Chapter 27
Wallace's apartment was different than she remembered.
For one, all the beautiful Rembrandts she'd given him were nowhere to be seen. They’d been taken down and replaced with “inspirational” phrases.
For example, above the dining room table now hung a “Stay Positive,” and lurking next to the sink was “Be Like Sisyphus” with a stick figure pushing a circle up a hill.
She couldn’t imagine what Sisyphean task Wallace was dealing with as a product manager at a dental technology company.
But then again, she was just an old hag; maybe selling patient bibs over Zoom was the back-breaking labor of the twenty-first century.
“Mom,” Wallace said for the third time in the last five minutes. “What are you doing?”
Yasmine picked at the wooden frame encasing the poster.
“Even the wood feels like plastic," she muttered. “Where’d you get this? Temu?”
Wallace let out a sigh with enough exasperation to put out a small fire.
"Mother, it is 4 AM. If you’re here to talk about the structural integrity of my wall-hangings, you’re welcome to come back at any time after eleven."
Yasmine crossed her arms, and huffed.
Of course, she wasn’t actually here to discuss his lacking interior design choices. She was here to deal with their very pressing Rebecca issue.
Which she’d been full of urgency and determination to do… before her son had answered the door. Practically naked except for some heart-patterned boxers, and standing next to a young man about his age, who was holding a baseball bat.
Because she’d been right. Wallace had a boyfriend, and he had been hiding it from her. But it wasn’t just that. Judging by the little anniversary photo of them at Disney Florida hanging on the fridge, he’d been hiding it for an entire year.
To say it disarmed her a little was an understatement.
Several minutes had passed in an enduringly awkward silence. The tall, gangly human boy—Jason, apparently—was now standing by the stovetop, staring at the steam wafting out of the tea kettle. Every so often, he’d nervously flit his eyes between Yasmine, Wallace, and occasionally, Bella.
Bella, who was, yes, also here. Staying completely, uncharacteristically quiet. Of all the times for her to let Yasmine take the lead.
Jason cleared his throat. "I think the water’s ready. What kind of tea would you like, Ms. Sokolov, ma’am?"
Yasmine blinked at him. It wasn’t that she had been ignoring him completely, but well—yes, she had been. It was just too much to digest all at once. But now he was being all sweet and cordial and obviously nervous, and this was her son’s… boyfriend.
She glanced back at him and tried to smile. "Do you have anything herbal?"
He apprehensively opened the cupboard. From the glimpse she got inside of it, she saw that there was almost nothing in Wallace's pantry, save for one box of Earl Grey.
"Ah, no," he whispered back in defeat.
Yasmine scoffed, finding another thing to latch onto. She fixed her attention on Wallace once more. “Where did all the tea I gave you go?"
Unfortunately, he did not take the bait. "Will you please, for the love of God, tell us why you're here? And who this is?" Wallace said, waving his hand towards Bella.
Oh. Right.
"That’s my…” Yasmine trailed off; where was she even to start? “Lab assistant."
Wallace shot her a look of disbelief. "And why is your lab assistant here?" He flushed when he made eye contact with Bella. "I'm sorry. You have a name. I'm being rude."
Yasmine was reminded eerily of herself when Wallace stuck his hand forward and said, "Hi, I'm Wallace. My mother is insane, which I'm sure you know. Blink twice if you need me to call the appropriate authorities."
Bella snorted, eyes bright with delight. It both calmed Yasmine and rattled her sails even further seeing Bella look so tenderly at her son.
She had never really imagined them meeting.
She hadn't let herself go that far.
Bella extended a gloved hand and shook his.
"Bella Dragomir," she said. “You have your mom’s waves. They’re lovely.”
Wallace flushed, as he always did receiving any compliment. But the name must have jogged something in the back of his mind. His eyebrows shot up, and he whipped his head to the side towards his increasingly nervous boyfriend.
"Jason, oh my god, this is…"
Catching himself, he trailed off, then looked nervously back at Yasmine.
"Yes? What? She’s my lab assistant," Yasmine reiterated in a huff.
Bella laughed, which did not help her case.
"Yes. My mother's lab assistant," Wallace mumbled. "My mother's… employee. Anyway, not to be rude, but—"
Yasmine flung up her hands. "Why are we here, I know, I know. I’m getting to it.”
She sighed and raked one of Wallace's chairs across the linoleum flooring.
Joining Bella at the table, she splayed her hands wearily across its surface, staring at her reflection in the glossy sheen.
Her pupils were still blown from the nightmare.
