by Laura Del
“One day, he got on his knees and asked for her hand. I could see the disappointment on her face when she saw that the ring wasn’t up to her standards, but she just grinned and accepted it. But then something happened. After he visited you and Samuel, the shine started to come off her. He was finally seeing her for what she really was. Apparently, she had flirted with Mr. Satané almost all night long, and your father did not like it. She made up her mind to get herself pregnant to keep him, and actually stopped taking her birth control pills.”
“Bitch,” I hissed and then remembered. “Sorry, Moms.”
“No, you are absolutely right. She was that and worse. She had it in her head when she found out she had gotten pregnant that she would have a little accident and lose the baby.” My mouth dropped open. “I know,” Moms replied to my silent outrage. “The cold-hearted guttersnipe actually thought all she had to do was fall down the stairs. And after I was with you, she decided that it was time to execute her plan before the wedding because she didn’t want to be fat in her wedding dress.”
“Ugh,” I grunted. “What a despicable human being.”
She nodded slightly. “You can say that again.”
“So what happened?”
“She fell down the stairs and died,” my mother replied. “But I couldn’t allow that poor baby to die with her. So I politely explained that she was no longer welcome, and I took her place in her body.”
I pursed my lips at her. “What did you really say, Moms?”
She sighed. “I told her that if she didn’t leave I would haunt her for the rest of her life, and she would not have a minute’s peace.”
I waved her on. “And?”
“And that I would make sure that she ended up penniless and alone.”
“Moms, you were a ghost, you couldn’t interfere like that. Right?”
“Yes,” she said with a smile, “but she did not know that, dear.”
“So you took over her body.” Even though it was a statement, my mother nodded. “And the whole changing your hair thing?”
“My idea,” she huffed. “Did you see that God awful red hair she had? It was hideous, and I couldn’t very well live with that for the rest of her life, could I?”
I shook my head. “No, you couldn’t.”
“I’m so sorry about the ring, darling. I know I promised it to you, but I just needed something familiar at hand. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“It’s okay, Moms,” I breathed, leaning back against the chair. “It just took me off guard. I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
“Don’t be, darling,” she said, placing her hand on my knee like she always used to. “I should have told you from the beginning.”
“You had your reasons.”
She smiled. “That I did.”
“Still,” I sighed, “you could have at least mentioned it.”
She laughed. “That I could have.”
“I’m a bit confused.”
She cocked a brow at me. “About?”
“Well,” I breathed, reaching over to get a doughnut, “if Cindy is technically dead then doesn’t that make you, I don’t know, like a zombie?”
She grimaced. “No, because she was only almost dead.”
It was my turn to cock a brow. “Almost dead?”
“Not entirely over to the other side, but just enough for me to plant myself in her body.”
I blinked at her. “That’s just weird.”
“Not any stranger than you seeing me in limbo.”
“True,” I conceded. I took a bite out of the doughnut to calm the knot in my stomach. This was just too much to take in for one week. My mother was in Cindy’s body, having my father and Cindy’s baby, and now she was being remarried to Pops while in said dead girlfriend’s body. “Unbelievable.”
“Patricia, are you all right with this?”
I nodded. “Oh, yeah, Moms. I’m okay. It’s just a lot to take in,” I paused, thinking for a moment. “Does Mortimer know?”
“Why would he know anything about it? I sure didn’t tell him.”
I wondered if he could hear us while he was in the garage and asleep. “Did you two ever… you know?”
She looked confused for a second and then realized what I was saying. “Well—”
My mouth dropped open. “Moms!”
“It was only once right before I left for America, and we decided that it was better to remain friends.”
“You mean you decided,” I scoffed.
Her brow furrowed. “What?”
I shook my head, remembering that Mortimer had tried to kiss me. “It’s written all over his face every time he talks about you.” Technically it wasn’t a lie, but I didn’t want to explain what happened earlier. “His face just lights up. He was clearly in love with you.”
She laughed. “Mortimer? I doubt that very—” she stopped as I pursed my lips. “He was, wasn’t he?”
I nodded. “Uh-huh.”
She took a deep breath, frowning. “Well, I am sorry for that, and I’m sorry for him.”
“He would probably say that it was life, and that it was all a part of being human.”
“I never liked when he did that,” Moms admitted. “I used to call it his corn-fed wisdom. I think the worst part was that he was always right.”
“Yeah, that can be annoying.”
We were silent for a minute, and I could see that Moms wanted to say something, but she was keeping it to herself. I let it go until the silence was too much to bear. “Just say it,” I blurted, and she looked at me. “You’re dying to say something, just say it.”
“How is it you wound up amongst the dead, Patricia?”
I shrugged. “I honestly don’t know.”
“After all Mortimer did—”
My eyes widened. “You knew about the protection?” I asked interrupting her, and she nodded. “Why didn’t you mention this to me when you were alive the first time?”
“I didn’t want you and your sister to worry about all this supernatural stuff. But if I would have known you two would have gotten yourselves into this much trouble…” she paused, shaking her head. “Then again, these are my daughters we’re talking about.”
