Chapter 29 The “What Letters?!” Trope
In Aunt Mildred’s pantry, I found some cans of something called No Fear Super Energy Supplement behind the cream of everything soups and Hormel chili.
The cans each featured a cartoonish winged skull that would probably appeal to teenage boys.
I googled the product before sampling. It was a sports drink popular in the nineties and early aughts and, strangely enough, the sponsor of World Extreme Cagefighting.
They had to be Jeff’s. Snowboarding, Street Fighter II, and macho energy drinks. Aunt Mildred must have been too frugal to throw them away, but too church lady to drink them.
No Fear had a nice ring to it. And the flavor: Bloodshot. Thanks, Jeff. I wandered to the living room with a can.
“Don’t you two ever check the mail?” Vlad griped. He was holding an armful of letters, fliers, and cards.
“Um, no,” I said.
“Well, there is mail,” he said. “I don’t even know how the mailman fit all of this in the box. He deserves an award.”
The pile of mail was 99 percent junk: pizza fliers, bills, and one letter. It had the same official seal as the notice to vacate.
COMPLAINT AND NOTICE OF INSPECTION
On November 8, 2024, Valentine Inspector Wayne Jarvis was bitten by an illegal canid while performing an inspection of your property, 623 Maple Lane, otherwise known as the Valentine Bed-and-Breakfast. Wayne Jarvis and the City of Valentine have filed an official complaint regarding this matter.
The city believes that the occupants of 623 Maple Lane are in possession of an illegal canid.
Per Vermont law, a coyote or wolf hybrid cannot be kept in a private dwelling without a permit issued by the City of Valentine.
We expect said animal to be produced, at which time Valentine Animal Control will collect and dispose of the animal in a humane way.
Furthermore, the bite Mr. Jarvis sustained on your property resulted in an emergency room visit for which he was billed $1,642.33. We have forwarded the bill to you.
The inspection will take place on December 31.
Thank you,
The City of Valentine
This low-level bureaucrat was getting out of hand.
My vision was going blurry and red. The only solution I could come up with to this proposed inspection was to drain him.
I cracked open the can of Bloodshot in my hand.
It was time to see if this ’90s energy drink would satiate my thirst before I finished what Heaven had started.
Vlad stared at me in horror as I guzzled No Fear. Bloodshot tasted like tropical fruit punch.
“What is all of this about a coyote?” Heaven’s voice was high-pitched with frustration.
“At the ER, they wanted to know what bit him. It was the only thing I could think of.”
“What are we supposed to do, bring a dead coyote to city hall?”
“At least they didn’t ask us for a dead vampire.” But that’s what it felt like. “Let’s just pay the bill and fix up the house. If they want to come look for a coyote, it’s not like they’re going to find one.”
For once, Vlad agreed with me. “We don’t have another option.”
Grabbing the car keys, I said, “I’ll be back as soon as I pay this bill.” I chugged the rest of my No Fear so I’d be cool in town.
“Do you want me to come?” Vlad was already grabbing his coat.
“No!” I shouted before the door slammed behind me.
I pulled the hearse into a parking spot at the hospital.
This time, no one redirected me to the morgue, which was nice.
Nothing makes you feel more like a vampire than being sent straight to the morgue upon arrival.
How many times had I fallen asleep and been mistaken for dead at a party, back when I used to go to parties?
The billing office was technically closed, but by some miracle I caught a woman as she was locking up. “Hi!” I called. “Is there any way I could pay a bill real quick?”
With a look of disappointment she said, “You have two minutes.”
“Thank you!” I said as she turned her attention to the computer. “I’m paying the bill for Wayne Jarvis.”
“J-A-R—?”
“V-I-S,” I finished. We almost sounded like we were doing a cheer.
After a moment of scrolling, she said, “Wayne Jarvis, here he is. That’ll be one thousand six hundred forty-two dollars and thirty-three cents.”
For once I was grateful to be undead—no health care required. Insurance paperwork and even more bills might be more than I could handle.
With a swipe of my card, I crossed this task off my list. As I left the office, I waved cheerfully and stood a little straighter. I was that much more broke than before, but I had one less problem to worry about now.
Instead of following the red exit signs out of the hospital, I took a left and walked in the opposite direction. This is where they kept the blood. Sure, I was on the No Fear diet now, but it was good to have options.
“Miss—” a weak voice called from one of the rooms I passed.
I peeked in to see an old woman lying in bed, nearly the same color as the sheets, patchy tufts of hair like a baby bird. On her muted TV, a news anchor was presumably explaining important world events.
“Hello,” I said. “I don’t work here. I was…”
“I don’t need anything, except some company. Would you do an old woman a favor and say hi?”
“Just to chat?”
The woman nodded. “I could use a friend.”
Oh. My antennae went up.
I sat down in the chair by her bed. The view from her window was all small-town charm, an adorable street with gingerbread houses. “I could use a friend, too, or so I’ve been told.”
“Want to play cards?” she asked. “The night nurse plays cards with me, but I’m not sure where she is. Doing her job, I suppose.”
I nodded and dealt us both a hand and put the pile in the middle.
“Go Fish?” I asked.
She harrumphed. “Really?”
“I don’t know many games.” All the rules in card games—learning them was worse than reading my mail. “What are you in for?” I asked her like she was in prison.
With a laugh she said, “I’m just dying.”
