Bite Me (The Transfigured Ones Book 2) (7 page)

Chapter Eight

Caroline smoothed back an escaped wisp of hair from her otherwise sleek ponytail and cursed. Digging through her bag, she fished a bobby pin out, then pinned it back. She gave herself another once-over with the visor mirror then exhaled deeply. It was now or never.

Caroline would have gladly worked doubles for ten days straight to avoid this afternoon. In fact, had it not been her grandmother's birthday she would have happily used work as an excuse. That would have been a cowardly way to handle it though. She would just have to grin and bear the 'afternoon tea' party that her mother had planned.

She slid out of the car and made her way up the walk, straightening the hem of her teal dress. With the nude colored belt around the waist, the matching shoes, and bag, it was sophisticated without being showy. She didn't normally consider herself fashionable. In fact, she hated to shop. She'd been particularly proud of this purchase though.

Her hand poised on the doorknob, Caroline jumped when the front door was suddenly pulled open. She had her hand pressed to her heart, ready to laugh when a man in a dark suit said, “Welcome, Miss. Right this way.”

“Um. I know the way. Thanks, though,” she said, waving him off. Had her mother seriously hired a butler for the party? She couldn't wait to see the look on her grandmother's face when she saw all this nonsense.

“Caroline,” her mother cooed. “So glad you could finally make it. Your grandmother is asking about you.”

Caroline automatically apologized, “Sorry, Mom. I hit a little bit of traffic on the way up.”

Her mother gave a dismissive wave of her hand and eyed her dress. “That's not a flattering color on you, dear. Darker colors make you look less fat. Why did I bother taking you to get your colors done if you were going to wear whatever you wanted anyway?”

              Before Caroline could muster a response, her mother flounced out the sliding glass door with a huff. She was on the way to go take it out on someone else, no doubt. Caroline couldn't help the equal parts guilt and relief that flooded her. At least the staff was being paid to take it.

Eventually she realized no one else was in the house so she wandered out into the back yard, her eyes widening the over the top decorations. Her mother had even had a small white tent set up. Caroline saw a server ducking out of the tent and making her way through the side yard. Were they not even allowed in the house?

There were several tables draped in white linen tablecloths. Lace doilies for as far as the eye could see. Fresh cut flowers on each table. A small string quartet played off to the side. Her mother had really gone all out for this.

Caroline continued to scan the yard until she finally saw her grandmother under the awning, fanning herself and drinking some iced tea. “Nana,” she said, her heart warming. If there was one person who truly understood her, it was this woman.

“Caroline, darling,” she said, her face lighting up. “Give me a hug. It's been too long.”

“It has,” she agreed regretfully. When Caroline leaned in she whispered, “She hired a butler?”

Her grandmother let out a hoot and answered, “I've already discussed it with him. We're going to make a break for it at four o'clock whether the festivities have ended or not. You're welcome to come along. He's mine, though. You'll have to get your own!”

Giving her one last squeeze, Caroline giggled and said, “I've actually got that covered, I think.”

Eyebrow arched, her grandmother asked, “Oh really? Please tell me he's better than the last idiot you brought around?”

Caroline flushed. Nana was honest to a fault. Her ex-boyfriend, Lincoln, had been a complete jerk. “A ton better, actually. I think you'll really like him.”

“Why didn't you bring him then? I'm an old woman. I haven't got much time left,” she sighed dramatically, fanning herself and taking another swig of the iced tea.

“Pssh, Nana.  You're going to outlive us all. But, um. I didn't bring him along because he doesn't really do the whole 'in the sun' thing.”

Her grandmother blinked incredulously for a moment before she started laughing. “He's Transfigured? Oh my. You'll have to bring him around for dinner one of these evenings if things get more serious. Better yet, let's all go out one evening. We can invite your mother and father along. I'm sure they'll love it.”

Caroline snorted indelicately. “I can picture it now. We can go to that Mexican place and get all you can eat tacos. And a pitcher of margaritas. Then they'd officially be in a waking nightmare. Happy people in a jovial atmosphere, eating ethnic food, drinking tequila along with a Transfigured man who would rather be drinking their utterly disappointing daughter's blood. Mom would have a nervous breakdown.”

Her grandmother made a sound of disgust. “Any life where you don't turn out like her, I consider a rousing success. I still don't know what Jonathan sees in her.”

Waving her hand, Caroline said, “I didn't mean to get all dark on you there, Nana. It's your day. Happy Birthday. Let's talk about something more upbeat.”

“Now I want tacos. We should really do that some evening. We can skip the other part, but we'll go out. You can bring your beau! He likes tacos, right?”

“Beau? Are you dating someone, Caroline? This is the first I'm hearing of it!”

Her grandmother winced in apology.

Caroline turned to see her mother hovering beside them. It was clear that she hadn't heard the blood drinking bit, thankfully. She likely would have gone through the roof immediately. “Yes, Mother. We've only been seeing each other for a couple of weeks though. It's nothing serious.”

