Chapter 19
M y parents had asked me over to have my birthday lunch at home, but I wasn’t ready for that yet. That would mean going through photo albums, talking about her, and probably standing in the bedroom that had once been hers. After Niamh had died, I laid in her old bed sobbing, hugging her pillow. I couldn’t bear to be there. The front of their house looked over the beach, and I didn’t want to listen to the waves crashing on the sand. The sea had taken my sister from me and had lost the calm it once had. I had suggested we go out instead.
They waited outside the restaurant for me.
“ Kia ora! ” Dad greeted me in Te Reo Māori.
Dad was a tall man, usually towering over most people. He was Māori with a lighter complexion, his brown eyes always full of kindness. His calming presence radiated from him. Around his neck hung a Pounamu pendant.
“ Tēnā koe, ” I responded, giving him a quick hug.
Dad had made sure to teach both me and Niamh Te Reo Māori, and we’d spent a lot of time in New Zealand. My sister had resembled him more, while I was almost a mirror image to Mum. As soon as we pulled apart, I turned to face Mum. Her parents were Irish, but she’d been born in Australia. She had the same curly red hair and green eyes I did.
“Hi, sweetie,” Mum smiled at me. “Happy birthday.”
I wrapped my arms around her. “Hi, Mum. Thanks.”
We walked inside and were seated quickly and handed menus.
Mum’s eyes instantly lit up, not bothering to wait. “So, tell me about this man you’re seeing. Matteo someone?”
I groaned inwardly, expecting this. “I’m not exactly seeing him.”
“The photo at the gallery suggests otherwise.” She pulled out her phone. “But this one from last night shows there is something between the two of you.”
She showed me a photo that had been taken in the moment that Matteo had helped me to my feet. His look down at me was filled with such concern, and I had my hand on his arm. I’d been tagged in it by someone at the bar, and it wouldn’t be long before that would be plastered all over the place.
“A drunk got a bit rough; he helped me to my feet,” I explained.
She and Dad exchanged a knowing look .
“Okay, fine, he’s taking me out for dinner tonight,” I said.
Mum beamed at me. “Oh, that’s great sweetie! Tell me about him.”
I knew what she was wanting to hear. That I was head over heels for someone, so she could gush over the fact. I’d spent years with Steven, and she had never warmed to him, had always told me he wasn’t right for me. I didn’t know how she knew.
I sighed. “Well, he’s Italian, so he’s got that accent.” Once I started I couldn’t hold back the words. “And as you know, he’s an artist, plus owns that gallery. He walked into The Underground one night while I was singing.” I paused, recalling that night. “There was a moment where it just felt like the two of us. I felt like I was singing to him.”
We stopped talking when the waiter came to take our orders.
“How does he feel about your singing?” she asked once we were alone again.
Her question was aimed at the fact that Steven had wanted me to quit singing. He’d insisted it wasn’t a real job and that I should stop dreaming.
“Well, apparently he came inside because he heard me sing. Said he was drawn to it. Whatever that means. I think he was just getting his flirt on.”
Excitement flittered through both their faces. “That’s great!” Mum exclaimed.
I lowered my eyes, wishing I could tell her everything. That I was attracted to a vampire. Or that what I was really afraid of was that it wasn’t really his being a vampire, but my own intense feelings for such a creature. “I can’t stop thinking about him,” I admitted out loud. “But I’m scared.” Warmth welled behind my eyes.
She touched my hand. “I know you are, and that’s understandable. Steven wasn’t for you, and he hurt you. But maybe there’s hope for the artist. You always did like the accents.”
The waiter brought us our drinks. I reached for my wine, taking a sip. “Just don’t try pushing me into it, Mum. Tonight is just one dinner. Let me get through that first. I’ll see where things go.” I just need to survive this. Hopefully he doesn’t tear my throat out.
“Anything you say,” she said. But the look on her face was as if I’d just declared love for him or something. Her eyes glimmered with hope and joy.
“I mean it!” I grumbled.
She nodded quickly and took a sip from her wine glass. Dad watched us both, deep in thought. Their marriage had been one I’d always envied. Sure, they had their share of disagreements, but they were always so committed to each other. In love. I could only hope to have a relationship as strong as theirs one day.
“Congratulations on your tour,” Dad enthused. “Our little rockstar. I’m proud of you.”
Pride swelled in my chest. They’d both encouraged both my own and Niamh’s singing from a young age, and I couldn’t be more grateful. Mum used to sing professionally until she met Dad but was now a music teacher. Dad owned a security company, and after last night I wondered if I should ask him for security, especially when we went on tour.
“Thanks Dad.” My smile was wide. “It all feels a bit surreal.”
“Your sister would be just as proud,” Mum assured me. “She always had hope that you’d achieve your dream. You’ve worked so hard, you deserve this.”
I glanced out the window then, to find a woman watching me. She had long, dark hair and had a glint in her eyes that reminded me of Carlos. The way she watched me reminded me of every predator I’d seen on a nature show. Hungry.
When she caught me looking, her lips curved into a smile. The hairs on my arms raised.
“Do you know her?” Mum asked with a frown.
I shook my head. “No, I think maybe she’s just a fan,” I lied.
Amusement shone through her eyes then, as if she had heard me. I had no doubt that she had, and I started to wonder how many vampires were in Melbourne.