“Oh.” I took in the information matter-of-factly. “Are you scared?”
“Cards take my mind off of it.”
“Maybe they can take my mind off of living,” I joked.
She shook her head. “Young people are always so dramatic.”
“Who goes first?” I asked.
“The oldest,” she said smugly. I let her have it, and she put down a pair of aces on the smoothed blanket that was serving as our playing surface.
With no pairs, I drew from the pile.
“Most young people back out of the room if they sense death,” she said. “Almost like it’s catching.”
“I’m older than I look,” I said.
At that she laughed. “What does that mean, you’re twenty-five?”
I ducked the question. “Do you have any advice for me?”
“Find someone to love, someone you can count on.”
“How do you know if it’s the right person?”
“There is no right person,” she said.
“I figured that much out on my own,” I said with a laugh.
“That’s why you just pick one. In my day, you just married the guy across the road and made it work. Don’t overthink it.”
Finally, some advice I could follow. “There is a cute farmer across the road from my house. We went on a date and I’m manifesting more.”
“There you go. Marry him. Have some babies. Decide to make it work and it will.”
“The thing is, we’re very different.” I was about to say more but she waved me off.
“How’s the sex, though?”
Her simplicity was intoxicating. She drew a card from the pile.
At that moment, a knock sounded on the door, and I turned to see Jessica. Was she following me?
“I brought coffee, Lana. Hey, Tiffany, would you like one too?”
“Yes,” I said. I don’t know why. It’s not like I could drink it. But I could pretend to be human for a minute.
She handed a Styrofoam cup to Lana and retrieved another from a nurse’s station for me.
While they caught up on their days and the latest gossip about hospital romances, I poured powdered creamer into my coffee, mimicking Lana. Some of the powder dissolved but half of it clumped together and floated at the top.
“The coffee’s not half bad tonight,” Jessica said. “Or maybe I just don’t have standards anymore.” She shook her head. “I know that’s what happened with me and men.”
Lana started giving her the same advice she had just shared with me.
“So what’s the matter with Tyrone?” I asked. “He seems great.”
“He’s smart and hardworking.” Jessica took a sip of coffee. With a wistful look, she said, “And he’s handsome.”
I nodded. “So he’s perfect?”
“Not exactly. The closer I got, the more it seemed like he was just a gazillion unresolved issues wrapped up with a bow. I don’t do fixer-uppers.”
“He’s seeing that therapist, though.” Then I tried out a line I’d heard so many other women use. “I only date men in therapy.”
Jessica raised her Styrofoam coffee cup. “Hear, hear, sister!” She took a sip. “So, how’s the reno going?”
I shook my head in despair. “We’re doing what we can, but all the contractors are busy over the holidays, and you know I’ve got that December 31 deadline.” For the animal inspection and the home inspection now. I flashed a lopsided smile. “If you know any handymen, hook me up!”
“Actually…” She pulled out her phone and said, “I’ve got a number for you. My brother Bob is hard up for cash. He’s going through a divorce, and I bet he’d take anything.” She looked up before sending the contact card. “Don’t date him, though.”
With that business resolved, she eyed the pile of cards. “So are you going to deal me in?”
In the glow of camaraderie and the friendship that Dr. Rosetti must have been speaking about, I dealt her a hand.
“Do you do this every night?” I asked.
Lana nodded. “At least until I kick it.”
“Can I join?” I would enjoy a social life until Lana kicked it.
Jessica raised her cup. “To friendship.”
How could I not drink to that?
I eyed the coffee with the clumped Coffee Mate floating on top and downed a sip. I could power through this.
I braced myself like I was about to take a hit, clenching my abs, and willed my body to drink coffee like a normal person who played cards with friends. A woman who liked pancakes on Christmas morning and volunteering with old people.
I kept it down for approximately one minute before it started to come up. The only saving grace was that there was an attached bathroom. Instead of vomiting in a holiday display, I made it to the toilet.
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Lana said. “I should have known you weren’t feeling well. You’re so pale.”
“I’m fine.” I waved off her concern.
A look passed between Lana and Jessica. “Have you missed a period?”
Lol. “Oh, no worries there. I can’t have babies.”
“That’s what my friend Jenny said, too,” Jessica said.
“No, I’m sure.” People always knew something was off with me. Nope, I wasn’t pregnant. Didn’t have PMS. I was just a vampire.
Puking seemed like a clear end to the interlude, so I collected my purse. “Thank you for the company.”
Jessica stopped me. “Not so fast. It’s Friendsgiving, and I’m not about to let you go home looking all melancholy.”
“It’s Thanksgiving already?” Time really loses meaning when you’re facing eternity. Now that I wasn’t working a regular job, I’d completely lost track.
“Tomorrow’s Thanksgiving, goof. Tonight we’re celebrating Friendsgiving at the tav and kicking off the holiday trivia bowl.”
I balked at the invitation. “I should go home.”
“Unless you vomit again in the next ten seconds, I’m gonna insist you come.” She started counting down. “Ten, nine, eight—”
Lana chimed in. “You can’t say no to Jessica. It’s impossible.”
I was starting to get that.
In a teasing voice, Jessica said, “Tyrone will be there.”
As a woman who had lived through three hundred years, I might not be bad at trivia. Perhaps it was one of my many skills Vlad had alluded to. Visions of small-town glory danced in my head.