Chapter 6
VICTOR
Victor left a handwritten note taped to the door declaring they were out of ice cream to deter anyone else who’d seen the free milkshake advert.
It was an inelegant solution to their problem.
But it was the best he could come up with until he could reorder more ice cream base.
While Lizzy moved her car from the front of the diner to the house’s driveway, he ran inside ahead of her.
The kitchen was spotless, but the rest of the rooms were covered with his and Brayden’s belongings.
Had he known she was planning to stay here, he would have tidied up.
Most people didn’t see this side of him—the chaotic, disorganized slob.
But he was one man and could only keep up a business or a clean house, not both.
As soon as he reached the living room, Igor swooped towards him, screeching for dinner.
“Not now, Igor.”
Igor was not pleased with this answer, and he decided landing on Victor’s shoulder and pecking at him was the best course of action.
Lucky for Victor, he could simply turn off the feeling in that part of his skull.
A convenient side effect of being reanimated was a heightened ability to control zones of his body, which allowed him to ignore the bird while he worked.
Victor grabbed the pair of boxers flung over the arm of the couch and the socks discarded in front of the television and shoved them into his pocket, before running over to the primary bedroom, which he’d taken over and sometimes slept in.
Brayden used the guest room/office. The primary bedroom was more a closet than a room for Victor.
His clothes had exploded out of his suitcase and lay crumpled in piles scattered around the room.
He grabbed the clothes haphazardly and stuffed them all into his suitcase along with what he’d found around the house.
The doorbell rang, and Igor cawed indignantly, flapping his wings in a way that couldn’t be ignored.
She was here, and Victor’s heart was thumping loudly.
He nearly tripped over his open suitcase in his rush to get to the door, and he stumbled before catching himself on the doorjamb.
He took a calming breath and then walked to the front door, Igor squawking up a storm the entire time.
When he opened the door, Lizzy burst into laughter.
The sound was intoxicating, better than any stimulant.
He was certain it could keep him awake to work two doubles in a row without any black coffee or energy drinks.
“Do you realize Igor is pecking at your head?” she asked.
“He’s hungry,” Victor explained.
“Doesn’t the pecking hurt?”
“I turn off the feeling in that part of my skull.”
“You can do that?”
“Mhmm.” He didn’t like discussing the “features” of his body, as his creator had referred to them.
Lizzy was hauling a suitcase and duffel bag, along with her purse. And he reached for them all.
“Let me carry these for you.” He grabbed her bags one-handed, and her eyes widened. It stroked his ego, and he lifted them higher, finally displacing Igor from his shoulder.
Igor flew into the kitchen with an indignant squawk.
“I can’t believe Igor is still alive. He was my grandfather’s.”
“I’m convinced he’s an eldritch creature. Did you know he likes chorizo and eggs?”
Lizzy snorted, and it was a delightful sound. “When I was a kid, he loved patty melts and BLTs. His palate has broadened.”
He carried her things to the other empty bedroom in the house, which he hadn’t given more than a cursory glance when they’d moved in.
Victor shoved the door open with his shoulder and set the suitcase down on the single bed.
The room was a faded lilac, with black-and-white frilled curtains, and there were posters of 2000s pop icons and figurines of their favorite Hero Club.
An empty bookshelf and a desk were pushed against the wall.
Upon entering, Lizzy inhaled sharply.
Victor spun to face her, fearing Igor, but she was staring at the room, face blanched of color.
“It looks exactly how I left it.” She stepped into the room and touched her desk and posters. Victor watched her every move. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. “Why didn’t he turn this into a gym or office…”
“He missed you.” This was the wrong thing to say, he realized, because she instantly crossed her arms and her shoulders shot up to her ears as if she were balling herself up to protect against the room or maybe from the uncomfortable truth that her father loved her?
“He had a weird way of showing it,” she said.
Victor knew just from looking at her, she was the type to sacrifice her comfort, her desire to keep everyone happy. She’d be miserable staying here. He couldn’t make her sleep in this room.
“Actually, you should take the primary bedroom,” he said.
She spun around to face him. “What—no, surely you and your partner need the room. I’m imposing on your family.”
“First of all, no partner. It’s me and Brayden.” He felt it was imperative to make that clear. “Second of all, this is your house too. And third of all, you don’t want to share a bathroom with a teenage boy. Believe me.”
“You don’t have to. This is my old room after all…”
“No, I insist. I’ve mostly been using the primary bedroom as a closet anyway. And I love Hero Club too, remember?” He gave her a sly grin. His secret love of comics had brought them together in high school. Even now, he rarely talked about his passion for comics and action movies.
She laughed again, but it felt forced. Maybe she’d forgotten, and he was the only one grasping at their shared past. Rather than linger, he picked up her things and carried them to the primary bedroom before shoving the rest of his things back into his own suitcase.
She followed him into the room, and he saw the way her shoulders relaxed as she looked around.
It might as well have been a hotel room.
There wasn’t a single picture or personal touch on any of the walls.
“Get settled in. I’m gonna feed Igor before he tears an ear off.”
She nodded absently, and he left her standing in the middle of the room, staring at the bed. A part of him wanted to linger, to ask her what had led to her current situation, but it wasn’t his place to pry.
He passed by Brayden’s room and heard him shouting at his friends, who he was playing a game with, then headed to the kitchen. Igor’s urgent squawking didn’t diminish until Victor was opening the fridge, letting the bird select ingredients.
