Page 13 of My Blind Date is a Vampire

It didn’t take long for me to fall into a routine. After getting off work, I’d pass by The Eat to pick up my takeout dinner—I hadn’t cooked a single meal since school started on Monday, too lazy to prepare anything after spending the day on my feet. Rachel and I would talk while I waited on my meal, though it was mostly her filling me in on all the town gossip: who was feuding with who, who to steer clear off, who to call if I had a burst pipe.

“Why are there so many feuds?” I laughed, nursing a glass of ice water while Rachel passed drink orders to the waitstaff and wiped down the counter. So far, she’d told me of three families who had long-standing animosity and no less than five personal grudges among some people who were, funnily enough, considered to be pillars of the community. The most interesting one was the supposed cold war between the local Catholic priest and Beverly’s group, which included Dawn, Destiny, and Principal Hawthorne. I tried to get Rachel to spill on what the feud was about, but she hedged on the details and told me it was simply a difference of opinions and that it was better to get the answer straight from the horse’s mouth.

“Beverly’s a little kooky, and I guess Father Granger finds it hard to reason with her most times. He’s banned Beverly from ever setting foot in the church after she brought weed brownies to the church’s annual bake sale. She claimed that Father Granger and his sheep need to remove the sticks from up their butts and enjoy life the way it was meant to be enjoyed.”

I gaped at her, imagining a Catholic priest and his parishioners high on weed and making fools of themselves, laughter bubbling up in my throat. If this Father Granger was anything like the pastor from my childhood back when grandma used to force us to attend Sunday services, it was a miracle Beverly had not been run out of town yet.

“That’s one feud explained, but what about the rest? I heard the sheriff was called in to diffuse a situation between Kate Ridley and Anna Hawthorne at the pizza place after school yesterday.” I was referring to Principal Hawthorne’s youngest daughter, who was in the senior class I was teaching, and another one of my students. Both girls were sweet as pie from what I’d observed in class—unless they were dealing with each other. At first, I thought it was a typical teenage squabble between two girls trying to cement their position at the very top of the high school hierarchy, but I was quickly learning that their dislike for each other extended to their parents as well.

Rachel slung the dishcloth over her shoulder and leaned across the counter in front of me. She had switched out her nose ring for a flower-shaped stud with a pink crystal in the center and, as usual, she looked as if she’d be more at home behind the counter at a biker bar than a swanky place like The Eat. She had a bemused expression as she explained the reasoning behind all the conflict.

“I heard about that. I’m told there was hair pulling and an epic food fight.” She paused to ring up a bill for one of the tables before coming back to where I was seated. “Most of the family feuds are generational. Someone’s great-great-grandfather wronged the other family’s great-great-grandfather and the feud picked up from there, with each generation taking it up a notch. Take the Hawthornes and the Ridleys for example. The only reason the women in both families can’t stand each other is because they are always trying to one-up each other by stealing the other’s man, and that’s only because Mary Hawthorne stole Priscilla Ridley’s bridegroom a hundred and fifty years ago or something,” Rachel said in a dry tone, rolling her eyes at the ridiculousness of it all.

“I wonder if Principal Hawthorne ever stole someone’s man,” I thought out loud. The woman was a knockout. I could easily picture her in my head as a twenty-something-year-old with all the young men of Mystic Cove eating from the palm of her hand.

“You can call her Catherine, you know. Only the students refer to her as Principal Hawthorne.” Rachel flicked my forehead. One of the waiters came from the kitchen with my takeout bag and I dug out some cash to pay for the food plus a tip for the waiter. “I like calling her Principal Hawthorne. It just flows better. See you tomorrow night?”

“Seven p.m.,” she reminded me. “And come prepared with a fly swatter cause the men of Mystic Cove have been chomping at the bit to put the moves on you. If I had a dollar for every question that’s been thrown at me about you and whether you’re available, I could probably afford to pay for the bistro’s kitchen renovations.” She smirked at me.

Landon’s face immediately popped into my head. I almost told Rachel that I was, in fact, not single, but we’d only been on one date with plans for the second. And even though we’d been texting and talking on the phone almost every night since Monday, we were still yet to define our relationship. I didn’t want to jump the gun, so I kept my date with Landon to myself.

“Duly noted,” I told Rachel.

