Chapter 44 The Found Family Trope
Anticipation is everything. It’s true for public speaking, the dentist, sex, Christmas, probably even the destruction of your home. Anything that is big enough to be anticipated is bound to feel inconsequential when it finally happens. This is especially true of the holidays.
We were to have one Christmas in our inn before the town razed it, thanks to bureaucratic delays, an overbooked crane, and the usual December labor shortage.
Then I slept through it.
Of course I did. It’s a daytime holiday.
Santa works the night shift (my only source of compatibility with Tyrone besides sexual chemistry).
People wake up as soon as the kids open their eyes, eat pancakes, and open presents.
Then they spend the afternoon watching Die Hard or Love, Actually or one of the new Lindsay Lohan movies.
Go, Lindsay! I’ve been rooting for you. The only nighttime activity is the Christmas Eve church service. None of it is for vampires.
We woke up after the whole day was over. “Well, I guess that’s that,” I said.
“Vermont exists the rest of the year too, you know,” Heaven said.
“But does it?”
Vlad walked by looking rumpled and sexy. Had he gotten the memo that I loved him in sweatpants? He looked out the window and shook his head. “The damn snow.”
I nodded. “The road to town has one lane open, but that’s it. All of the highways are closed.”
His voice sounding as pent-up as he was, Vlad said, “I’m leaving now.”
“I don’t recommend it.” I was learning. Vampires aren’t exempt from travel advisories. A second storm was predicted. It was going to be a few more days before we should embark on any road trips.
“I’m going back to Utah when it stops snowing.”
“Vlad, are you okay?” I asked. “You’ve been very concerned about me, but what’s going on with you?”
He looked off into the distance like the horizon was calling to him. “I need to get out of here.”
He clearly meant get as far away from me as possible.
We ended up doing what all depressed people do on Christmas: We went to the bar. The tavern was in full Christmas regalia. Gary was still dressed as Mariah, the Christmas tree was lit, and the fireplace was crackling. I texted Jessica to come join us.
“Why so glum?” Mariah asked Vlad as she slid a neat whiskey across the bar. Heaven and I sat on either side of him, holding our hot toddies.
“I don’t celebrate,” he said. “I’m…not Christian.”
That was a mild way of putting it.
“Ah, hell,” he said in a fuck-it tone. “We’re vampires. Obviously, we can’t celebrate Christian holidays, even if they’re mostly commercial at this point.”
Mariah looked at me and mouthed “Is he okay?” in a very exaggerated way.
“It was a very disappointing…day for him,” I said.
“Extremely disappointing,” Vlad agreed.
Mariah rocked back on her heels and crossed her arms. “Honey, Christmas is always a disaster. What happened? Did you overcook the goose?”
“I’ve never overcooked anything in my life,” Vlad said. Easy to do if you’ve never cooked anything, I communicated to Heaven with my eyes.
“In-law troubles?”
Vlad stared into his liquor. “It’s like no one hears me.”
Heaven and I gently patted Vlad on the shoulders.
Jessica plopped down on the empty stool next to me and turned to face us. “My mother gave me a scale. To weigh myself. It was all wrapped up with a bow.”
Mariah shook her head and produced a plate of fries. “On the house.”
Jessica slid the fries toward herself and covered them in ketchup with reckless abandon. It was almost vampiric. I had to admire it. “She could tell I didn’t like the scale and she was all like, ‘Jessica, don’t be silly. Everyone needs a scale. And yours broke, right?’ ”
“Bitch,” Heaven said.
Tyrone walked up behind us and put a hand on Jessica’s shoulder. “Jessica, I can confirm that your mom is wrong. You’re what they call thicc, and I wouldn’t change a thing.”
Heaven raised her glass and said, “To the one-hundred-seventy-five-pounds-and-up club.”
Jessica blushed furiously and started fussing with her hair as Tyrone took the seat to her right. “So,” she said, clearly trying to change the subject, “thanks again for helping with the ball, Tiffany. I just didn’t have it in me, and you did such a great job with the decorating.”
