chapter 9
I wheeled into Dr. Walton’s office about ten minutes late. I’d forgotten my planner and had to go all the way back up to my apartment to get it. My visits to the old psychologist’s office were something that I both looked forward to and hated at the same time. On one hand, he was knowledgeable and kind, and it was nice to be able to tell someone how I was feeling- someone who would actually listen and give me constructive feedback, unlike my family. On the other hand, the visits reminded me that I wasn’t normal, that there were countless things that were hard for me, and that they would continue to be hard for me for the rest of my life.
As an added bit of stress, I was still trying to figure out how much to tell him about Peter. I couldn’t exactly explain most of the reasons why my relationship with the vampire was difficult, but still, maybe he could help.
Dr. Walton sat in his big leather chair, jotting a note in a manila folder. I made my way to the desk and he looked up with a warm smile. “Hello melody, how are things?”
I looked at the blue veins in the back of his age spotted hands and wondered, as I had a million times, what his life was like outside the office. What would it be like to live to a ripe old age without needing mental help? Most people probably would have been more comfortable speaking to someone closer to their own age, but not me. For some reason, I always found his age comforting. I soaked in his calming presence like a sponge. He had the ability to make all of my problems seem smaller, less immediate.
We started every session with a sort of checklist. “How are your headaches,” he asked, pen and chart at the ready. I pressed my lips together, trying to remember. “I think they’ve been better, for the most part. I don’t have them as often, but when I do, they’re still pretty bad. Probably an eight out of ten.” He scribbled in his chart and frowned at me, his wild white eyebrows drawing together.
“You didn’t bring your notebook. Have you been using it to write things down?” I was supposed to be tracking these things and brining it with me to sessions so that I was more accurate.
I shifted in my seat. “I forgot it in the car. I try to write in it every day… but sometimes I forget.” Okay, not sometimes, all the time. Especially when I’m distracted- like, say, when my handsome new friend declares himself a vampire, then starts telling people he’s my boyfriend, then treats me to mind blowing sex- that kind of thing.
The doctor’s thick fingers paused in their scratching and he peered at me over the top of his wire-rimmed glasses. “How about the fatigue?”
I licked my lips and considered saying it was fine, but in the end, I told the truth. I’m not a very good liar. “Worse. It’s way worse lately.”
He nodded and jotted it down. “How is your mood? Have you been having anymore bouts of depression since we talked last?”
I shook my head. “None,” I said truthfully. “I’ve been… really happy.”
He arched his eyebrows at me, but looked relieved. “That is good news,” he said jovially. Putting the chart aside, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms loosely over his middle, settling in for the real therapy, and looking like nothing so much as a professional version of Santa Claus.
“What has changed?” His voice was even and calm, as he led me to explore my own head. I shrugged and he tried again. “Melody, you are more tired, and when you have headaches, they are worse, but your mood has improved drastically. It seems like maybe you are doing something different?” I was silent. “Maybe something you love, but it’s tiring? Do you have a new hobby?”
He knew, damn him. I glared at him, suddenly feeling betrayed. He knew I wasn’t going to say I’d taken up bingo and found it draining. “Mom called you didn’t she?”
His blueberry eyes crinkled up at the corners and he laughed. “About an hour ago,” he admitted. “She has some concerns about your new relationship, and its effect on your decision making.”
I rolled my eyes. “She has concerns about me ever having a real life,” I grumbled under my breath.
He said nothing, only regarded me with that patient expression. Fine. “I started seeing someone. I met him on the subway one morning on the way to work. We were friends for a while before we started dating. He’s absolutely perfect. Mom and Dad hate his guts.”
Dr. Walton leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk, still calm, but interested. “Why are your parents concerned, do you think?”
I sighed. “They love me and they don’t want anyone to take advantage of me,” I parroted. We’d had this discussion before. “But,” I said, pointing a warning finger at him, “they treat me like a kid.”
He wasn’t ruffled. “What kinds of things to you and your boyfriend do together?”
I shrugged and averted my gaze. “We eat lunch together in the park most weekdays. He works near the library. We watch movies together. Sometimes he takes me to the hospital with him when he goes to volunteer.”
He nodded. “It sounds like you’re getting out more because of him.”
I tried to relax. “I am. But he isn’t like me. He’s not human.”
