Page 36 of Missing Moon
River looks back and forth between us. “No way you’re Sam.”
I hold up my hand next. “Guilty as charged.”
“How the hell…” He looks me over for a moment, then lowers his voice. “Did you figure out the weird shit?”
I bite my lip. “What do you mean?”
He wiggles his fingers like he’s pantomiming someone doing magic. “The weird shit Mom used to do.”
Oh wow. Am I the last one to find out that Mom is a witch? I mean, it’s kinda stupid to assume she isn’t. Bloodline and all, right? “Yeah, maybe.”
River nods, taking it in stride like it’s no big deal his little sister is using magic to stay young-looking. Totally ordinary thing for someone to do.
My brothers, Mary Lou, and I get into a quick catch-up session that the kids aren’t the least bit interested in. Clayton left his new girlfriend home because she had zero interest in being around morbid family drama. This gets him asking River and Dusk if they have any families. Dusk’s a committed bachelorwith a string of one night stands from Italy to Norway, or so he claims. River briefly mentions that he’s been married—and divorced—twice. He’s got three kids. Two boys from his first wife and a daughter with his second wife. He’d been working as a heavy equipment operator with a construction company up until a year ago when his employer abruptly filed chapter eleven and went under.
“Can’t be that hard to find work, right?” asks Clayton.
River smiles. “Not too hard, I suppose, but I needed a change of scenery. Been up in Alaska.”
“Holy shit. That’s a ways off.” Dusk laughs.
“Says Michaelangelo.” River snickers.
“The heck are you doing in Alaska?” asks Clayton.
River laughs. “Working on a fishing boat. Totally random, I know, and it’s kicking my ass. Once the contract’s over, I’m probably going back to construction.”
When Clayton admits to having a nice, cushy office job, Dusk and River start teasing the absolute hell out of him. The boy who hated wearing clothes and spent most of his teens high as a kite on marijuana ended up with the lamest, most ordinary job as an adult. Dusk is particularly amused by this. Then again, he always hated structure. I don’t think it’s biologically possible for his brain to tolerate an actual job. Nothing involving an alarm clock and set times is compatible with him.
Eventually, Mary Lou wrangles order out of chaos. It’s almost eleven in the morning now and visiting hours at the hospital are starting soon. Time to go visit Dad. Is it strange for me to be more anxious about that than confronting whatever vampire mess is going on out here? Yeah, that is weird. What kind of person would be less afraid of taking on vampires in a life or death fight than visiting their dying father?
I’m not afraid of Dad. It’s fear of guilt. Maybe I don’t want to see him old and frail. Now that I know whatever’s going on with Mom wasn’t just her being distant or crappyto us on purpose, it makes his attitude seem all the more logical. The kids weren’t the only people affected by Mom losing her soul. Dad didn’t know how to handle it, either. How could he? And who did he have to go to for help? No one. I mean, he could’ve confided in us, or at least Mary Lou, but never did. He just dove headfirst into the weeds... or into weed.
Dusk helps Mom up and guides her outside. Somehow, she manages to walk on her own.
A small silver car sits near the door, obviously the one River and Clayton arrived in. It, too, has Enterprise Rental license plate frames. No idea what it is, but it’s so damn small I think it would be more appropriate to say people ‘wear’ it rather than getintoit.
Between Rick’s giant Ford Excursion and my Momvan, there’s enough room for everyone. We put Mom in the passenger seat of the Excursion. I get all the kids. Mine, plus Mary Lou’s, as well as Clayton. Everyone else squeezes into the big Ford.
Rick doesn’t know where he’s going around here, so I pull out first and lead the way.
Onward to Klamath.
Chapter Fifteen
Dad
Walking into the hospital room is not a pleasant experience.
I hate hospitals. I mean, they’re good, don’t get me wrong. Being in them just bothers me. Nearly every memory I have associated with them is bad. Sure, the birth of my two kids counts as happy memories. Yet, somehow the days where little Anthony was dying in one completely overshadows them. Then, there’s the time I woke up in one after my attack. My first conscious moments as a vampire are painted in hospital green.
Danny told me I might’ve killed someone in a blackout. I don’t remember it, and I try not to think about it. Ugh. I sure hope not.
Klamath only has one hospital. It’s not the most advanced medical center in the world, but Dad’s at the point where nothing’s really going to change his fate. He’s here purely for palliative care until… yeah. Mom’s going to wind up alone and stuck with a huge bill. Well, she’s going to end up alone. I’ll deal with the bill. It’s the least I can do. Pretty sure my parents don’t have a lot of money. I happen to still have a little left. Additionally, some of my latest cases have paid fairly well.
We find him lying in bed. He’s so thin. It’s hard to look at him without wanting to cry. All those years of being angry at him for calling me too stupid for college don’t mean anything now. I should’ve buried the hatchet and talked to him. Kept telling myself that if he made the first effort to reach out, I’d stop holding a grudge. Somewhere along the line, grudge became secrecy for vampire reasons. I went past some invisible line where I couldn’t explain myself not looking older anymore and just chickened out. Avoiding the issue entirely was easier.
If the hospital staff hadn’t told me this was Artie Sundance, I wouldn’t have recognized the fragile creature in this bed. It takes me a few minutes of watching him breathe, studying his face, to reconcile what my eyes are telling me with my memory. If I didn’t have Anthony and Tammy here to squeeze, I’d probably have looked for an excuse to back out of the room and hide. This can’t be my father. This ninety-pound skeleton isn’t the same man who barked at me about going to college.