by Sarah Blair
“That’s enough.” Dimitrius pulled Sidney away.
“Sidney! How long have you and Dimitrius been dating?” another reporter shouted.
Argus held open the door to the limousine. Dimitrius helped Sidney in, then sank onto the seat beside her. The door shut and the screaming reporters were silenced.
Malcolm went around, got in the driver’s seat and pulled away, while the others piled into an SUV behind them.
Sidney leaned forward and pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes.
“It’s done.” Dimitrius placed his hand on her back.
“They think we’re dating?”
“The instant the news broke about your grandfather, the paparazzi turned their attention on you.”
“I don’t want to be a Page Six Princess again. I already lived that life. I just want to be left alone.”
“It’ll die down soon enough.”
Sidney pulled out her smart phone and checked the images from one of the gossip websites. She found a grainy photo of her and Dimitrius holding hands as they exited the back door at Bitten. She raised an eyebrow at the caption. “New York’s new Power Couple?”
Dimitrius shrugged.
Sidney made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat. “You’re okay with this?”
“The masses will believe whatever they choose.” He waved his hand in a vague way past the window. “It has been that way for as long as I can ever remember.”
She sat back, unsatisfied with his answer, but not willing to debate. The image of a blood splattered pillow flashed into her mind. Her stomach turned.
“How long does it take to forget the terrible things you’ve done?”
“I’m sorry to say, some things you never forget. All you can do is try not to let the bad memories outweigh the good. The good is always there.” He smoothed his warm hand over the top of hers. “Sometimes it’s harder to recall, but there’s always something.”
“Do you think my grandfather was telling the truth about my mother?” Her throat constricted.
“What do you believe?”
“I don’t know what to believe. I didn’t get to talk to Mitch about it.” She nibbled her lower lip. The bond between them flowed up her arm, now becoming more of a comfort than a shock.“I wonder if he suspected the truth somehow, and that’s why he never pursued it any further. Some things are just too ugly to know for sure.”
“Do you regret the trip to Ellis Island?”
Sidney shook her head. “No.”
“Good.”
“I do regret calling Mitch when that hybrid came to my apartment. If I hadn’t called, he wouldn’t have been bitten.”
“You can’t spend the rest of your life second guessing every choice.” He traced the tip of his thumb casually around her knuckles. The comforting warmth grew and spread inside her. She tucked her hand into a fist and shoved it under her other arm.
“I’m not ready for this.” The tone of her voice was harsher than she’d meant for it to be and she threw him an apologetic glance. “For any of it. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Dimitrius bowed his head in that special way of his, the way that twisted her insides and made her forget why she pulled away.
“Take the time you need, my lady.” He turned his attention out the window. “That is one thing we have plenty of.”
Forty
“You still haven’t told me exactly where we’re going,” Williams said.
“Turn right at that gate.” She hugged the urn with Mitch’s ashes so that it wouldn’t tip over.
Williams pulled onto the white crushed gravel drive and stopped at a huge iron filigreed gate with two brick columns on either side of the driveway. The fence went down the road for two miles in both directions. It surprised her that after all these years she still remembered that.
There was an aged bronze sign on the right hand column which read: Lakehurst.
Williams rolled down the window and stared at the numbers on a dialing pad. “Do you have the code?”
Sidney pulled out the piece of paper and read off the numbers as Williams punched them in. “10131993.”
The gate opened slowly. It gave Sidney just enough time to think about what a mistake this had been. The last time she’d been here was her first Christmas without her parents. It was so miserable, she always made sure to get an invitation to go on a trip somewhere with one of her friends for the holidays. Skiing in the Alps, cruising through the Eastern Caribbean, hiking in Patagonia, she didn’t care where it was, so long as it was far away from this place.
The cherry trees lining the drive up to the house were in full bloom, making it impossible to get a view of the house until they were right in front of it.
“Jumpin’ jellyfish,” Williams said. He followed the drive around the fountain and parked in front of the door. “Lake, I knew you came from money, but . . . dude. Does it come with valet?”
“Used to.”
A small round woman came out and stood on the steps. She squealed when Sidney got out of the car. “Oh, child! I thought for sure I’d never lay eyes on you again.”
She threw her arms around Sidney and smooshed her face with a kiss.
“Hi, Mrs. Black.”
“Don’t be silly, darlin’, you call me Jane.” The woman brushed Sidney off and fixed her hair while she looked her over from head-to-toe. “Look at you, all grown up. I’m so sorry about your poor grandfather. An explosion at the lab! Terrible. Well, if the gas lines had never been replaced, it’s no wonder. But, I thought for sure that man would outlive Satan himself. I see you have his ashes. Why don’t you come on in and have a snack before you get to all that? I’ve got tea and crumpets ready on the veranda. It’s such a lovely day out. Come on, then, don’t be shy.”
Sidney didn’t have the time to correct the housekeeper on whose ashes she was holding, even if she wanted to. Williams glanced at his partner and raised an eyebrow. “Veranda?”
“The back porch.” She elbowed him to follow the housekeeper inside.
