Chapter 10 #3
Mr. Minegold’s face transformed, cool austere lines suddenly warming into a surprised smile.
“You are Jesse’s Sophie? I— I’ve known Jesse since he was a young man.
That is, as a boy in school. Grammar school.
I saw him on Christmas Eve and how he was talking about you!
” Both hands shot out, clasping hers and pumping them enthusiastically.
“Georgia, this is Jesse’s girlfriend, Sophie. ”
“Oh! You’re Jesse’s girlfriend! That explains the donuts!”
Sophie nodded, smiling, unable to keep up with sudden happy chatter.
It was only two voices, but that was two more than she was used to.
The idea of being known by strangers was mildly off-putting, but being instantly “beloved” by strangers was completely foreign to her.
“It’s nice to meet you. He talks about you a lot, too.
All about you and how you helped him in school.
” Sophie hoped her eyes would convey more than the surface meaning.
“How kind. It was my privilege. He is indeed a fine young man. Very special.” his voice dropped as Georgia fetched Sophie’s change. “Jesse is like a son to me.” Dark eyes darkened further. “He trusts you.”
Sophie felt fear surge in her chest, but it was quickly replaced by anger.
She understood love, and she understood the threat that went unsaid.
Don’t hurt him, don’t betray his trust. The thought of anyone, even her, hurting Jesse, set off something fierce and protective deep in the pit of her heart.
“I won’t. I wouldn’t do that to him,” she said quietly, eyes shying away.
Anger was one thing. Confrontation was another.
He released her hand swiftly, stepping back.
Shit. Sophie quickly stuffed her hands in her pockets, hiding the soft red glow that hovered at her fingertips. The lighting in the Pine Loft was mellow and golden. Maybe he hadn’t noticed.
“And one and twenty-five, thirty, thirty-two, that’s your change.” Georgia counted a dollar and some coins on top of the counter. “Tell Jesse and Mrs. Smith I said hi!”
“Yes. Tell them I said hello, too.” Mr. Minegold followed Sophie to the front door, keeping under the dark green awning as they stepped outside into an overcast mid-morning. “I see you’re special, like us.” He inclined his head in a formal nod before stepping back inside.
But I’m not like you. The protest remained inside, followed by a question.
So what am I?
THE SMITH HOUSE BLENDED in, situated right before a cul-de-sac in a nest of nearly identical colonials mixed with what had passed for “modern'' in the eighties. She parked her car behind his, stepping out and taking in the view.
It was nothing like Philly, nothing like Antonia, the only two places she’d ever lived. This was the suburbs. A big park, currently snow-covered, gave birth to acres of trees, but beyond them, she could see the flat roof of a multi-story red brick building. The high school, she realized.
“You’re here! You said you would text me!” Jesse came running out of the garage in a t-shirt and jeans, arms open.
“I had my hands full!” Sophie laughed and prevented him from swooping her up in his arms by thrusting the hot cocoa at him. “I come bearing gifts. Well, I come bearing mid-morning goodies, anyway.”
“You’re the gift. And my goody. Good enough to eat,” he whispered against her neck.
Sudden thoughts of Jesse placing a line of donuts from her throat to her pussy and working his way down made her thighs clench.
“Hm? Ooh, what was that thought?” Jesse demanded.
“What thought? What do you mean?” Sophie blushed.
Jesse tapped his nose. “Some scents I love. I won’t forget this one,” his hand squeezed her waist and moved to lightly brush the center of her jeans. “It’s one of my favorites.”
“You can smell that I...” Her cheeks burned.
“Missed me? Yeah.” He bumped his hips to hers. “And you can feel that I missed you, too.”
Sophie was lost in the kiss, crisp air, warm scents of chocolate and pastry teasing her nostrils, and Jesse’s hard bulge teasing something else.
“Jess-eee! Bring that girl inside! It’s thirty degrees out there! You’re not even wearing a coat!”
They sprang apart at the sound of the voice. “Ah. That’s my mom.”
“I guessed,” Sophie smiled. “Do you think she’ll like me?”
“I think she’ll love you.”
MRS. SMITH, (PLEASE call me Grace), looked like she should have been Jesse’s grandmother, not his mother.
Although her face was youthful and her smile was beautiful, Sophie couldn’t help notice the signs of age around her eyes and in her hands.
That must be so hard, Sophie thought, watching yourself age, but your child is stuck in place.
Not growing up and starting a family, finding a career, getting all the accolades.
Always living in the shadows in case someone asks too many questions.
Speaking of questions, Grace was clearly bursting with them.
They made small talk over the chocolate and donuts, but as soon as the plates were carried to the sink, Grace seemed to zero in on the couple clasping hands at the table.
“Jesse?”
“What, Mom?”