“My pleasure.”
“No, we couldn’t have gotten it done without you. You were a miracle.”
Our Christmas group therapy session was attracting a small crowd of malcontent citizens—an impromptu holiday support group. Everyone had a complaint:
“My kids have been sick for a month.”
“I racked up three thousand on the credit card for a bunch of stuff no one needs.”
Bob, the electrician, came out of his corner. “I spent all day plowing just so I didn’t have to be alone in my empty house.”
Another person said, “I’m Muslim. Do you know what it’s like to live in this town?”
“You mean no one likes Chrithmas?” I asked. This was a revelation. “We’re in Vermont. How can this be?”
Don’t believe everything you see on TV—I knew that was good advice, but I’d fallen for it again. Small-town America indeed contained all types. There was even enough room for me.
Mariah B. Gary went into preacher mode. “You have to accept it for what it is. You put a bunch of family together, add heat—conflict is bound to arise. Festivus is really the way to go. Celebrate around a steel pole, air grievances, forget the gifts. That’s the true spirit of Christmas.”
Tyrone shrugged. “I like turkey.”
Fifteen minutes later, Mariah said, “Last call!”
“What?”
“We’re closing early. It’s Christmas, ya know.”
“More to dislike,” I grumbled. Inspired by the spirit of anti-Christmas, I stood up and clinked my glass with a butter knife like I was about to give a toast at a wedding.
“I would love if everybody came to my place for a party. Well, not my place. It’s ours.
” I gestured to Vlad and Heaven. “We’ve been fixing it up for a month to pass inspection, but it’s been condemned.
It looks pretty good, at least in the dark, and it would be a shame to never have anyone over. ”
One thing that was true about small towns, everyone knew everyone else’s business, but I gave some crude directions just in case. “It’s the old Valentine Bed-and-Breakfast. It’s called Radiance now.”
“Radiance?” a few people muttered.
I looked at Heaven. “That’s her name. She’ll never open but she’s happy to shine her light on you for one night,” I said.
Heaven and I walked to the front door, hand in hand.
“By the way, we don’t have any food, so bring some leftovers if you wanna eat!” Heaven tossed off as we headed out into the snow.
Half an hour later, the after-party began.
The house was beautiful. I had decorated it in Martha Stewart’s image, but in combination with Heaven’s vampire-core, it fell somewhat short and far to the left of Martha.
The walls were casket black, except for the one covered in red-velvet wallpaper.
The entire downstairs was giving Gothic library at Christmas vibes.
But while the library looked grand, most of the books were self-help titles, Harlequin romances, and the Cat Who…series. Three centuries of lowbrow taste. There’s a reason Vlad read history and I read so-called trash. That is where I found myself.
Tyrone arrived first with all the cookies that hadn’t sold at the Christmas fair. No shade, but they looked stale. That fair had finished a week ago. Jessica brought a tray of deviled eggs.
Mariah B. Gary brought herself. “I’m here, bitches! The party can start now!” she shouted.
Dr. Rosetti, Bob, Linda, and Pete, the fireman I’d given my BDSM book to, followed behind. It turns out that in only a month I’d managed to collect a solid bunch of misfit friends.
“Linda!” I said. “I bid on you at the auction!”
“Let me know when you want that date. Or if you need a hand sometime…” she said as she surveyed the reno work.
“Thanks, I would love that,” I said, too sad to tell her that there was no point.
The ambiance, the food, the company—it was everything I never knew I needed.
Vlad was the only one who wasn’t in top form. “Who wants to play charades?” he said.
I put my hand on his shoulder. “Vladdy, dear, do you think you should put that drink down, maybe?”
He guffawed. “Tyrone, you know I can hold my liquor, right? You witnessed it firsthand.”
“It depends on what you mean by ‘hold my liquor,’ ” Tyrone said drily.