“When you’re right, you’re right.”
Her face because smug, and it was strange seeing one of my mother’s expressions on Cindy’s face. “And I usually am right.” She was silent for a moment, all trace of smugness gone. “Is your sister all right, Patricia?” she finally asked, her motherly voice dripping with concern.
All I could do was shrug. “I don’t know, Moms. I really don’t know.”
She sighed. “We are going to have to keep an eye on that situation, aren’t we?”
I nodded. “Yes we are.”
“I knew I could count on you, Patricia.”
I smiled a little. “Anytime, Moms,” I told her and then wondered, “Is there anything else I need to know about?”
“There is something,” she said, but before she could tell me, Fang decided it was a good time to wake up and start whimpering. “He’s probably hungry. I’ll go make him some food.” She started to walk out of the living room, but she wasn’t getting away that easily.
“Moms,” I called after her, and she turned around.
“Yes, darling?”
“What is the something you were going to tell me?”
She smiled, her ‘I know something you don’t’ smile. “All in good time, Patricia. Besides, you’ll figure it out sooner or later.”
“Gee,” I yelled as she scurried into the kitchen, “thanks!”
After that, I just sat there and ate my doughnut. I hated when she did that. She would tell me only half of something and then have me figure out the rest by myself. Moms called it “the art of deduction” in honor of her favorite literary c
haracter, Sherlock Holmes. It was a character builder, but it still didn’t make it any less annoying.
Fang whimpered again and I got up, walking over to sooth him. As I kneeled in front of him, he looked up at me with his big blue eyes. “Are you okay, sweetie?” I asked, petting him between the ears, and he blinked at me. “Yeah, me too.” The little boy touched my cast with his gauzed leg, and I nodded. “Yup, I’m injured in the foot just like you. Only a monster did mine, who did yours?” he sneezed in answer. “I see. You don’t want to talk about it. Well, when you’re ready, I’m here.” Then I realized, “And I’m talking to an animal that has no idea what I’m saying,” I cooed at him.
I stood and patted my hip for him to follow me, and he gently jumped off the couch. He limped behind me as I made my way to the kitchen. “Food ready?”
Moms was standing at the median smiling down at Fang. “Yes,” she replied, taking a bowl full of water and one full of food, placing them down on the floor for the puppy. He limped over to them and drank immediately, but put his nose up to the food.
“Go on,” I told him. “It’s good for you.” But he just looked up at me and cried. “Maybe we should try some of the wet food?”
Moms shrugged. “Worth a try.” She opened a can and placed it alongside the water, but still he wouldn’t budge.
The front door opened, and I turned to see Tina and Andrew walk in. They were intently talking about something, and I had a feeling I knew what it was.
“Patty,” Tina said sounding aggravated, “can you believe this? He won’t tell me what’s so important, but he dragged me outta the diner. I barely had time to finish my eggs and hash browns, but apparently, Andy’s got somethin’ to tell you.”
“Pat,” he whispered, pulling me aside, “Cindy is—”
“My mother,” I finished for him.
His mouth dropped open. “How’d you know that?”
“She told me.”
“Whoa,” Tina said, holding her hands up. “Cindy is your mother? I don’t understand.”
“Patricia,” Moms said, still in her light English accent, “maybe I should just give him some chicken. I have leftovers in the refrigerator.”
“Mrs. Wyatt?” Tina asked her.
Moms smiled at her. “Hello, Christina. It’s a long story, but I have a feeling Patricia will tell you, as it should be. You should always have someone to talk to, I say.”
“Does Mr. Wyatt know?”
“No,” Moms, Andrew, and I answered.
“No, Tina,” I repeated. “I don’t think we should tell him either.”
“Good thinking,” she agreed, shaking her head.
“Would you look at that?” Moms said, pointing down at Fang. He was eating and vigorously.
“He’s got good taste,” I laughed. “I guess we’ll just feed him like that until he gets use to the other food.”
“Ghosts in other people’s bodies, clairvoyants, vampires, werewolves,” Tina mumbled. “I’m starting to wonder if the Easter Bunny may be real.”
“Who’s a clairvoyant?” my mother asked as she bent over to pet Fang. Andrew raised his hand in answer. “Really?” she said, and he nodded. “How fascinating. We must talk more on this later. But now we have to get the house ready for the rehearsal dinner.”
My eyes widened. “That’s tonight?”
“Didn’t I tell you, darling?”
I shook my head. “No, you didn’t.”
She grimaced, which looked weird on Cindy’s face. “I’m sorry. I do need your help, though.”
“No problem, Moms.”
“Thank you, darling. Now,” she sighed, “I have to get the tablecloth and everything out of the garage.”
“No,” I screamed, and all three of them looked at me. “Mortimer’s in there.”
“What?” Tina asked. “Why?”
I pointed out the sliding glass door. “It’s a sunny day.”
“I guess no tablecloth then,” Moms chimed in.