Dr. Walton laughed and sat back. “Some people have the ability to make us feel that way, don’t they? I know it can be hard to keep up when you have obstacles. He understands that though, doesn’t he? Do you feel like he pushes you to do things that are exhausting, or that you don’t want to do?”
I shook my head firmly. “He is very considerate of me. He never pressures me to do anything, and he…well he makes me feel better about myself.” I grinned at him. “You’d love some of the things that come out of the man’s mouth about accepting myself, blah, blah, blah….”
The doctor pushed his glasses up and regarded me seriously. “Are you intimate with him?”
I stared at him. I wasn’t really surprised or embarrassed, at least not that much. I was used to everyone knowing all of my business all the time. It came with the territory of not being in charge of your own life. I sighed. “Yes,” I said tiredly. “And before you even ask: no, he never pressured me. I’m the one who wanted to have sex, and yes I’m safe about it, and no, that isn’t the only thing we ever do together.” Though, sometimes I wished it was.
Dr. Walton smiled at me. “Good. I’m glad you are in a healthy relationship.”
It was nice to hear that. Someone was glad I was getting laid. He wasn’t going to give me some ridiculous spiel. I wanted to throw my hands up and praise God for creating someone who acknowledged that relationships and sex were a part of life.
Then he had to go and ruin it. “Do your parents know that you are intimate with him?”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t talk about that stuff with them. Of course they probably just know he’s forcing me into kinky sex acts and stealing my social security disability checks, the fact that he works at a successful law firm notwithstanding.” I could just imagine telling Mom how far our relationship had progressed. She’d probably drop dead on the spot.
He sighed. “Melody, they are your legal guardians. They have a right to make sure you aren’t being taken advantage of. And as parents, they will also be concerned about you.”
I clenched my fists, frustration and anger rising through me like smoke from a flame. “So let’s change that then.”
He took a deep breath, but didn’t say anything, just waiting for me to start the conversation. “You said before that I wasn’t there yet,” I said tersely. “What about now? I want to be in control of my own life.”
The old man took out my chart and leafed through it to look at my injury date and his prior notes. “Honestly,” he said slowly. “If you petitioned for guardianship, I would have no reason not to support your independence.”
I felt my shoulders drop as my tension eased. I was there. It was a possibility. I could get my life back, and not have someone constantly telling me I was too brain injured to make my own decisions. It was a short-lived feeling.
“I still don’t think you should do it right now.” He was calm as ever, as he crushed my hopes. “Your parents would never agree. You would have to petition the court for your independence. There will be all sorts of harsh feelings on both sides. I think you need to consider that even though you might be ready, your parents are not.” He sighed. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I advise you to wait a little bit longer. Let your parents have time to adjust to the thought. You need them in your life. Don’t alienate them.”
If I didn’t want to lose my family completely, then I had to continue to put up with them running my life. I couldn’t do anything without their approval. I had to put up with their disapproving looks, their constant interference in everything I did. I took a deep breath, fighting the helpless, trapped feeling that was engulfing me.
*****
I awkwardly curled my legs under me and leaned against the arm of the couch. The microwave hummed to life in the kitchen, and the explosion of popping kernels grew loud in the small apartment. Peter and I had instituted a weekly movie night. I thought it ironic that he was always in charge of the snacks. The microwave beeped and I could hear him moving around in the kitchen, arranging things and humming to himself. Nothing was as comforting as a content vampire. I always felt really relaxed around him. Too bad he had to go and ruin it by telling me that it was all due to the hormones he naturally exuded to calm his prey.
Peter glided into the room and set a big bowl of popcorn and a can of soda on the TV tray in front of me. I smiled my gratitude and he went to slip the D.V.D. into the player.
“You seem happy,” he said, eyes on the TV.
I smiled. “We used to have movie night when I was younger…before.” My smile wavered and I reached to take a piece of fluffy popcorn. “We aren’t really a family anymore. Sometimes that’s the thing I miss the most.” Peter made his way to the couch, where he sat cross-legged beside me. He reached out a long arm and snatched the popcorn bowl, placing it in his lap.
“That must be hard,” he said, throwing a piece of popcorn into the air and effortlessly catching it in his mouth. The crunch of the popcorn sounded louder than it should have.
