David squeezed my hand as my voice faltered.
“I’m sorry I didn’t make it home in time, Dad, and I’m sorry we never danced at my wedding, and that you never got to know I was okay now. But I know that you knew I loved you. And I know that, for everything you taught me and for everything you believed about me, you also knew that I eventually would be okay. How could I not? I’m
your
daughter.”
David loosened my grip on his hand to put his arm around me. “I’ll take care of her, Mr T. I promised you that on the first day I ever saw her, and
…” His arm started shaking so much then that he let go and slowly came to squat by the open grave, a fist placed squarely to the earth to hold him up, his eyes solemnly lowering to his own polished black shoes. “I broke that promise more than a few times lately. And—” His voice broke off into quiet, breathy sobs.
I squatted down too, laying my hand to his back. “It’s okay, David,” I said. “It’s okay.”
Petey went purposefully around me and sat by David, like the faithful old companion he’d always been to those boys. He didn’t move, didn’t whimper, didn’t interact at all. Just sat there, still and silent until David rose slowly and wiped a palm down his face.
“He wasn’t the kind of man you felt good about letting down,” David said. “And I just didn’t realise how badly I’d done that until now.”
“You haven’t let him down, David.” I rubbed his back almost absentmindedly. “You’ve always fought to take care of me. And we’ve had some rough times lately, but all that’s done is make me grow up, make me see how
strong
I actually am and how little I actually need
anyone
to take care of me.”
He sniffed, his head moving in a constant nod. “You can be as strong as you want, Ara. But you were his little girl. And if he knew the things I’d said to you, the way I’ve—” He covered his mouth. “He’d be disappointed. There’s no sugarcoating that.”
“David, wait,” I called as he walked away, but he didn’t even glance back. His long coat floated behind him almost like a cape in the wind, the trees protesting in a gusty dance at his sudden leave.
“Let him go,” Jase said.
I turned around slowly to face him; he looked older than his nineteen years in black—older than David even, despite the two of them wearing almost identical outfits today. “He’s really hurting right now.”
“I know.” He folded a lock of hair around my ear, leaving his hand there after. “But he’s always been better at grieving alone.”
A part of me knew that, and a big part of me just wanted to stay with Jase and spend the afternoon talking until I felt better. But that small piece of me that was still David's wife just couldn't let him bear his grief alone like that—no matter what he
thought
he wanted.
I stepped back from Jason’s arms and shook my head. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”
“Ara,” he called after me, but I walked away faster than a human, checking the horizon for David as I came over the hill.
He climbed into the first limousine, Vicki, Sam, Em and Mike loading into the second.
“Wait.” I ran forward with a hand up in the air, and just as David was about to close the door, he stopped and poked his head around the side of the car, watching me run down the small slope to his side.
“I thought you were spending the afternoon with Jason.”
My footsteps halted and a rush of shock made my blood cells do a flip when I saw how red and puffy his eyes were, but I continued on as if I hadn’t noticed. “I thought I’d torture you with my company instead.”
He groaned, but I saw the tiniest hint of a smile in his eyes as he sat back, leaving the door open for me.
***
We went to sleep nose to nose, our knees tucked up between us, closer than we’d been in so long but not close enough that I thought for even a second that he wanted anything more of me than a comforting friend. When I came here and when David agreed to be by my side, I never imagined
he’d
be the one that needed
me
. He seemed to have lost a lot more in my dad’s passing than I had. Maybe it was because he felt he let my dad down—that if he stood face-to-face with him, he couldn’t justify the way he’d treated me. He was mean. Meaner than he needed to be. But he was also very hurt. And I believed, to my core, that Dad would've understood that. Yet, there was no convincing David.
When I opened my eyes, the daylight had already settled around the room. But the bed beside me was bare and cold. He’d clearly been gone for quite some time. I just hoped, as I hopped out of bed and quickly got dressed, that he was okay.
He was right there in plain sight, though, when I opened the door—right across the hall, leaning on the doorframe of my old room, his arms folded over his body, his thoughts a million miles away.
“What’re you doing?”
He stood up off the frame and let his arms fall loosely to his sides. “Just … thinking.”
“About?”
“The past.” He went to close the door but I stopped him, gazing into the open, airy space like it was a long lost photo from my childhood. The window was open, the cool breeze coming in with the distinct and familiar scene of the paint-chipped old rope swing in the oak tree. My bed was gone, as was everything else, aside from the old, squeaky-hinged mirror Vicki put in here on my wedding day, but it was almost like I could still feel all my old things in this room—as if they’d never been packed away—like nothing had ever changed.
“So many memories in this one room.” I hugged myself, picturing all the times my dad told me bedtime stories or sat in here talking with me about my problems. But over the top of all of that was the summer I fell in love with a vampire. I could still see him leaping through my window, still see the rose I left behind with the locket
—still see all the nights we laid in my bed, talking about nothing, both of us so full of hope for a future that was never promised. And a great sense of sadness overwhelmed me to see that hope meet with the truth.
“You’re right,” David said, his familiar green eyes on me when I looked up. “It is sad.”
“We’ve left a lot behind, you and I.”
“I know.” He exhaled through his nose. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“You were?”
“Yeah
…” He looked around the room. “We had something really special when we were younger. But…”
“There’s no going back,” I said with a nod.
He exhaled again. “Not for us, no.”
“You know, sometimes, when I look at you…” I faced him then. “I get the sense that you hate me for something more than just sleeping with your brother, because I also sometimes get this … I guess, like a
feeling
—” I touched my chest, “—that you forgive me for it.”