“Did you bring Sophie’s things in from the car yet?”
“No, I’ll go get them.”
Sophie started to rise. “Oh, I can—”
“No, dear, let Jesse be a gentleman. He hasn’t had the chance to squire a lady around town in years, much less play the host.”
“Oh, God, Mom. Don’t embarrass me.”
“It’s my sacred duty,” she kissed the top of his head fondly as he rose from the table and she reclaimed her seat.
“Well, please don’t embarrass Sophie, then,” Jesse gave his mother a stern glare that ended with a hopeless smile.
As the door shut, Sophie swallowed.
Grace swallowed as well, fiddling with the wedding band she now wore on her right hand, slipping it up and down the space under an age-swollen knuckle. “Jesse was so excited you were coming here. And he’s excited to go visit your family in Philadelphia, too.”
“My parents can’t wait to meet him.” And interrogate him. If Daddy’s bad cop routine doesn’t work, Mom will just stuff him full of Armenian food until he talks. Sophie smiled nervously.
“It’s... nice that you don’t mind his lifestyle. Jesse told me not to call it that. I’ve tried calling it his ‘special diet’, ‘disadvantage’, or his ‘disability’ and he told me not to say that, either.”
“I love Jesse. I don’t plan to stop loving him because of his needs, his lifestyle, or his diet. He’s smart and sweet, and he’s an amazing person. You couldn’t have raised a better son. Really,” Sophie said, impulsively reaching for Grace’s hand.
“Oh, thank you! Thank you. I... I was shocked when it happened. Sometimes I wondered if I was selfish, being happy that he was here when his life could never be the same.” Her eyes flickered, mouth tightening.
“Oh, and his father... Well, it was hard for all of us.” Grace tilted her head, faded blue eyes surveying Sophie quizzically. “But you know about that, don’t you?”
“Soph, there are a bunch of gift bags in the trunk, am I allowed to touch those?” Jesse returned, brushing snow from his hair.
“I’ll get them!” Sophie jumped up.
“I’ll get yours!” Jesse grinned as he sprinted up the stairs.
“I’ll put on the Christmas music!” Grace moved much more slowly from her chair.
Sophie couldn’t tell if it was from age or disappointment.
AN HOUR LATER, AFTER gifts were exchanged and gushed over, Jesse and Sophie sank back into the floral-patterned couch.
The long drive and tension of meeting new people, combined with the cozy house and the feel of Jesse’s comforting arm around her shoulders were threatening to send her to sleep.
More to stay awake than to make conversation, she tried another attempt at small talk.
“Oh, Georgia from the Pine Loft says to tell you hello. I met Mr. Minegold, too.”
“What?” Jesse sat up, knocking her out of her comfy nest against his side. “You met Mr. Minegold?”
“He was getting coffee. Or his usual, whatever it is.” Sophie wondered if she’d made a mistake bringing him up. The atmosphere of the room changed as soon as she mentioned the other vampire’s name.
“Does she know him, too?” Grace demanded in a stage whisper.
“Not yet. I hope they’ll get to be friends. If Sophie’s in my family, then she’ll have to get to know him.”
“Family?” Grace and Sophie said as one.
“Damn.” Jesse fell back against the couch.
“No! Not nothing. That was something. Something nice. Sweet.” Sophie leaned over to him and kissed his cheek.
“Jesse? Why don’t you let Sophie unpack and put her gifts away? You come and help me in the kitchen.”
“What do you need help with, Mom?” Jesse rose, skepticism on his handsome face.
“Come help me get my good bundt pans down. The ones with the cherries and birds in the pattern?”
“Be right back.” Jesse squeezed Sophie’s hand and trailed after Grace.
Sophie made herself scarce... and waited.
“HEY, DO YOU LIKE YOUR ... oh.” Jesse shut the door firmly behind him, locking it.
“The room is beautiful.” Sophie stepped out of the silky robe her mother had given her that Christmas, revealing a skimpy pair of black briefs and a bra that cinched her breasts up and made them overflow their cups.
“Well, it is now.”
“I figured your mom wouldn’t mind if I told her I had a post-donut sugar crash.” Feeling decidedly vixenish, Sophie slipped onto the guest bed with a deliberate stretch that showed off her lithe body. “I need a fifteen-minute nap.”
“Fifteen minutes, huh?” Jesse sank onto the bed beside her, eyes aglow.
“A little one. A quickie?”
Without another word, he was against her, on top of her, shirt off so that his rippling abdominal muscles molded to her smooth, flat torso.
“You deserve much, much longer than fifteen minutes. Mom has choir practice tomorrow night. I know it’s dumb for a grown man to worry about being overheard by his mother.
I shouldn’t live at home anymore. I’m —”