“I’m sorry,” I said guiltily. “I suppose it’s selfish of me to whine about my family problems when you don’t even have a family.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I have a family.” I was trying to open the pull-tab on my soda. He took it from me and popped it open. “The coven is my family.”
I took my soda back and took a swig, feeling my eyes water at the effervescence. “Are you really that close? I mean…that blonde woman and the man who attacked you in the park, they’re part of your coven aren’t they?” I scooted toward him and snatched the bowl from his grasp. The cool brush of his hands was a sharp contrast to the heated plastic.
Peter gave me a look for hogging the popcorn. It was one of the rare human foods he enjoyed. Granted, we had to get the all-natural kind or he bitched about all the additives he could taste, but he said he enjoyed the texture. He picked up the D.V.D. remote and pretended to be unaffected by my thievery. “Cynthia and Viktor are like my younger siblings,” he said dryly. “Just because we are a family, doesn’t mean we always see eye to eye. We do love each other.”
I saw his point. I loved Chelsea- most of the time- but she was a real pain in the ass. I’d slam her into a concrete bridge some days, if that were an option.
I nodded when he hovered the selector over the widescreen option, and Peter continued. “Our coven isn’t like other covens.” He considered for a moment. “I guess you would call us orphans. Most master vampires either create the members of their covens or take them in and bind them.” He shrugged. “Leah doesn’t believe in binding the will of her people. Some, like me, were left to her when the previous master died. Others came to her for help when they were abandoned or lost their masters. I suppose you could say we are all adopted.”
They didn’t have family ties, but their kinship was in their lack of ties. I thought Leah was a very smart woman not to bind them. “If the coven is like your family, why is it that only those two pick on you?”
He sighed. “Cynthia and Vicktor are Leah’s children, the only coven members that she created, and are therefore bound to her.”
“What you are doing is pissing Leah off, so it pisses them off too?” I frowned. It seemed a bit extreme and melodramatic to me.
Peter slid close, putting an arm around. Then he leaned down and blew in my ear. I was so distracted by his nearness that I loosened my grip on the popcorn bowl. He snatched it with ease, sitting back with a laugh at my betrayed expression. “They are brother and sister,” he said, continuing our discussion. “They were orphans at the time they were turned, having only each other to rely on in this world. I think they were living like a couple of wild children.” He shrugged. “Whatever the circumstances, Leah came upon them just after their car smashed into a very large tree. She told me about it afterwards.” His expression was wry. “She acted without thinking, which is rare for her. She said they were each so worried about the other that neither one of them realized they were both dying. She wanted to keep Cynthia. She was due to turn someone and she really wanted to have a female companion, a sister.” He smiled softly. “She saw the two of them together and couldn’t bear to separate them. She knew she couldn’t let one live and one die. She should have let them both go, but she didn’t.”
I gaped at him. I wouldn’t have pictured Cynthia or Viktor to have such tender sides. “But a vampire is only allowed to turn someone every hundred years, right?”
He nodded. “Generally, yes. We are expected to contribute at least that often, but no more than that. We have to be very careful of our population levels.” If there were too many vampires…I really didn’t want to think about it.
“She got away with it?”
He nodded. “She was a master vampire by then, and a new coven leader. “As long as it was only the two, the elders looked the other way.” He chuckled. “It didn’t hurt that our previous master was loved by many of the elders, and that she favored him so much.” I reached into the popcorn bowl and he gave me a look, watching for any sneaky moves. “Leah didn’t just give them life; she gave them life together, for a very long time to come. They are fiercely loyal to her.”
I nodded. “Uh… are we going to watch that?” I pointed at the TV. If we didn’t stop talking family ties and start watching the movie, I wouldn’t be able to make it through the whole thing. Neurofatigue would kick in half way through and I would lose the whole plot.
Peter wasn’t offended, used to my quirks by now. He ruffled my hair and pressed play. He didn’t resist very much when I slid the popcorn back over to my lap, instead using the excuse to snuggle close. I sighed. We might as well have kept talking. I wasn’t going to get anything from the movie now, no matter how hard I concentrated. All I could think of was how nice it felt to be pressed up against him. He laughed softly to himself and I shot him a look. He knew exactly what he was doing to me, and had not an ounce of regret.