chapter Ten
Ava
He was being completely unreasonable. I mean, all I'm asking him to do is make me immortal and make me a promise. Piece of cake.
“I need to go down and check on Mom. ” I mean, I'd just gotten him back, and I didn't want to take the chance that he'd go even a few feet away. I wasn't needy enough to ask him to come with me. “Just stay here.” I put my hands up like he's a dog I'm asking to stay.
“I will wait.” He's always saying that. I always believe it.
I dash down the stairs. The freaking door is still open. I go and shut it. Good thing he hadn't broken it. It would have been fun to try and explain that to Dad.
I can hear the radio on in her room. She doesn't have a television in there. We might have to get her one, though, when she gets sicker. One thing at a time.
“Mom?”
“Hey, baby.” She's lying on her side, staring out the window. The curtains are open and the woods is beyond. There's a birdfeeder just outside with two goldfinches perched on it.
“Look. You almost never see two at once.” We watch the birds for a moment. Well, she watches the birds and I watch her. She looks more relaxed.
“How are you doing?” It's a different question than how are you feeling.
“I'm okay, I guess. It was just a lot. Visually.” She makes a gesture with her hands that I think is meant to indicate Peter's wings.
“Yeah, I know. The first time he didn't warn me either. He just busted them out.” That's not exactly the truth, but I want to make her feel better.
“It was quite breathtaking. He looked like an angel.” My vampire angel.
“Yes, he does.” I blush. Except for the black feathers. They make him look like a fallen angel.
She finally turns toward me. “What are you going to do now?”
“It's kind of complicated. We're just going to bask in the non-painfulness for a little while.” Forever.
“Why did he go?”
“He was meeting with someone.” I still need the details for myself.
“Was it some sort of noctalis meeting?”
“Sort of. He had to ask him something.” It sounds really dumb out loud.
“I think I need some time to think about it. I'll probably have more questions.” Her hands inch toward the notepad that sits on her nightstand. I have an identical pad in my own room. I hadn't used it in a while. Maybe it would help Peter and I figure things out. Or help the case for me becoming a noctalis.
“Sure. Can I get you anything?”
“No, I'm fine. Looks like our day got kind of hijacked.” She fingers the edge of the notepad.
I give her a swift one-arm hug. “We'll do it again soon. I promise.”
“Okay, baby.” She looks back out the window and I can tell she wants to be alone. I close the door softly and go back upstairs to Peter. He's also staring out my window. He looks so good.
“How is she?” he says without looking away from the window. They're so much alike sometimes.
“I think she's coming to terms with it. I did. Tex did. I don't see why she should be any different.” He's trying to distract me.
“I'm not giving up.” I prop my chin on his chest, tipping my head back so I can stare at him.
“I know. I am hoping I can find something that will change your mind.”
I take a deep breath.
“If you want to go for a little bit you can. I'm fine now.” Oh this is such a lie.
“I cannot leave you.” Well that's good because I don't want him to anyway. At least we're on the same page with that.
“You can. I'll be fine. I need to start making dinner anyway. Oh god, the laundry.” I slap my forehead. With everything else, I'm pretty sure we'd left a wet load in the washer.
He thinks for a moment. “I could help you.”
“You know how to do laundry?” This is the first I've heard of it.
He blinks. “You could teach me.”
“Okaayyy.” It sounds like one of the last things he'd want to do, but he attempts a smile and kisses my forehead. The smile's not great, but not bad either.
We go downstairs and find that, yes, there is a load of wet laundry in the washer. I move it over to the dryer as Peter watches like I'm splitting atoms or creating a Van Gogh replica.
“What do you do when your clothes get dirty?” I've always wondered, but felt rude asking.
Blink.
“Get new clothes.”
“Where?” Somehow I can't picture Peter walking into the Gap and coming out with a polo shirt and khakis.
“I steal them.”
“Oh. You should let me buy some for you. I don't feel right about you stealing.”
“I leave them something in return.”
Okay, now my curiosity is piqued. “Like what?”
“Old coins.”
“I guess that's one way of doing it. If you want, I could sell some of the coins for you. Or I could just buy clothes for you. I have plenty of money.” Another white lie. But if Peter needed money for clothes, I'd definitely spot him a couple hundred bucks.
“I cannot take blood and money from you.” What's mine is his.
“I'll give you both those things and you know it.” I start piling more clothes into the washer. Dear god, please let there be no underwear. I don't care so much about Peter seeing my clean underwear, but dirty is another matter. It's way too intimate. I decide to drop the money issue, for now.
“So you put in enough to fill up the machine. You have to put the heavy things like jeans spaced out, so they don't all get to one spot and stop it from spinning.” He listens as if I'm describing the most fascinating thing ever. I let him pour the detergent in and crank the dial. The machine guns on. It's really old. Although, not as old as Peter.