“Tiffenie is worried that I’m going to spill our secrets while I’m drinking.” He shook his head. “I might as well.”
I braced myself against a wall.
“Just so you all know, we’re vampires,” Vlad announced. “That’s why we only come out at night and all of that.”
Jessica started laughing. “You guys are great. I love it.”
Bob nodded like it made sense.
“No, for real, we’re vampires. I was born in 1367, the year of our lord, the second son of Vlad the Destructor.”
“Oooh!” Dr. R leaned forward. “This is so much better than Christmas at my mom’s house.” In an exaggerated stage whisper, she turned to the crowd and explained, “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure they’re just a cult.”
“We’re not a cult,” Vlad spat out, insulted by the accusation. “We’re vampires for real.”
He turned to me. “I can’t change the rules immediately, but we can pull a Harry and Meghan.”
“What do you mean?” I’d already tried baking and it wasn’t for me.
“We’re already doing it,” he explained. “Even if we can’t change the system, we can move to Montecito, or Vermont as the case may be, and make our own rules. I started that podcast. And you and Heaven—what is Radiance, if not a lifestyle brand?”
The whole world stopped for a moment. I had always imagined change as something drastic, maybe Vlad rewriting all the rules of vampiredom.
No more serving the devil and perseverating on the Dark Gift.
Instead, change looked like the scene around me, creating our own life, celebrating small moments in cozy spaces with friends.
And when was the last time he killed someone? I actually couldn’t recall.
“We can start our own coven,” he said.
I looked at the group of people trying to follow his thoughts on covens and mouthed, “He gets like this when he’s drunk.” But inside, I was melting.
Dr. R was getting really into the coven idea.
“You know, there aren’t enough third places in Valentine.
We have the church and the tavern, but what if you aren’t religious or don’t drink?
” She gestured to the group. “Just look at us. Valentine needs places to gather and exchange ideas without judgment. I don’t care if you want to talk about vampirism, you should have a place to do it.
If you became an official vampire club, it would be great. ”
Bob popped a cocktail weenie in his mouth. “What’s a third place?”
“A place where people can gather outside of work or home, a place where people know your name. We’ve been losing places like that for over a century. I don’t think it’s any coincidence that loneliness is on the rise.” Dr. R made eye contact with me. “Tiffany, I’m proud of you.”
“Does Valentine really need an official vampire den?” Vlad asked, clearly amused.
“We could call it an artists’ salon or even just a gathering place,” I suggested.
Heaven had been listening quietly. “I can work with this,” she said. “It’s called Radiance. I think that’s very flexible.” Heaven was in.
“Don’t forget both of you bit the city inspector on separate occasions and the house is condemned.” Vlad slapped his knee and laughed. “We’re just lucky no one’s going to jail.”
Everyone laughed uncomprehendingly as I pretended to do the same.
As the night was winding down, I found myself in the kitchen with Heaven, washing dishes besides cups for the first time since we’d arrived in Vermont. The sink was full to the brim with soapy water and plates. There was something beautiful about seeing the inn full of people, if only for a night.
“Thank you, Heaven,” I said as I took a plate from her. I dried it and set it on the dish rack with a satisfying clank.
“You’re welcome. Here’s another one.” She passed me another freshly washed plate.
I turned to her, holding the dripping plate. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this craziness. I didn’t mean to.”
“I know. I was mad, but…” She absent-mindedly trailed a finger through the soapy dishwater.
“I guess this is part of my journey. Losing Gemma was hard, but I know she wasn’t the one.
You know”—she trailed her finger through the water again—“if I’m being honest, I wasn’t ready to be ‘the one’ for anyone yet. ”
There was so much else to say, but for once I was out of words. I put my arm around her and hugged her.
She hugged me back. “I’ve got you.”
“I’ve got you too, Heaven. For eternity.” I laughed a little too hard, my words landing somewhere between a threat and a promise. I guess it was both.