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“All right.” I let my hands slide off my hips and make my way around the sofa toward my room. Time to change into something more comfortable. “I think we can manage a nice little party here.”
Chapter Two
An Overabundance of Pink
Paxton’s big day lands on a Thursday this year.
She’s not even upset about having to go to school tomorrow. Used to work with a guy named Josh who had this thing about working on his birthday. He’d always take the day off, threatening to quit if he couldn’t. If his birthday happened on a Thursday, he’d also take Friday off. Worked with him at this little café near my dorm room when I was in college. Wonder if he kept that tradition going into his real job.
The past few days have been full of wonderful normality. Lots of paperwork and internet sleuthing most people would find interminably boring. Had my life not gone crazy, I’d likely have also considered it boring. Now? I don’t mind at all. The dial can’t be set to eleven all the time, right?
I’m relaxing on a folding lounge chair in my backyard enjoying the late afternoon sun while Paxton and some of her friends from school are having fun with various outdoor yard games. I’ve lost track of what exactly they’re playing now other than chasing some sort of foam disc back and forth while trying not to crash into the folding tables and make a huge mess. Ten girls, three boys, and one mildly begrudging kid brother appear to be having a decent enough time for a backyard party that lacks a pool. The little boy’s probably around six. His sister, one of Pax’s classmates, had to watch him since the parents are somehow occupied. I think it’s more likely their parents wanted me to babysit the boy while they did something.
Whatever. I don’t mind. He doesn’t seem like a bad kid, just a bit out of place among the older kids.
The most important thing is Paxton is happy.
Renae is here as well and I’m surprised at the lack of a strange mood hanging between them. Anyone who didn’t know them would think they’re just good friends and never had a romantic entanglement. I suppose they really didn’t have a romantic entanglement if I’m being honest with myself. They’re just kids, after all.
Anyway, I haven’t seen this much pink in… well, ever. The paper plates, the disposable tablecloths, the plastic cutlery, the plush animal presents… Her favorite gift is a massive stuffed unicorn Tammy got her. The darn thing’s as big or maybe even a little bigger than an average adult Rottweiler dog. Yeah, Paxton is not your typical teenager. She’s more thrilled about a giant plushie than electronic gadgets or video games.
Even though I still look like I’m in my later twenties thanks to the whole vampirism thing, I’m starting to feel old. Details of my fourteenth birthday are blurry. My parents had numerous flaws, though the one thing they did seem to get mostly right was kid birthday parties. They never forgot our birthdays and always had a cake. It got somewhat cheesy after a while. I mean, they threw the same kind of party for eighteen-year-old me as they did when I turned six. We didn’t have a lot of money growing up, so celebrations were fairly low key.
Tammy’s relaxing in the lounge chair beside me. We’re not really sunbathing since neither one of us is wearing a swimsuit. I referred to what we’re doing as ‘chillaxing,’ which earned me an eye roll. Guess no amount of immortal power stops a mom from sounding lame when trying to talk like a teenager. That randomly makes me think about a centuries-old vampire trying to fit in with a modern crowd and totally botching the slang.
“What are you laughing about?” asks Tammy while staring intently at the kids in search of something funny.
“Not them. Just a silly thought.” I sip my iced tea and explain how my brain went from my failure at ‘chillaxing’ to the idea of an ancient vampire walking around modern times calling things ‘groovy.’
This gets us talking about the strangeness of language. When did it start that a younger generation used phrases that confounded their elders? Like, back in the 1400s, did teenagers whip out the medieval equivalent ‘yeet’? Our conversation goes to the absurd as soon as Tammy takes it to an extreme: caveman teenagers grunting in slang ways.
Pax and the kids look at us when we burst out laughing, then rather self-consciously check around to make sure no one is doing anything silly or experiencing an embarrassing wardrobe issue like chocolate frosting on the seat of their pants. Satisfied we probably aren’t laughing at them, they resume their game.
Once the laughter subsides, Tammy looks up at the clouds and emits this noise that’s part ‘ugh’ and part impatience.
“What?” I ask.
She shrugs one shoulder, then sorta smiles. “This party is so girly sweet, I think I’m getting diabetes. Having so much pink in one place should be illegal.”
I chuckle. “Well, I appreciate you suffering through it.”
She waves dismissively. “No big deal. Just glad it makes you happy to finally have the girly girl you always wanted… even if you missed her Barbie phase.”
I sigh. No, I’m not sad that I missed having Paxton around when she was little. I’m sad she had to spend her childhood living in fear. Okay, maybe I’m building that up to be worse than it was for her. Then again, the man murdered Paxton’s mother when she was only two. Kiddo did not have a normal childhood at all.
I will never understand how a person can do something like that and then go on living like nothing happened.
Right. Enough bad thoughts. This is supposed to be a happy day.
“Sorry,” says Tammy.
“It’s fine. Just thinking about how I wish I could’ve gotten her out of that situation sooner.”
“Technically, you might be able to with that time ring.” Tammy grimace smiles. “Assuming you didn’t somehow make things much worse.”
“Oof.” I fidget. “I wish it were so simple. Can’t jump back in time to save everyone who got killed. Things get really ugly. If someone’s fated to die, and I stop it… they’re likely to die really soon after in some other way. Assuming I don’t cause a dimensional fork and create an entirely new alternate reality.”
“My brain hurts,” says Tammy.
