Page 39 of Never Invite a Vampire to Dinner

“What do you need?” Julian asks.

“Are you asking me or the town?”

“I assumed there was no difference.”

I stare at him, and Lucy makes a tiny choking noise.

“Fine,” I say. “You can stay.”

“I had hoped.”

“Can you wrap sandwiches?”

“I believe so.”

“That is not confidence.”

“I have never wrapped an egg sandwich.”

I hand him one.

“Today is full of firsts.”

His eyes meet mine. Oh. That was not what I meant. Or possibly it was. The corner of his mouth moves, and Lucy walks away without a word.

Coward.

I put Julian beside Harriet. This lasts six minutes.

“He’s too slow,” Harriet says.

Julian looks down at the sandwich in his hands. The paper is folded into perfect symmetrical corners. The seam is tucked. The whole thing looks ready to be presented to a minor European monarch.

“It’s an egg sandwich,” I tell him. “Not a diplomatic treaty.”

“I am attempting to do it properly.”

“Properly is inside the paper.”

Harriet snatches it out of his hands.

“Watch.”

She wraps one in approximately two seconds. Julian watches with the concentration of a man receiving battlefield instruction. By the third sandwich, he’s got it.

“Better,” Harriet says.

“Thank you.”

“Now go find something heavy.”

He looks at me, and I sigh. “Don’t encourage her.”

“What do you need?”

There’s that question again.

“Mrs. Abernathy needs six breakfasts. No shellfish anywhere in the bag because her mother’s still with her.”