by Amanda Byrd
“So, uh, which vehicle did we pack the air mattress in?” she asked, lost in the beauty of this house.
“Yours, Miranda. You said you’d probably get here first, remember? Anyway, I’ll go get everything out of Night Chariot while you drool,” Teddy said laughing.
“I am not drool- okay, fine, just remember to bring the paper towels so I can wipe my face. And you can’t honestly tell me this house, our home, isn’t the most beautiful creation to ever come into our lives, I mean, next to Night Chariot.”
“Hah, you really do love your vehicles. Sometimes I think more than me,” he said, shaking his head and walking out to start unpacking Night Chariot while Miranda roamed the house in awe and admiration.
It’s a little strange you named your SUV, Miranda. No, it’s not. What would make you say such an awful thing? Moron. Hey, you guys realize I never know which one of you is doing the talking right? Do you just prefer it that way? It’s like you have a single voice for two monsters. We do though. Oh, well that would have been nice to know a long time ago, jerks. Anyway, I named the SUV ‘Night Chariot’ because she is the color of night and is a form of chariot that is one hell of a beast, so to speak. Granted, she’s not a beast like us, she’s a beast in other ways.
Wandering the first floor, marveling over the wood-look tile—the color of natural timber ash—she took in the office first. It had a hand-carved oak door frame with a very solid light color stained oak door, with a plaque reading ‘Do Not Enter’. This was the door that would always be locked to her patients, as it led to the inside of the house and she preferred they, frankly, stayed the hell out of her personal business. Opening the door, she saw—with her werepire vision—the built-in bookshelves of smooth, solid oak that started about one foot off the ground and stopped about two feet from the ceiling, which was nine feet high. This was one of the few first-floor rooms that had nothing above it except a crawlspace and a roof. The windows were large but sparse, only three, and shaped like half a hexagon. What do you call that again? A picture window? Why in the nine hells would you have a picture window, Miranda? It seems out of place, don’t you think? No, I don’t. Though, window coverings won’t be an issue. Check this out! Pushing a button on the wall, the windows began to further darken as the cellular blinds were built in and remote controlled. I’ve always wanted windows like this and I finally have them! In the whole house! Talk about energy efficient! She laughed out loud at that thought. Looking to her left, she saw the massive set of double doors that led to the front walk and small parking area for patients. Those doors were sold oak also, stained so dark brown, they almost looked black. Just what I asked Frank for. She walked over to the doors and turned her back on them, taking in the whole of the room. It was painted a comfortable shade of gray. Closing her eyes, she envisioned her office fully furnished, with a mahogany desk, a few comfortable armchairs and a chaise lounge, all matching the color of the walls, some artwork—preferably from local artists, except ‘The Great Red Dragon’ copy she coveted—and maybe a nice area rug or two with grays and deep reds. When she opened her eyes, she noticed she wore a larger than usual smile. She was truly proud she had come this far. Ah, just like Dr. Lecter.
Exiting through, and locking behind her, the door to the main house, Miranda walked deeper into the darkness. On her left was a formal dining room, to the right was a door, whether a bedroom or closet she was not yet sure. She went first to the formal dining room. The opening was square and the room itself an over-sized rectangle; large enough to fit a dark mahogany table that sat up to ten comfortably, with one window that had the same built-in cellular blinds as the office, also remote control. Miranda did not have to close her eyes to envision the dinners that would be had here. Maybe we can pull a Dr. Lecter and have fancy dinners with just one or two people in this room. Oh, how glorious! We’d even be eating people! Oh, Miranda, you are a genius! There will be no people fed from this table. Miranda laughed out loud at the irony of that statement and went back on her way exploring the house. Turning around to face the door that had been to her right, she opened it and flicked the switch just inside on the left wall. Oh! I forgot we had power. The room was intended as a guest room, with its own private bathroom. The walls were painted in a more neutral shade of gray, lighter than the rest of the house. Gray brought a feeling of comfort, which is why Miranda had chosen all bedrooms, except the master and including her office, to be painted gray. It was warm and inviting, with two windows against the back wall, the bathroom off to the left side of the room. Meandering through the room to the bathroom, her jaw dropped at how well a job Frank and his crew did. The shower was floor to ceiling tile with two showerheads, enclosed in glass with a half-wall covered in tile and topped with a glass separator between it and the jacuzzi tub. There was a double sink vanity, mirror that went all the way across the wall between the cabinets and the end of the granite countertop. To the left was an oversized walk-in closet with a custom organizational system. Every bedroom in the house mirrored this one, apart from the master, which was upstairs.
