Page 59 of Vampires of Eden
A car horn honks and we both look up to see headlights shining through the downpour. It’s Kathryn in Daniel’s van. We walk up to meet her with me still holding my jacket over Daniel as a poor excuse for an umbrella. Soon, we open the passenger’s side door and climb into shelter.
Daniel scoots inside first, then I follow. When I’m in, I shut the door and the rain outside is muffled. God. I’m wetand my clothes and hair are stuck to me like plaster, but the new environment is a welcomed one. Thankfully, it’s warm in the van. Christ, that was insane.
“I told you it was going to rain,” Kathryn says flatly. “But you two are hard-headed, aren’t you?”
“I didn’t think it’d be likethis,” I argue. “This is fucking insane!”
Daniel shivers hard beside me and my focus zeroes in on him. “Are you cold? Should we turn up the heat?”
He shakes his head and it almost looks like he’s crying. I’m getting really concerned. That is, until he throws his head back and lets out the most boisterous, joyous laughter I’ve ever heard from him. Maybe from anybody?
“I am cold,” he says in-between desperate breaths. “But you—you just fell overflatinto the mud!” He bends forward, shaking his head as if the laughter has overtaken his entire body. “You didn’t catch yourself at all! Like a broom that toppled over onto the floor.” He is crying now, but it’s definitely not because he’s injured.
“I can’t breathe,” he says, sitting back and holding his stomach as his frame rumbles from pure and unfiltered amusement.
Somehow, and despite my muddy and soaked state, his laughter is infectious. I chuckle as well, half amused at how ridiculous I must have looked. But I’m still concerned. “I was worried about you?—”
“You should be worried about yourself and your horrible, un-cat-like reflexes. Has Buffy taught you nothing?” He laughs, and I laugh, too.
Kathryn shakes her head as she turns the van around. “You two are an absolute mess. Literally and figuratively.”
As we get closer to the house, Daniel’s laughter shifts into fits of deep chest-heaving coughs. After a particularly violent one passes, I glance over at him. “You don’t seem okay.”
He coughs again, trying to clear his throat unsuccessfully. “Yeah, I’m probably not.”
After the torrential-rain and garbage incident, Daniel does indeed get sick. I have zero clue as to what his being ill entails, but Leoni messages me to let me know he’s unwell.
It isn’t my fault that he’s sick. I didn’t make him come with me to take out the trash. Regardless, I feel partly responsible.
I asked if he’s still up for a visitor and some TV watching today, and Leoni said that he was. So, I stopped by the upscale grocer downtown to pick up some things, and now I’m on my way to visit the cottage.
It’s another gray and rainy day as I drive, except the precipitation is normal. Not pouring in fucking buckets. I like these kinds of days because the valleys are foggy and the air smells clean. Like Mother Nature is rinsing and refreshing everything in preparation for a new season.
Two hours later, I park outside the cottage, grab my paper grocery bag and hustle through the misty rain and onto the porch.
“Puercoespííín, holaaaa,” Leoni sings to me in greeting, smiling warmly as she opens the door.
“You’re so silly,” I tell her, mirroring her jovial mood and grin. “Hey.” She steps aside and Daniel comes into view. He’s on the couch with his knees drawn up, facing the door. His bun is larger than usual and disheveled atop his head. He’s wrapped in a red crocheted blanket as he stares at me from across the distance.
“Hi,” I say to him after slipping out of my damp shoes and coat. “I brought some things.”
“What kinds of things?” Leoni asks, lifting to her toes to peek inside my bag. I’m about to sit in the arm chair beside the couch when she pinches my waist lightly and redirects me with her palm on my lower back. It surprises me like always, but I only jump a little.
“Sit there.” She juts her chin toward the opposite end of the couch where Daniel is sitting. Since his knees are drawn up, there’s plenty of space for another person. Nodding, I sit down. She takes the arm chair.
Setting the bag on the coffee table, I remove my goods. “You said he didn’t need anything, but… I brought some orange juice, strawberries and apples. Maximum vitamin C. This is a veggie broth that I’ve tried before—it’s really tasty. Could help? And this is a ginger drink that I like. Plus, the chips that I devoured the last time I was here. I bought two bags—one for myself this time.” It’d be stupid to bring them a replacement bag, then eat it all by myself, yet again.
“Puercoespííín, you’re so sweet. ¿Me regalas algunas fresas? ¡Las lavaré y cortaré para todos.”
Can I have some strawberries? I’ll wash and cut them up for us.
“Claro, no me molesta,” I say. “Are you watchingBuffywith us today?”
“Heck no.” She stands, repacking the bag. “You can keep Buffy to yourselves. I’ve got blending stuff to do in the cellar. But I’ll take some strawberries as a snack and leave the rest for you two.” She lifts the bag, carrying the groceries to the kitchen.
I turn and look at Daniel. The fire is lit and burning low in the hearth. It makes his light eyes fiery and a smidge orange, like a blank canvas mirroring its surrounding. Maybe it’s because of the soft shadows in the room, but his eyes are weighted with dark bags.
I lift my hand in a quick wave. “Hi.”