The little blue bird, or maybe a descendant of the little blue bird, that used to dance on my windowsill most mornings filled the silence with his little song, doing his usual tricks in the condensation puddle right in front of my window.
“It’s not about forgiveness anymore, Ar,” David said softly, tilting his head to one side. “It’s about love.”
“Love?”
“You
love
my brother. There’s no room for me in that heart of yours, and I just can’t spend eternity fighting for you—trying to be the only guy. You’ve
never
wanted just me.”
“That’s not true, David. And you know it!”
“Okay.” He put his hands up defensively. “I’ll admit, that time between the lighthouse accident and the confession about … my brother, things were pretty good. But … what we had then doesn’t change what’s been done. And I don’t…” He stopped talking and closed his eyes for a second. “You hurt me, Ara. More than anyone has ever hurt me before, and I don’t
want
to love you again. I’m sorry. It’s hard for me to stand here in the midst of our past and say those words to you. But, I can’t change what I feel.”
I looked down at my shoes, trying to block out all the flashes of the past that lit up the present, showing me the two young kids standing right here, pledging their love to each other so long ago. But it all went grey when I flashed forward to the day I first met Jase at the masquerade, and any feelings of fear or disgust I had for David’s brother then no longer fit the scene: there was only love. And for David, now, there was only hatred. “And neither can I,” I said. “But I am sorry I slept with him, David. I hope you at least know that.”
“I do know. And I’m sorry, too.” His shoulders dropped with a heavy breath. “I don’t like it, you know? You and Jason. And I
don’t
condone it. But it’s your life, Ara, which I’m not a part of anymore, so … I just want you to know that … I
will
respect it. At least.”
“What?” I looked up in dead shock.
“I’m not completely unreasonable.” He half smiled. “When I’m hurt, I can be a jackass, I know that. You
certainly
know that. And it’s only been a little over a month. I’m
still
hurt. That will probably never go away. But I
am
capable of decency.”
My head rolled off to one side, my bottom lip folding out playfully. “I appreciate you saying that.”
He nodded and backed away slowly, taking in my room and me for a moment longer. “There are a
lot
of memories in here.”
“Yeah.” I nodded, my jaw quivering. “Too many to bear, I think.”
“Come on then.” He jerked his head toward the hall, his hand on the door handle. “Let’s not dwell on the past any longer.”
***
Sam wrapped his arms around my head, bending my neck awkwardly up where my chin met with his chest. “I’ll miss ya, sis.”
“I’ll miss you, too.” I patted his back. “And you can come stay with us any time you want.” Even if it meant I had to tell him the truth about vampires.
He nodded, standing back. “I might just take you up on that.”
“Good.” I punched him playfully in the arm. “Look after Mom, okay?”
“I will. No choice now,” he said, jerking his thumb in her direction. “Only parent I got left.”
I laughed softly, shaking my head. “That’s distasteful, Sam.”
“Well, Dad would've laughed.”
“Yeah.” I smiled. “He would have. Will you be okay?”
He half nodded, half shrugged. “I’m more worried about you, sis. I’ve got Mom, you know? You just lost your last parent.”
“Well, that’s not entirely true.” I looked over at Vicki, who broke
into tears as she hugged David goodbye. “She’s
my
mom, too.”
“I know.” He inclined his head, leaning a bit closer. “I just wasn’t sure you still felt that way.”
“Well, I do.” I bit my lip, looking up at my own little family of vampire knights, hiding in the trees, watching. “Family isn’t always about blood, Sam. No one knows that better than me.”
“Dad woulda been proud to hear you say that.” He reached across and flicked my arm affectionately. “Don’t be a stranger, now, okay?”
“And make sure you bring my granddaughter home for a visit when she’s born,” Vicki said, moving in for a hug.
“I will.” I squeezed her tightly, leaning so my bump didn’t get squashed. “I promise.”
The rest of the guys piled into the car, Mike in the driver’s seat, David in the back, but Vicki stopped me as I broke away.
“Oh, gosh darn it. Ara. Before you go, I have something for you,” she said, turning to Sam. “Run up and grab that black bag, would you?”
“Sure.” Sam sprinted off, taking a quick leap over what once was a creaky old step and flew in through the front door.
“I dug it out the other day to give to you, but I…” Vicki rubbed her brow vigorously. “It just kept slipping my mind.”
Sam darted out from inside then and came to a stop beside Vicki, handing her a small velvet sack.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It’s an heirloom—one your father had planned to pass on to you when you had a daughter one day.” She smiled warmly at my bump. “Seems like it’s time now.”
I rolled my palm to cup the weighted bag as she laid it in my hand, then tugged the yellow ribbon until it came loose.
“It was worn by each of your ancestors while they carried their firstborn daughters, then passed on when they had daughters of their own,” Vicki said as I reached inside. “So, from what I know, it’s centuries old.”
That was an understatement. I could feel the ancient energies still surrounding the cool metal inside, like it had a life-force of its own, drawing me in until the rest of the world slowly faded to white. I curled my fingers outward to get a better look at it against my palm: a delicate silver circle confined the twisted, bare branches of a tree, while the tangled roots reached far below, meeting the edge of the charm like an end to a story. And knotted among those roots, like a prisoner caged over time, was a strikingly vibrant blue stone. It was neither gem nor rock, neither sparkled
nor glowed, but seemed alive—pulsing, sort of. “This has to be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”