She walked out the door from the bathroom to the hallway, turning on more lights as she walked. There were two more bedrooms on this side of the house, both looking the same as the first, so she turned around and walked back toward the main entry door and off into the other side of the house to inspect the other two bedrooms. Making sure everything was in perfect working order, from the lights, to the blinds, to the faucets, she was pleased; more so than she had ever been. Man, that Frank and his team are impressive. Let’s head back to the kitchen and check out the living room. Under the double staircase that led up both sides of the foyer sat the half bathroom. It was painted a color called lemongrass and matched the sink, toilet, and tile, again, perfectly. Back out into the hallway that led to the main kitchen, and eat-in kitchen, it was an open floor plan to expose the living room as well. The oak cabinets and black granite countertops set off the two shades of gray in the living room in a brilliant way. Off the hallway, on the right between the half bathroom and the kitchen was another door. It led to the utility room where the front-loader washer and dryer were already set up. The room also had two lightly stained oak cabinets above the washer and dryer, the opposite wall held matching cabinets and a black granite countertop suitable for ironing and folding laundry. Additionally, this was the room Miranda and Teddy would come through to enter the house through the three and a half car garage. Of course, they only had the two vehicles, but Miranda really wanted to go all out on this house.
By the time Miranda finished enjoying the work Frank and his team had done downstairs, Teddy already had their bags and air mattress set up in the master bedroom, which was upstairs. Venturing up the right-side staircase since it was the closest to where she was, Miranda really drooled over the craftsmanship of the iron banister and wood-look tiles. These simple things were all she ever truly wanted—something designed by her, with the assistance of an architect, masterfully and meticulously pieced together. Pausing at the top of the stairs to admire the simple yet beautiful brushed nickel five-bulb chandelier, Miranda felt, for what may have been the first time in her life, a real, deep, true sense of pride. Her accomplishments as a therapist in California had provided this masterpiece of a home for her and Teddy and that she simply could not ignore. She turned around to see a loft directly in front of her, sprawling to the left, the bedroom off to the right. She contemplated putting a reading nook up in this loft, complete with a nice, cozy double chaise set-up, and plenty more books to fill the built-in shelving.
She turned right and headed for her bedroom and was delighted to see the yellow and gray colors she wanted, how she wanted, while watching Teddy with a loving smile, as he turned on the pump for the air mattress. Their furniture they were moving from California would be there by eight o’clock Wednesday morning, the movers had promised, and they had more furniture to pick out after Miranda’s meetings with Frank the builder and the stone installer interviews to
finish her pillars at the entrance to the driveway.
“Teddy, I’m gonna take a walk outside. I want to see how the outside lights look in case I need to have Frank work on them tomorrow. Be back in a few.”
“Aren’t you at all tired?”
“Yes, but if Frank will be here, he’s gonna have to know what I want fixed now versus what can be handled later. I’ll be right back. No humans tonight . . . unless one happens by,” with a mischievous smile she turned from the bedroom, walked down the stairs, turned the outside lights on, and walked out the front door. She walked ten or so feet away from the house so she could get a better view of how the external lighting worked out. To her surprise, Frank was much more competent than she had realized. The lights were half in-ground, half out and pointed up toward the roof. Oh, that roof! I’m gushing! By the nine hells this man and his crew are better than I thought! The dark grays and blacks of the brick covered house were accentuated by spire-like points strategically placed throughout the roof, also in varying shades of gray shingles. The LED lighting made the house take on a life of its own; looking at what could be mistaken for a creepy dark house but was nothing more than what Miranda requested. Gray was not a depressing color, in fact, it was quite the opposite. She found in her therapy sessions, gray was the most comforting to her patients, and herself. Miranda did, however, have one patient call it a sterile color, so she changed the hue and his mind changed.