“I’m sure he’ll be up before people arrive,” Andrew offered. “But whatever else we can do to help Mrs.—”
Before he could finish, there was a loud bang from upstairs, and we all jumped. “What the hell was that?” Tina breathed, her hand over her heart.
“It sounded like something fell upstairs,” I said. “I’ll go see what it is.”
“Patty,” Tina yelled when I was halfway down the hall, “be careful. If there is anything up there you holler, okay?”
I gave her a thumbs up and then ascended the stairs. There was another little rumble from inside my room, so I opened the door to find the window was wide open. It appeared as though the wind had knocked it open, and as I walked into the room, I heard the door slam shut. Before I could turn around, someone grabbed me from behind and placed a hand over my mouth.
chapter
EIGHTEEN
I screamed into the hand covering my mouth, and I tried to get out of the person’s grasp, but they were too strong. They pinned my arms down to my sides, and no matter how hard I struggled, their grip only became tighter.
“Sh,” the male voice hissed in my ear, “bébé, it’s me.”
I stopped fighting when I recognized Mike’s voice. “Mike?” I asked into his hand so it came out muffled.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “Surprise.”
When he let me go, I turned around to look up into his smiling face, his green eyes sparkling as they usually did when he looked at me. Without missing a beat, I started hitting him with my good hand. “What is wrong with you?”
“Ow,” he yelped, holding up his arms to defend himself. “What’d I do?”
“You scared the living daylights out of me,” I hissed. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”
“I’m sorry,” he said with his arms in front of his face. “I thought it’d be a good surprise.”
“Really? You thought sneaking into my bedroom through the window and creeping up behind me was a good surprise?”
He grimaced, rubbing the back of his very-tanned neck. “I see what you mean. I’m sorry, bébé. That was stupid.” His dirty blond hair fell into his face and I had the urge to sweep it away, but I had bigger things to discuss with him.
“Why are you here?” I asked, folding my arms.
“Contain your excitement, Pat.”
“What should I be excited about? The fact that you sneaked in or the fact that you lied to me?”
He cocked his head at me. “Lie to you, I didn’t… ow,” Mike screamed again as I hit his arm. “Why do you keep doin’ that?”
“Because you’re still lying to me,” I hissed.
“About what?” he asked in silent confusion.
“You never tried to kill me. You just said that because you wanted me gone. Why?”
“What? I think I remember—”
“How do werewolves eat, Mike?” I interrupted him.
“With our teeth,” he answered without thinking, and I just glared at him. “What does that have to do with anythin’?”
“Mortimer explained it to me.”
“Mort’s here?” he asked with a smile. “How is he?”
“That’s not the point,” I hollered. “You lied to me!”
“Patty,” Tina called from downstairs, “is everything all right?”
“Yes,” I yelled back, “everything’s fine. My bags fell, and I’m just cleaning up the mess.”
“You need any help, sweetie?”
“No, I’m good. I got it.”
“Okay,” she said, and I waited for a couple seconds until I knew she was out of earshot.
“Why did you do it?” I whispered
“Do what?” he responded just as softly.
“Lie to me? You could have just told me the truth.”
He sighed. “The way you were that night
, no I couldn’t have. I had a lucid change, and I tried to save you, but everything that I did just seemed to make it worse. Then Angel thought I was tryin’ to kill ya, and growled at me…” his voice trailed away. “It was just better to leave ya alone and let her take care of it. Then when ya woke up, I could tell you were dealin’ with a lot, so—” I pulled him down by his t-shirt, kissing him passionately on the lips.
“I kind of figured all that out already,” I said against his lips. “Now, why are you here?”
He took a deep breath, wrapping his arms around my waist. “We’ve got a little bit of a problem.”
I closed my eyes. “Could this week get any worse? What now?”
“Okay,” he breathed, moving me to back to sit on the bed. I looked up at him and then he knelt in front of me. “Everythin’ is all screwed up, bébé. The pack wants an answer from me, and they want it now. So I said I’d come here and ask for your answer.”
“Mike,” I sighed, “you know what the answer is. I don’t want to be a werewolf.”
“I know that, Pat. Just because I told them that, doesn’t mean that’s why I’m really here,” he paused, smiling up at me. “There’s one surefire way to screw all of ‘em over.” He took a deep breath, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a small black box. “Marry me?” My mouth dropped open, and I stopped breathing for a second or two, and when I could finally breathe, I was speechless.
Mike sensed my hesitation, which wasn’t hard considering I was sitting with my mouth open, not saying anything, and he shook his head while still smiling. “That was dumb and unromantic and just stupid. I’m sorry. And you’re just gettin’ over the whole nearly dyin’ thing, your daddy’s gettin’ married and on top of all this you have to deal with an idiot who lied to you, askin’ you to marry him. I’m just—”
“Mike,” I finally said, interrupting his babble.
“Yeah?” he breathed.
“Shut up for a minute, will you?”
“Sure.” I placed my hand on his shoulder, and he finally noticed my cast. “What the hell happened?”
