. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have gone to see her. I should have been more careful.”
I didn’t know what to say because he was right, he shouldn’t have gone to see her, and he should have been more careful.
“Do you think she’s going to be all right?” he asked in a quiet voice.
“The doctors said she would,” I replied.
“Do you need to stay here? For Thanksgiving?” Jessie wanted to know. “I can try to delay the Bishops, explain that there is a family emergency. They definitely understand about family.”
“Would they be willing to wait until my Christmas break?” I asked. It wasn’t too late to try to whip up a good story about being an exchange student.
“No.” Jessie shook his head. “The most they’d give us is a few days. They’re not that understanding.”
“My mom said I should go to see my dad anyway and that Grandma will be all right. But if something happened because I left...” I felt my heart clenching at the thought, a huge lump forming in the back of my throat.
Jessie sagged, his legs folding under him. It was as if he was a beach ball and someone had pulled the plug. He ended up in a sitting position on the roof. “When I was alive, I was just a teenager. I felt so strong, so full of life. I felt almost like I was invincible. But humans are so delicate. So easily broken. One day they’re young, beautiful girls and then, in the blink of an eye, they become fragile old women. It’s frightening,” he whispered, wiping at his eyes. “It was so hard seeing her,” he went on. “Lily was very pretty, too, you know, when she was a girl. Not as beautiful as Colette, but still young and fresh and vibrant. It just wasn’t that long ago...” his words trailed off.
I opened the window and kneeled down to lean on the sill. “What is it?” I asked.
“It’s just strange to think that if Colette had lived, she’d be almost the same age as Lily is right now,” he admitted. “In my memory, she’s so young and vital and pure. I guess I never really pictured her aging before now. Not really.” A thought occurred to him. I could see it in his eyes as they shifted in my direction. I could guess what he was thinking.
“You’ve never thought about me aging either, have you?” I asked.
“No,” he admitted. “Not really. It’s just such an alien concept to me. I mean, I can’t ever see not loving you, but...”
“But it becomes a lot harder when you’re still seventeen and I’m seventy-three?” I supplied.
“I’m sorry,” he said, appearing truly ashamed. “I guess I should have thought harder about all this eighty years ago when I asked Colette to run away with me.”
“It’s okay,” I told him. “Back then you actually were seventeen. And it’s hard to be practical when you’re seventeen and in love.” I knew that for a fact.
“But I’m not seventeen now,” he insisted. “Well, my body is,” he said, looking down, still dismayed by it, apparently. “Pursuing you was the worst thing I ever could have done to you.”
“But you didn’t pursue me; I pursued you,” I reminded him. It was true. I had practically stalked him once I’d escaped, unharmed, from the castle. “And Viktor would have come after me, anyway. It was Blossom and me who snuck into the castle in the first place. You didn’t invite us there.”
Jessie kept shaking his head back and forth just a little bit in a micro gesture of self condemnation. “I could have handled things differently with him. I’m the one that injured Viktor’s pride. He wouldn’t have come after you if he didn’t want to punish me.”
“Does any of this really matter now? I mean—you’re to blame; I’m to blame—does it matter?” I asked. It seemed like we were getting distracted from our goal.
“You’re right,” Jessie said, straightening up. “We need to give our full e
nergy to convincing the Bishops. That should be the only thing we focus on right now.”
“Aurora?” my mom’s voice called. There was a light tapping at my bedroom door.
“Just a minute, Mom,” I called, throwing Jessie a glance and then quietly sliding the window shut. I was just getting up as she opened the door.
“What’s going on?” I asked her. “How’s Grams doing?”
“Fine, as far as I can tell,” she said, coming into my room. “She’s just a little disoriented, so they’re keeping her overnight for observation.”
“Do you think she’s going to be okay?” I asked. I really couldn’t handle Grandma Gibson dying because of me. I knew she was very old, but I was the one adding stress to her life.
“I don’t know,” Mom said, sitting on the end of my bed. “I hope so. She’s getting up there, so we have to be prepared, no matter what.”
I was disappointed to see Mom take a seat. I needed to keep talking to Jessie. I needed to find out what I was supposed to do for tomorrow. But my mom looked so stressed and tired. I walked over and put my arms around her. “You’re a good granddaughter. She knows that.”
Mom sniffed. “Thanks, sweetie. And you’re a good great granddaughter.”
I didn’t contradict her. It wasn’t the truth, but telling her wouldn’t help the situation. “Thanks,” I said quietly as I gave her a big squeeze.
Mom stayed in my room talking for about twenty minutes. Mostly, I just listened as she reminisced about Grandma Gibson, who had been a big influence in her life growing up. “I just hate the thought of her not being here,” she said at one of her more tearful moments.
I hated the thought of me disappearing on a road trip to see my dad and my mom never knowing why. I was trapped—trapped by knowing Jessie, trapped by loving Jessie. I couldn’t think of a way out of my troubles. I had to go to Budapest. That was at the forefront of my mind. I had to go. My only chance of survival was to go and hope we were convincing enough that the Bishops forgave me for being the cause of death of a vampire. It sounded so ludicrous. I wondered if there was a chance that I was actually just going crazy and had somehow made the whole thing up. Should I have been talking to a psychiatrist rather than getting on an airplane?