* * *

Friday felt like it was dragging on. The students were not paying attention to a word I said. Like me, they were raring to get out and enjoy those last remaining days of summer before the leaves turned red and brown.

As for me, I couldn’t wait to get a couple of drinks and see what Mystic Cove had to offer on a Friday night. Plus, with each hour that passed, it was an hour closer to my date with Landon. He was getting back in town in a few hours, and I was tempted to ditch my standing plans with Rachel to spend some time with him, but I didn’t want to be that kind of girl. Though, I did invite Landon to join us, and it looked like he’d been willing until he heard that it was Rachel Holland I was going out with. His reluctance and demeanor set off alarm bells in my mind. The ghost of Toby and Jess’s betrayal came back to haunt me and a whole bunch of questions started swarming in my mind. Like, what if he and Rachel had dated in the past? Was she one of the women Beverly had set him up with who didn’t work out? What if it was only a matter of time before they realized they really were soulmates and that Beverly had been right all along? Ugh, I was spiraling already.

I thought about bringing Landon up to Rachel, so Friday after school, instead of heading straight home and squeezing in a thirty-minute nap like I wanted to before going out for the night, I decided to stop by The Eat again. I drove past The Book Coven and decided on a whim that maybe Bev would be more forthcoming if I asked her instead of possibly offending and alienating the woman who was quickly becoming my new best friend.

There were no parking spaces near the bookshop, so I had to drive around the block and park my car in the grocery store parking lot.

Beverly was helping some customers when I walked in, but she spotted me the moment I walked through the door, the wind chimes alerting her to my presence. I finger waved at her and walked over to the bookshelves to see if there were any other books I might want to buy while she conducted her business. Like the last time I was here, the store smelled of incense—frankincense if I wasn’t mistaken—and German folk music was playing in the background.

I picked out a book on the history of Mystic Cove and a tourist guide. I’d still yet to explore it fully, but I did have an interest in at least checking out the hiking trails and maybe talking Bennett and Sarah into bringing the twins up for skiing lessons during the Christmas holiday.

“And here I thought I was going to have to seek you out myself and pry the details out of you. Landon has his lips sealed tighter than Fort Knox, but I’ll go out on a limb and assume things went well,” she said with a smug smile and an “I told you so” ring to her tone.

“Hi, Beverly. How are you doing on this fine day? I’m fine, thanks for asking. Love the hair color, by the way,” I drawled, placing the books on the counter and admiring her new midnight blue hair tied back in a loose braid that fell over her shoulder. To think that she was supposedly a friend of Landon’s grandmother when she had more vitality in her pinky finger than I’d ever had in twenty-nine years.

“Oh, pooh! Do not make me ask again, girl, or you won’t like how I go about extracting the information I need.” She scowled at me, sounding like a cranky old bat.

I huffed out an exasperated breath. “The date went better than expected, and we’re meeting up again tomorrow.”

You’d think I just told her she won the lotto or something the way she smiled and went on to give herself a pat on the back.

“That’s actually why I’m here. Landon told me that you tried to set him up in the past but nothing panned out. This is a small town, and I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes…”

“Goddess, grant me patience. If you want to know if Landon had any ex-lovers who’d want to claw your eyes out, the answer is no. The stubborn boy hasn’t been with anyone in years. Most of the women he’s been with were flings he bedded for no longer than a few weeks at most before moving on. That’s the most I can tell you. Anything else you want to know, ask the boy directly. It seems the both of you have a long way to go before you well and truly commit to each other.” Beverly harrumphed and shook her head impatiently.

“Insta-love only works in movies and romance novels, Bev. What did you expect? That we’d take one look at each other, get on the first plane to Vegas, and get hitched right there and then?”

“Do not take that tone of voice with me, young lady. A word of advice from a wizened old hag? Stop looking for reasons why things could go wrong in your relationship with the boy and just go with the flow. I’m not saying it will be smooth sailing from here on out—goddess knows there’s still a lot you’ve yet to learn about each other—but it will all be worth the joy and happiness you find.”

CHAPTER 15

Beverly’s words were still circling around in my head as I pulled into The Drinking Hole’s parking lot that evening. Right around the same time, Rachel made quite the spectacular entrance when she rolled in on her impressive Yamaha motorcycle. Wolf whistles and cheers sounded behind me from the patrons who were lingering in the parking lot, knocking back drinks in the back of a truck.

---