“And,” he continued grimly, “That this sudden desire is not merely an emotional response to the realization that you can no longer be an active part of the lives of the children you already have.”
When she stared at him with frustration, Dante said gently, “It is not the right reason to bring a child into the world, Mary. And I do not ever want a child of mine thinking they are a substitute for your mortal children.”
Mary flinched at the words and then closed her eyes on a sigh. “No. I don’t either,” she agreed sadly.
They were both silent for a minute, and then she slipped off of his lap to go collect her nightgown from the floor. As she bent to pick it up, Mary decided she needed a change of subject to get her mind off this sad topic and asked, “What does tesoro mean?”
“Treasure,” Dante answered, standing to tuck himself away and do up his jeans.
“Really?” Mary asked, her expression softening.
“Si. It is most often used like dear,” he murmured, reclaiming the chair. “But you are my treasure, Mary.”
She could feel herself blushing, and glanced down to the nightgown she held. As she quickly pulled it over her head, Mary asked, “Whose nightgown is this?”
“Yours now,” Dante said, watching her don the gown. When she poked her head through the neck and glanced to him in question, he explained, “They keep many things here for guests that might have to stay at the Enforcer House unexpectedly. There are pajamas, nightgowns, jeans and T-shirts . . .” He shrugged. “I picked that nightgown, but was not sure of your size, so you will have to pick the jeans and tops. I did get you a razor, hairbrush, toothpaste, and toothbrush from the storage room though.”
“Thank you,” Mary whispered, surprised by his thoughtfulness.
He shrugged and patted his leg. When she moved back to him, he drew her to sit sideways in his lap and then said solemnly, “The council has agreed to buy you a whole new wardrobe. They also intend to refund you the money for the RV and everything you lost. They will put it in a bank account for you and arrange ID for you just as soon as you tell them what name and birth date you wish them to use.”
Mary eyed him uncertainly. “Can I not use my name?”
“You can use your first name and maybe your middle name if you have one. As for your last name . . .” He hesitated and then said, “Most try to avoid the name they are known as in their mortal life. Or they include it but alternate it.”
“What do you mean?” she asked uncertainly. “Like Windy Mary or something instead of Mary Winslow?”
“No,” he said with a laugh. “For instance, Francis was Francis Renart and Russell was Russell Argeneau-Jones. Argeneau was Russell’s mother’s maiden name. She kept it as part of her name when she married and took the surname Jones so that they were Argeneau-Jones. But we tend to have to change our names every ten years when we change identities and she and her husband alternated between Jones and Argeneau. Russell and Francis consider themselves Renart Argeneau Jones, but alternate between Renart, Jones and Argeneau on their ID when they have to change it.”
“Oh,” she said with a frown. “So I could be Mary Winslow Bonher.”
“Boner?” Dante asked, his voice a bit choked.
“Bon-her,” Mary said dryly and spelled it out before explaining, “It’s my maiden name.”
“Ah,” he nodded. “Well, yes, of course you could use Bonher. As for Winslow . . .” Dante cleared his throat. “I thought perhaps Notte instead.”
Mary stilled, her eyes meeting his.
“It will be Notte eventually,” he said quietly. “When you are ready to make it so.”
Flushing, she nodded and glanced down, then lifted her head right back up and asked, “What about my birthday? They want a different year, of course?”
He nodded. “Some keep their original day and month and just switch the year, but others change the day and month to the day they were turned.”
“Hmmm,” she murmured, thinking about that. Should she have a completely new birth date for a new life? Or should she settle for just a new birth year?
“You have a little time to think about it,” Dante said reassuringly, his hand moving over her back.
“How little?” Mary asked.
“I would say you should decide by the time we go shopping tomorrow,” he suggested. “Lucian will demand to know then.”
“Lucian?” she asked with surprise. “He’s going shopping with us?”
“Si, the council is paying for the clothes you lost, so he is accompanying us tomorrow to buy you a wardrobe suitable for a warm climate.”
“Oh,” Mary muttered, so dismayed at the thought of having to go shopping with Lucian that it took a moment for the rest of his words to sink in. When they did, she glanced to him sharply. “A warm climate?”
Dante nodded, and Mary just stared at him with bewilderment. It was still winter and cold. There was still snow on the ground, she thought, and then her eyes widened as a thought occurred to her. “Venezuela?”
He nodded again, a crooked smile spreading his lips.