A man with graying hair clicked his heels and gave a stiff nod as they entered. “Mr. Shaw, at your service. May I take your coats?”
“Mr. Shaw, really, is that necessary?” Mrs. Black shooed him away. “He likes to keep reminding us he was trained at Buckingham.”
“Well, I was,” Mr. Shaw said.
“It’s just Sidney. She doesn’t care about all that. She’s not like The Mister. Surprises me they’re even related. Poor child.”
Williams was too busy ogling the grand staircase to watch where he was going, and nearly collided with a suit of armor. Sidney caught his arm and steered him around it. He leaned in and whispered. “Where’s the entrance to the Bat Cave?”
“Shut up.” She pinched the back of his arm.
Mrs. Black led them through the breakfast room. “When you’re finished with tea, I’d be happy to give you a tour to help you get reacquainted with the house.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Black. I mean, um, Jane, but that won’t be necessary. I’m not staying,” Sidney said.
Williams gave her a look that clearly said he thought she was insane for not wanting to live in this house. They followed her outside onto the veranda where a spread was set up with tiny sandwiches, scones, fresh fruit, and cookies. There was another cafe table set up for them to sit and eat at. The centerpiece was a small bouquet of pale pink peonies, her favorite. The white table cloth billowed in the wind.
“I was so looking forward to having you here!”
“It’s way too much house for me, and I never felt comfortable here after . . . .”
“Of course, dear.” Mrs. Black patted her arm. “You poor thing. I understand completely. Your parents were so kind. It’s just awful what happened to them. Haunts me to this day. Such a tragedy. But you didn’t come here to think about that, did you now? Here, help yourselves and have a seat. I’ll go get the tea.”
“I appreciate it, but I think we’d better head down first,” Sidney
said.
“Right, of course dear.” Mrs. Black gave an understanding smile. “You do whatever you like.”
Williams looked to Sidney. “Lead the way.”
She cut a path through the thick sweeping lawn down towards the edge of the woods. There was a single oak tree that stood out from the rest of the tree line. It was surrounded on all sides by a short iron fence, about waist high. A bright white gravel path started at the gate and led up to a monument at the base of the tree.
A life-sized stone angel wept over a bright white marble tomb. She stood in front of it, reading the names of her parents and the days of their birth and death over and over. It still didn’t feel real, even after all this time.
She stepped forward and placed the urn in the center of the monument, right between her parents’ names. She and Williams stood there together, staring at it.
“It’s weird not having him around,” Williams said. “I keep expecting him to call any minute and say we’ve got a boggart infestation in a warehouse in Brooklyn or something.”
Sidney tried not to laugh but she couldn’t help it.
“Should we say something?” Williams asked.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. You didn’t bring a poem?” he asked.
Sidney gave him a dubious look, complete with raised eyebrow. “I think he’d be laughing at us right now. Standing here like two dumb asses.”
“Hey.” Williams elbowed her. “Who you calling a dumb ass?”
A black cat came out from around the tree and wound its way between her ankles, rubbing up against her leg. She leaned over and offered her hand. It blinked up at her with pretty gray eyes, while it sniffed her fingers and rubbed its face against her skin.
“It’s going to take some time, but things will be okay again. It won’t feel like this forever,” Williams said.
“I know. I’ll be fine. Eventually.” She smiled, but didn’t put much effort into it.
“Megan says the guest room is yours for as long as you need.”
“Thanks.” Sidney stood up again. “But, I’m not going back with you.”
“I thought you told the housekeeper you weren’t staying.”
“I’m not. Not here, anyway. I need time. There’s stuff I have to figure out. About myself, about Dimitrius, about a lot of things.” The cat meowed at her feet. “Mitch owned a cabin in New Hampshire. We would go up there sometimes and—”
Williams held up his hand. “I do not need to hear the sordid details of your love life.”
“That’s not what I was going to say.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He nudged the gravel with the toe of his shoe. “Do what you need to do Lake. I’ll hold down the fort.”
“Thanks, partner.”
“By the way, happy birthday.”
“Ugh. Everything bad happens around my birthday. Maybe I’ll start celebrating my half-birthday in October.”
The cat meowed.
“Kitty approves,” Williams said.
Sidney didn’t put much effort into her smile, but she attempted one at least. She took one last look at the weeping angel, then followed her partner out and closed the gate. The cat squeezed through the fence and followed at her heels.
The ache in her heart wasn’t quite as sharp as she always imagined it would be. Sidney had a feeling it would be sooner than twelve years before she returned.
“We get to stay for the food, right? Because those crumpets looked amazing,” Williams said as they trudged up the swath of green lawn.
“Leave it to you to think with your stomach,” she said. “Do you even know what a crumpet is?”
“Who cares? I just want it in my mouth.”
“That’s what she said.”
Acknowledgements
Bringing this book into the world has been a long, painstaking, exciting, and wonderful journey. There is absolutely no way I could have done it alone, nor would I have wanted to. Over the years, I’ve collected many people to whom I owe an enormous debt of gratitude. You very simply would not be holding this book in your hands without the following people.
