Die for Me

“OLé!” PAPY SHOUTED, AS THE CORK LEFT THE bottle like a gunshot, causing all of us to jump and then cheer as he carefully poured the bubbly into tall, fluted glasses. He held his glass up in a toast, and the rest of us echoed his gesture.

 

“I would like to wish a happy seventeenth birthday to my princess, Kate. Here’s hoping that seventeen will be a magic year for you!”

 

“Hear, hear!” piped up Mamie, clinking her glass against mine. “Oh, to be seventeen again,” she sighed. “That was my age when I met your grandfather. Not that he seemed to pay any attention to me for the next year or so,” she said in a manner that was almost flirty.

 

“It was all part of my plan,” he retorted, winking at me. “And anyway, I’ve made up for lost time since then, haven’t I?”

 

Mamie nodded and leaned over to give him an affectionate kiss before clinking his glass. I leaned over to touch glasses with Papy, and then turned to Georgia, who held her drink in her left hand, since her right was still in a cast.

 

“Happy birthday, Katie-Bean,” she said, smiling warmly at me, and then looked down at the table, as if embarrassed. Georgia hadn’t been the same since “the accident,” as my grandparents called it. Though my wounds were easily hidden under winter clothes, Georgia had to explain the cast on her hand.

 

As she told it, she had stepped into the middle of a fight at the nightclub and had been knocked down and trampled. Papy and Mamie were so horrified that they had forbidden her to go to any more bars or clubs. Funnily enough, she didn’t seem to mind, and spent her nights now comparatively quietly, going to dinner parties or the cinema with a small number of friends. Since that night, she had sworn off men, vehemently vowing that she could no longer trust her instincts, but I knew that wouldn’t last for long.

 

She had come to my room a few times late at night, awaking me either for a cry or to distract her from one of her frequent nightmares. She wanted to know everything about the revenants. And I told her. I didn’t care about Jean-Baptiste’s injunction—I knew I could trust her. Now that there were no secrets between us, Georgia treated me with a newfound respect and acted like Vincent had hung the moon.

 

“Here’s to it being a happy year for both of us.” I smiled at her, and then turned to Vincent, who was awaiting his turn. He had shown up that night wearing a vintage black tuxedo, and I had almost fainted when I opened the door.

 

“Um, did I forget to tell you that, for once, my family isn’t wearing black tie to dinner?” I said, my sarcasm falling flat since I was bedazzled by his appearance. He looked like an old-fashioned movie star, his black hair flowing back in waves from his chiseled face. He just smiled mysteriously and refused to answer me.

 

Now our glasses touched, and he leaned over to give me a chaste peck on the lips, before saying, “Happy birthday, Kate.” His eyes twinkled mischievously as he gazed at me with that look that always made me melt: as if I were edible and he could barely restrain himself from taking a bite.

 

“You kids better get going,” said Mamie finally.

 

“Going where?” I asked, confused.

 

“Thanks for keeping my birthday plans a secret,” Vincent addressed my family. Then, turning to me, he said, “You’ll need this first,” and pulled a large white box from under the table. Blushing, I unfastened the ribbon and opened the package to see, carefully couched inside layers of tissue, a midnight blue silk fabric embroidered in an Asian pattern with tiny silver and red flowers and vines. I gasped. “What is it?”

 

“Well, take it out!” Mamie said.

 

I pulled the fabric out to hold it up. It was a stunning sleeveless gown, floor-length, with an Empire waist and straps that tied behind the neck. I almost dropped it, it was so exquisite.

 

“Oh, Vincent. I’ve never owned anything nearly this beautiful. Thank you!” I kissed his cheek. “But when am I ever going to wear it?” I said, placing the dress carefully back into the box.

 

He beamed. “Well, tonight, for starters. Go ahead and change. Georgia told me your size, so it should fit.”

 

Georgia had her smug grin back for once. It was good to see her looking like her old self, if just for a second. “I’ll come with you,” she said, and the two of us walked back to my room.

 

“When did he ask you about this?” I quizzed her as I pulled my clothes off and slipped the dress over my head.

 

Georgia buttoned the bodice up the back and tied the straps around my neck into a knot behind my hair. “Up, I think,” she said, twisting my long hair and attaching it with clips behind my head into a simple but elegant updo.