Taking her leave to go back inside and get a full day’s sleep—she was part vampire, after all—before her meeting and interviews, Miranda opened the big navy blue front door and stepped inside the house, closing and locking the door behind her.
Four
Opening her eyes was difficult because the sun was in the process of setting—or was it rising?—she could not tell. The yellows and oranges made Miranda’s eyes burn for the first time in a few years. Clearly, Teddy must have assumed she would not wake until after the sun had long set. Is it still freaking Tuesday? Seven hells, this is the furthest thing from okay!
“TEDDY! Is it still Tuesday?”
Only silence answered her.
“TEDDY!” she yelled, much louder this time, “TEDDY! Is it Tuesday?”
“No! It’s Wednesday. Six in the morning. Don’t you have meetings today?”
Shit, he’s right. Let’s see how difficult getting out of bed is. Hahaha! Miranda, you’ve been asleep for twenty-some hours, you know it’s gonna suck. Just get up.
Rolling off the air mattress and hitting the wood-look tile was not a pleasant feeling to wake up to. Miranda did, however, feel well rested. Leaping to her feet was a newly learned skill, as well, thanks to her werewolf abilities. She had mastered the leap with such grace, no one would have ever truly known she had fallen in the first place. Not that anyone was watching except the other two parts of herself. For a moment, she considered naming them, then realized how ridiculous that would be, given they resided inside her. It was too early for anyone to be there for meetings yet, so she strode down the hall and stairs in all her naked beauty. Miranda, has anyone told you how beautiful a specimen you are? Humans aren’t typically so pleasing to the eye to live in, but you . . . you are just the cat’s meow! Miranda blushed and thanked the two morons out loud.
“What did you say?”
“Not talking to you, Teddy. Hey, there’s no one here yet, right?”
“No, why?”
“I’m naked, that’s all. The way I prefer to be. Oh! That makes me want to have Frank and his boys install a pool and hot tub! You game?”
“Sure, why not.”
Once she reached the bottom of the stairs, Miranda lost her orientation, but quickly realized no matter which way she went around the bottom of the stairs, she would end up directly in the kitchen area. She chose to turn left around the wall, practically drooling over the scent of the morning bean juice she loved so much. Looking at the counter, she noticed Teddy had taken all of the small kitchen appliances, silverware, plates, mugs, glasses, and other assorted required items out of their vehicles and put things in their proper homes—or did he? Miranda took the steaming mug Teddy had poured for her and began rifling through drawers and cabinets while sipping her bean juice only to find Teddy had learned her organizational preferences well.
As she opened and closed drawers and doors, she smelled the cooking of breakfast—she was not exactly paying attention to Teddy directly due to her level of shock. Clearly, Teddy had gone to the grocery store before she woke up. He was making eggs, hers sunny side up—or dippy eggs, as she called them—bacon, sausage, and hash browns. It all smelled so delicious.
“Teddy?”
“Yeah?”
“Riddle me this: how the hell did it take you ten freaking years to learn what you should have in one?”
Teddy, genuinely confused, glared at Miranda.
“Okay, maybe I should put this another way. How did you know exactly where everything’s homes were?”
“Oh, well, from being with you for ten years, duh.”
“Don’t effing duh me. Two weeks ago, you put the wrong pots and pans in the wrong place, dumbass.”
“Okay, maybe I took pictures before we packed to come home.”
“Bullshit, man. You had no clue what this house would look like. I believe your exact words were ‘It’s your house, design it however you want it’,” laughing the whole time.