Igor must have been feeling nostalgic because he grabbed a prepped hamburger patty and some onions.
Victor sighed and pulled out a pan and chopping board.
By the time he’d prepared the bird’s patty melt and a few more for himself, Lizzy, and Brayden, Lizzy entered the kitchen in a change of clothes and smelling like floral soap.
The fact that it cut through the scent of caramelized onions and cooked beef was impressive, or maybe it was just because he was so painfully aware of her.
Her hair was wrapped up in a towel, but one wet tendril had escaped and caressed her neck, and he tried not to let his gaze linger too long.
“Hungry?” he asked her, turning back to the stove.
“Starving,” she replied and took a seat at the kitchen table.
He slid a patty melt towards her, cheese oozing out from beneath the rye bread.
“I’ll never want to leave if you keep cooking for me like this.”
“What if I wanted you to stay forever?” he asked.
She laughed and took a bite of her patty melt.
He didn’t have the heart to tell her it wasn’t a joke.
That old fluttering feeling stuttered in his chest. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to do something very stupid.
Like scare her away by telling her he thought that she was exactly what the diner needed.
He’d seen her notes on the schedule. She’d figured out that thorny problem in minutes. She had the same instincts as Frank.
“So you’re a single dad. What’s that like? Does his mom have him on weekends or…?”
He dabbed some hot sauce onto his patty. That, along with the hot peppers he’d cooked separately, would ensure his food was perfectly spicy, just how he liked it.
“He’s adopted. I can’t have biological children,” he said as he picked up a plate to offer Brayden. He likely wouldn’t eat it, but Victor kept trying.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to touch on a sensitive subject.”
He waved the apology away. “It’s fine. You couldn’t have known. I’m a rather unique case.”
“And you chose to have a kid alone? That’s admirable.”
“It was Frank who inspired me. He took me in when I had nowhere else to go. Brayden was in a similar situation, and I wanted to pay it forward.”
“Are you sure we’re talking about the same Frank Jr.?”
Her eyes widened, and he could see the question there.
He found he was desperate to tell her the truth.
He rarely talked about his creator or the events that led up to Frank taking him in and teaching him how to cook.
But he’d seen how she shut down before when he’d mentioned her dad, and he didn’t want to ruin the rapport they’d built.
They lingered a beat, neither speaking, but they didn’t touch their food either.
Igor had no such qualms and was tearing into his food, squawking happily.
“Yep, same old Igor. Who’s a pretty bird?” she cooed.
He clacked his beak in appreciation.
And Victor found himself suddenly, irrationally jealous of a bird. She turned, noticing him staring, and he coughed to cover it up. She watched him, puzzled, for a moment, and he contemplated what to say. Should he compliment her, or would that be too forward?
They were interrupted when Brayden came shuffling into the kitchen. He paused upon seeing Lizzy, and his dark gaze slid between the two of them. Igor cawed in greeting, and Brayden gave him a short nod.
“I made patty melts. Would you like one?” Victor offered.
“No thanks.”
“This is Lizzy, Frank’s daughter,” he rushed to explain.
“I didn’t ask,” Brayden grumbled and shuffled to the fridge and opened it.
“You hungry? Want me to make you something else?”
“Shake is fine.” He grabbed a meal replacement shake and held it up for Victor to see. Then he shuffled out, heading back to his bedroom.
Victor turned to Lizzy and plastered on a smile. “Sorry about that. Brayden is newly undead, and it’s been an adjustment period…”
“You said teenager, but I guess I imagined a young teen, but Brayden is…?”
“A senior in high school. He turns eighteen in April next year. Most regular teens end up in group homes, but for undead teens, it’s usually worse.
There’s not a ton of resources for kids like him, who were formerly human, entering this world.
I volunteered with an organization that helps them.
And then when I met Brayden, his biological parents were terrified of him.
After hearing his story, I offered to adopt him to help him get through school and start his undead life. ”
“They abandoned me. Is what he’s saying.” Brayden had reemerged from his bedroom, overlarge headphones slung around his neck. “I’m going out.” He gave Victor a defiant look, as if challenging him to argue.
There were house rules they’d established. He was trying to give Brayden a normal teenage life, as much as he could anyway. But Victor also wanted him to go out and have friends, even if it made him nervous to let Brayden out of his sight for long.
“Be back by ten, okay?”
“Yeah.” Brayden put his headphones on and shuffled out the door. They both watched him go.
“He’s a cute kid,” Lizzy said.
“You don’t have to humor me.”
“No, he is. I’m actually relieved he’s a teenager. They’re so much easier to relate to than small kids.” She smiled at him, and he felt his chest explode.
“I’m glad you like him. I hope we can all get along.”
“Totally. It’s just for a month anyway, right? I’ll be out of your hair before you know it.”
“Right.”
“He seems to trust you,” Lizzy commented before taking a bite of her patty melt.
Victor stared at her, mouth agape, as she chewed. He couldn’t have heard her right. “What makes you say that?”
“I can feel it, his comfort around you. The way he talks with you. You’re a good dad, in case you were worried.” She smirked at him, challenging him to argue. “I know you want to be the best at everything. Too bad there are no awards in child-rearing.”
Victor felt something unspool in his chest, and he was reminded of what had made him fall for Lizzy the first time—the way she seemed to pierce him down to his very core, leaving him bared open before her. Either this month would break him, or he’d fall hopelessly in love with her.