To my husband and children: I’d thank you last as you are the most important, but since you are the first in my life today and always then it is only reasonable you shall be the first on this list. Thank you for putting up with me, and everything that comes along in this little package called Wife and Mother. Thank you for waking up to dirty dishes in the sink, and shoving piles of laundry aside before crawling into bed at night. Thank you for your support and encouragement in spite of and during the pursuit of this lofty dream of mine.
Angi Black: You are my other half. You encourage and inspire me every single day to be a better version of myself, as a writer and a human being. There are a million other things I could say, but we share a brain, so you already know what they are.
My Sareys…
Fox: I very simply and honestly could not get through a single day without you. Whether it’s picking me up when I’m down or lifting me up for a celebration, you always know exactly what I need and you’re always there by my side. You are the example of what it means to be a friend, and I’m so unbelievably grateful to have you.
Henning: You’re my sense and my savior. Thank you for being my objective point of view in writing and life in general. Thank you for your grammar wizardry. Thank you for so very many things. Most especially, Dimitrius would like to thank you for his nickname.
Guillory: Is it secret? Is it safe?
Julie Hutchings: I can’t even begin to express what a wonderful stroke of fate it was that you happened to need me at the same time I needed you. Thank you for teaching me so much about my characters and myself as a writer. You truly are the magic in my veins. I could sing your praises forever, but instead I’ll just say: Spagett.
Amanda Gardner: Thank you for inviting me to eat hamburgers, and then for tirelessly helping me hone my pitch, my ms— all the things. Thank you for being my biggest cheerleader. Your enthusiasm is my fuel. You’re a rockstar. You inspire me every single day, and I’m so happy to have you in my corner.
Josh Hewitt: You are my Zen Master. Thank you for putting up with my twisted way of pantsing out a plot. Thank you for making sense of things when I wasn’t able to. Thanks for helping me hike my way up above the trees so that I could finally see the whole forest.
Roy De La Rosa: Thank you for being the first—and for a very long time—the only person to say this book was something. Thank you for reading all those words that never even made it into these pages. No one would be holding this book if not for you.
Trisha Leigh: My tree hugging sister-friend, thank you for inspiring me to take this leap of faith called self-publishing. Thank you for giving me that one tiny spark of an idea I needed to see this whole book in a brand new light. Above all, thank you for your patience and kindness. You mean the world to me.
Laura Oliva: I seriously would not have survived California or my first years of motherhood without you. Thank you for holding my hand and answering all my crazy self-pub questions. Thank you for freaking out over my words. Thank you for so many lunches and laughs. Thank you for being an all around badass.
Megan Whitmer and Kelsey Macke: Thank you for being my village. I love you forever and always.
Kelli Moore: You helped me give birth to both a book baby and a human baby. Thank you for giving me a place to make words, for encouraging me along this wild ride, for the times you understood me best, and for the times you might not have understood my struggle but you gave me hugs and handed me a glass of wine anyway.
Kali Meister: Thank you for being the first person who understood me as a writer. Your support, and encouragement, and power are still a constant inspiration to me. You helped me find myself and my voice. You gave me the courage I needed to write for myself instead of anyone else, to write the book I wanted to read.
Dawn Bridges: Thank you for being my preschool partner. Thank you for the sweet tea fuel that kept me going. Thank
you for the trips to Target. Thank you for not laughing me down the hall when I handed you the first terribly, awful draft of this book.
Mandy Mospan and Martha Peribonio: Thank you for being my first readers, and loving my favorite scene as much as I do.
Pam Wallace and Kim Aina: Thank you for being my unwavering friends. Your love and support has been invaluable.
Gina Ciocca: Thank you for the donuts, and walking my baby across the floor so I could make words. I’m so happy we’re finally close enough to see each other on a regular basis.
Megan Orsini: You’re pretty and so are your words. I know this because I’m standing right behind you.
Carey Torgeson: I love you, wifey!
Megan Paasch: We pass the Bechdel Test with flying colors. Thanks for being my soul sister.
Derek Chivers: I really was going to include that Bourbon comment, and I totally lost it. Epic Fail. But know that it is awesome, and so are you!
Dave Lin: Thank you for letting me make your home Sidney’s home. And here’s to all the fun times we had there!
Lauri Goodling: Thank you for being my awesome writer friend. You challenge me in all the best ways, and inspire me to be better every day.
Britt: Thank you for being my first unsolicited fan.
Brenda Drake: If not for you, I would not have discovered the writing community I so desperately needed. Thanks to your unfailing desire to help others, I have felt loved and supported through this entire process by you and the people you ushered into my life. That experience is invaluable and I can never repay your kindness.
For those who taught me:
Judy Honeycutt and Talli Campbell: I don’t know how I would have survived my high school years without you both. Thank you for finding ways to encourage my talent and creativity, and for keeping me focused on the light at the end of the tunnel.
Bill Larsen: Thank you for the constant reminder that conflict is drama. You taught me how to fight for my words, and most importantly, to write words worth fighting for.