“Wha- well, dammit Miranda,” as he also started laughing, “I’m just trying to help here and you gotta go and make fun of me. Yous a mean bitch.”
He was joking, of course. Teddy knew better than to piss Miranda off. Even before she became a werepire-human, she was a force to be reckoned with. Miranda had a way about her, verbal decimation she called it, because she could shut anyone up at any time. Teddy likened it to Jedi Mind Powers every time. The two of them carried on their banter for a few more minutes, including a playful shove from Miranda before she headed back to the stairs to get ready for her meetings. But first, she wanted to eat her breakfast.
“So, I’m thinking to go to London in about two weeks. I need that castle and, seriously, I don’t know how the realtor over there has managed to keep it on a hold of sorts until I get there to see it.”
“Oh,” came Teddy’s disappointed reply.
“Well do you even want to go?”
“I do.”
“Okay, it’s settled. I’ll book the tickets once I’m done getting ready.”
Miranda’s plate consisted of two dippy eggs, a few sausages, a few slices of bacon, and a heap of hash browns. She ate it so fast, even remembering to chew, which was a bit unlike her (she had a habit of choking on or wearing her human food if she ate too fast). Even Teddy was shocked because she beat him to the finish, which never happened. Teddy took the dirty dishes to the sink to rinse them before putting them in the dishwasher then began to clean everything else up from breakfast. Wandering off to the garage where the warmer was stored, Miranda opened it and grabbed a bag. She bit a hole in it, sucking the blood out as if it was an adult Capri Sun, minus the straw. Who can actually get that damn straw in without ripping the whole pouch open, anyway? She finished the bag by the time she left the garage, heading for the stairs.
Calling for the cats as she walk-hopped up the stairs, she hummed a familiar tune that she considered one of her “happy songs”, Can’t Stop the Feeling. Dancing while walking up stairs and carrying hot coffee was not something she had ever mastered but maintained every intention to do, especially now with how nimbly and gracefully she was able to move. Even better? I won’t age a day past the thirty-nine years I am now. SWEET! I’m gonna look amazing forever! Yeah, until you find that cure you want. Then you’re in a whole new world of shit, woman. Not only will you whither and shrivel, but you will die instantly. You will feel all of it happening, too. What? No. You’re lying. We are not. You may even sprout fur without trying. Stop it. St
op it right now, dammit. I don’t need you two buzzkills ruining my day. But thanks for letting me know what my end will be. She let out a great sigh and wondered why the cats had not come to her call. They always did. Meh, I’ll go looking for them after I get ready.
It was true enough; she was searching for a cure. A cure that would not kill her human form. But they both just told me I’d wither away and die anyway, so what good is a cure if I’m only going to die anyway? I’ll figure it out, I always do. Determined to find a cure that would allow her to stay whatever age she was when she found, or formulated, it was a priority, though she knew it would more than likely take a few years to get it right. Test subjects would be needed and that was another reason why she had two offices.
Still excitedly walking and humming, she made her way into the master bathroom, set her coffee on the granite countertop, and walked into the closet. She stood there, just staring at her bags. They were organized by her standards and more than one contained clothes. She opened all three and started pulling out everything she needed—a blow dryer, shampoo and conditioner, her toothbrush, body wash, all the shower accessories, and makeup. Now that it was time for her to figure a comfortable outfit, she needed to consult with all three weather apps she had on her phone, since not a single one was ever correct, it was usually a combination of two, yet today, all three matched up. Back into the closet, pausing for a large gulp of her beloved black bean juice, to pick out an outfit. She found her favorite leggings easily enough, but the matching top was in another bag. Damn, I thought I packed well enough. Guess not. Oh well, it’s all being taken out later today or tomorrow anyway and put in proper homes in this huge, perfectly set up closet I designed. Hell, Miranda, don’t go taking all the credit. You did have an architect’s help. Sure I did, but this closet was entirely me, you shit.