She could see the remnants of it pulling at the edges of her vision. They looked like little black whiskers.
Feeling that familiar fear swell up again, she glanced at Bella, who was already staring at her. She was wearing a small, sweet smile, but saying nothing.
I can’t believe she’s immune.
Yasmine couldn’t believe a lot of things, frankly.
It had been a long, rainy drive down from upstate.
The downpour had left room for a lot of stewing.
Yasmine had a million things she wanted to say to Bella, but none of them felt possible to vocalize in the company of Sylvia and Aster, and certainly not Bruce.
And definitely not now in front of Wallace and his human boyfriend.
I just need to talk to her in private.
She felt it with a deep, clawing urgency.
As if sensing how unmoored she felt, Bella reached out and squeezed her hand lightly. "I can fill them in?"
Wallace’s eyes flitted down to their hands briefly. He gave his mother a loaded glance.
"It's fine,” Yasmine said, slowly peeling her hand away, despite how it felt like pulling apart two magnets. “But, Wallace, I don't think your boyfriend should be here to listen to this. It's… family business."
Jason put his hands up, already prepared–and perhaps eager–to retreat back to the bedroom, but Wallace grabbed his arm and stopped him.
"Jason, stay put,” he huffed. “If your employee can hear it, so can Jason."
Yasmine balked. Family business was the phrase they’d always used when she didn't want a human overhearing something vampiric. Had he forgotten?
He must be confused because Bella’s here.
“Bella already knows about… it,” Yasmine replied carefully. “So there’s no point in making her leave.”
That seemed to change something. Wallace’s eyes widened, and he looked at Bella with a different sort of regard, as if he was appraising her.
“Bella… You told Bella… about family business,” he said slowly. “I can’t believe it.”
Yasmine frowned. The metaphor was officially running into its limits.
“She’s… well, she’s like family,” she said, trying to guide him to the correct conclusion.
Wallace swallowed. He seemed to be summoning the confidence to say something.
“Well, so is Jason, then.”
Yasmine paused, her heart thumping against her ribs.
He couldn't possibly mean—
“You found a vampire boyfriend?” she announced, lurching forward out of her chair. “And you hid him from me?!”
“What?” Wallace blurted out. “No! How did you just come to that conclusion?”
Yasmine reeled, eyes rapidly traveling from Wallace to Jason and back again.
“What other conclusion was I supposed to reach?” she hissed.
Wallace massaged his temple and dragged his hands down his face before letting out a groan. "Jason is human, mother. He just knows that you're a—"
"Supernatural entity?" Jason cut in with a worried, guilty smile. "Don’t worry, I’m exceptionally good at keeping a secret. My parents still don’t even know I’m gay.”
Yasmine just stared, and reeled, absolutely speechless. Eventually, she slumped back down in her chair, falling against it like a dumbbell.
“Oh my god.”
***
Yasmine had never intended to tell Wallace she was a vampire.
Unfortunately, it was a plan which quickly proved unsustainable.
The first time a problem arose, Wallace was six years old. The curious little boy had dug his way into her blood supply, and vomited up a gallon’s worth of what he had thought was red Kool-Aid.
She’d told him it was wine, and that kids’ stomachs just couldn’t tolerate the taste.
That narrative bought her a few more years, until he was about eleven years old.
A worried frown was beginning to permanently etch into his cheeks, and he’d come home from school saying things like: “Other people’s moms eat a meal at dinner time.
” and “Other people’s moms don’t have wine every morning and every evening. ”
Then, she got a call from the guidance counselor. Your son is worried about you. Should we be worried, too?
She got the picture pretty quickly. Fix your shit, or we call child protective services.
So she sat him down at dinner.
“Wallace,” she’d said. “I’m going to give you a word to use to describe me, but it’s not one that I want you to share with your friends, okay?”
She remembered how scared Wallace had looked. But he’d nodded, the brave boy.
“I know you’ve heard of vampires.”
This had been right around the height of Twilight’s fame, which was both fortunate and unfortunate for Yasmine.
Wallace had several—like, three or four—Robert Pattinson posters in his room. And when she asked him about it, he had flushed and said, “I just think he’s a really good actor.” The closet door had always been wide open.
She cleared her throat. “Well, Edward is kind of like my distant cousin. We have some stuff in common, some stuff not. I need blood to live, too. Sun hurts me, although it doesn’t hurt me that much.
They greatly exaggerate it. I definitely don’t sparkle.
And I sort of have special powers.” She made an abstract gesture with her hands.
“But they’re not very special. They’re mostly extremely annoying. ”