“That's it,” I say, flourishing my hands.
“That was not very hard.” He sounds disappointed.
“Yeah, but when you have to do it all the time, it's a pain in the ass.” I have a crazy thought. Well, not so crazy. If Peter wants to help me out with stuff, I'm not going to stop him. Especially if he wants to do dishes. Or clean the lint trap in the dryer. Or a million other little chores that don't get done anymore. I ask him if he's game.
“Of course.” As if he was waiting for me to ask. How could I not love him?
It seems crazy to be doing little mundane tasks after what happened this morning. But what else are we going to do? This stuff needs to be done, and I could use a hand to do it. I ask him once again if he's okay with it and all I get is a blink. Good enough for me.
I show him a sorts of things like changing lightbulbs and the wonders of Clorox wipes. He takes it all in, and I can tell he's paying attention.
“I'm not totally boring you, am I? I know this isn't riveting stuff.” I'd just shown him the amaziosity of the microwave.
“Anything human is interesting to me.” I find that impossible to believe. Vomiting is not interesting. Neither is doing taxes.
“If you say so.”
Jamie calls me during his study hall.
“Hey you.”
“Hey, Ave. I just wanted to see if you were okay.” My stomach clenches with guilt. A rumble outside makes me look up. It sounds just like...
“Oh my god, what are you doing here?” He hangs up and I rush to the door. And remember that Peter is here. Crap. But he's already ahead of me.
“I will be on the roof.”
“You don't have to leave.” Thinking about him being on the roof makes me feel like I'm going to die all over again.
“You need to be with your friend. I am right here. I will not leave. If you need me, I will know.” He takes my hands and presses a kiss to my hair. And then he tugs away and is up the stairs. Jamie knocks on the door. I glance from the stairs to the door. But I'd let Jamie down so many times. Suck it up, Ava.
I answer the door, and I can't help the smile that spreads across my face. His own face beams, and I notice he's got a shopping bag on one arm and my homework tucked under the other.
“Jamie.”
“How are you feeling?” I step aside so he can come in. His smell slices through the air.
“Why don't we go outside? I could use a little sunshine.” And fresh air. Fresh non-blood-scented air.
“Are you sure? I don't want you to get sicker.”
“I'm fine,” I say, yanking his arm out the door. He's too much of a gentleman not to follow my orders. He drops the bag and homework before I tug him toward my mother's flower beds. The tulips are just starting to peek their little heads out of the ground. I reach down and brush a leaf off one poor little bud. I'd have to come out this weekend and do some work with Mom.
I plunk myself down on one of the Adirondack chairs. Jamie takes the other. He's studying me as if I hold the answer to life. His face is so serious.
“Ave?” he finally says. I shade my face with my hand. Uh oh.
“Yeah?”
“You're not sick, are you?” I open my mouth to lie. But I can't do it anymore.
“I'm not sick. But Mom is.”
Peter
I wait on the roof, trying to give Ava privacy. But I hear every word. I hear her blood rush as she confesses her mother's illness to Jamie. Her pain at hiding the truth from him had finally become too much.
“I've wanted to tell you so long. I just... couldn't.” Tears roll down her skin. Jamie breathes steadily next to her. Listening. Deciding what to say. She picks at the paint on the chair, composing herself. Despite her pain at saying the words, an immense sense of peace engulfs her, and, in turn, engulfs me in a glorious relief. The desire for his blood evaporates from her.
“Oh Ave.” The chair protests as he gets up. Their clothes rustle as he folds her into an embrace. That simple gesture breaks her. Their hearts beat in opposition, synching for one moment. Sounds erupt from her. Tearing, painful sounds that rip at my ears. I want more than anything in that moment to go to her. But I stay where I am. Listening.
And then a sound I do not expect. Laughter.
“I can't believe I finally told you. I haven't told anyone. Not even Tex.” The sound comes out of her like a rushing river. I delight in the sound.
Jamie is as shocked as I am. But I hear him smile as he wipes the tears from her cheeks.
“I'm glad you told me.”
“I'm sorry that I waited so long. It's just that with Cassie and everything, I didn't want to put more on you.” He pulls her into a hard hug, almost stealing her breath.
“This is what I'm here for. This. Right here. Being here for you. Because we're there for each other. We're family.”
“I love you, James.”
“I love you too, Ave.” They hug again. And then Ava makes a joke about getting snot on his shirt and the moment is broken. Laughter sparkles in the air and they dissolve into talking about human things. School. Teachers. Homework. Things I could never understand. Things I could never share with her.
So I sit and wait for her to come back to me. She is human. She must have moments to be the girl she would have been if she had not met me.