“And it will never be anything serious if you keep running around like that, Caroline. Come inside with me before the guests begin to arrive. I might have a girdle that will fit you.”

Her mother stared pointedly at her stomach until Caroline could feel her face heat up. She opened her mouth to speak but her grandmother cut her off.

“For god's sake, Joan. It's over eighty degrees outside. Let the poor girl breathe. She looks perfectly lovely. Not everyone is a stick insect. Myself included!”

With a roll of her eyes, her mother said, “You indulge her too much, Beverly.”

Caroline took a deep, calming breath and stood up. “Thank you for the support, Nana. I appreciate your offer but I won't be needing your girdle, mother.” Without another word to either of them, she walked toward the sliding glass door. She needed a minute or she was going to lose her mind.

By the time the guests arrived, most of the earlier awkwardness disappeared. She was seated at a table between her grandmother and mother, fanning herself with one of the paper fans her mother designed as party favors. It was the hottest part of the day, and the humidity hung in the air. She tried to ignore the trickle of sweat down her back as her cousin Heather talked about school.

Caroline graduated from the same high school years before so some of the names were familiar. Mr. Marguilles, the phys ed coach, was still a pervert. The Dingmans, a husband and wife team that both taught math, still hadn't mastered the art of using a hairbrush. It was funny how some things didn't change.

At least the food was good, she acknowledged, reaching for another of the prawn finger sandwiches on the tray in the center of the table. She jumped slightly when she felt a smack on her hand. “Mother,” she exclaimed. “Did you seriously just slap my hand away from the food?”

“Someone had to,” her mother huffed in response.

“Joan!” her grandmother gasped. “You stop that!”

Irritable, Caroline said, “That was my second finger sandwich of the afternoon, for the record. Not that it matters, mother, because you're not enjoying yourself unless you're complaining about
something
I've done.” She shoved her chair back and dropped her napkin on the table.

Leaning over, she gave her grandmother a squeeze. “I've gotta go. I think I've been humiliated just about as much as I can handle this afternoon. I'm sorry, Nana. I'll call you tomorrow, okay,” she murmured.

“Don't blame you a bit,” her grandmother said, frowning. “I love you baby.”

“I love you too,” Caroline said, pressing a kiss to her wrinkled cheek.

“You're making a scene,” her mother harshly whispered. “This is so embarrassing!”

“Oh? Is it? I don't care. By the way, thanks for lunch,” Caroline bit out as she walked away from the table. Yeah. It was funny how some things never changed.

“You're a real bitch, Joan,” her grandmother announced bluntly.

Caroline couldn't quite contain her smirk. It didn't last long, though. The drive back to Toronto put a lot of things in perspective.

She thought a lot about those end scenes in the movies, where the heroine walks away and suddenly the building explodes behind her. Still, she keeps on walking without looking back, a satisfied smile on her face. She knows that the bad guys have been thwarted and all is right in the world.

Caroline acknowledged that this was not one of those times. Instead, she was equal parts angry at her mother and feeling guilty about leaving the party early. It was incredibly embarrassing, the way she'd just up and walked out. Tomorrow she would call and apologize to her grandmother again. Her mother, on the other hand, would not be receiving a phone call.

***

Caroline was pulling the macaroni and cheese out of the oven when she heard the knock on her apartment door. That would be Magnus. She'd planned to go over to his place after the party, but by the time she'd gotten home she was exhausted.

Even though she'd done her best to beg off tonight, Magnus had instead talked her into inviting him over. She couldn't really protest without going into the whole mortifying story. And there was no chance of that happening. He'd offered to bring her dinner, but after the miserable day she had, she welcomed the distraction of cooking a meal.

She opened the door, pasting what she hoped was a smile on her face. “Magnus, come in.”

The ready grin slipped from his face as he studied her. “What's wrong?”

Clearly the smile hadn't been as effective as she'd hoped. She waved him off and said, “Nothing. Just a long day.”

“I've seen you after a long day,” he reminded her. “That's not what this is. You can tell me to mind my own bloody business if you want but at least be honest about it.”

His patient stare broke her down. “Fine. You're right. I had a shitty day. My mother manages to make me feel like an awkward teenager even after all this fucking time. I went to that stupid party I told you about. You remember, the one that she planned for my grandmother? The second I walked in the door she started in on me by informing me that my dress made me look fat.” When he opened his mouth, she held up a hand. “It gets better from there. Just wait. Then, in front of my grandmother, told me that I'd never keep a man if I didn't start wearing a girdle. The final straw was when I tried to take a finger sandwich from the tray on our table and she slapped my hand away because 'someone needed to'. I'm sure she would've kept it up but I walked out.”

He stared at her incredulously for a moment, taking in her words and then he finally asked, “Did you slash her tires on the way out?”

“No. The butler was watching me,” she admitted, giving the first traces of an actual smile since Magnus walked through the door.

“There it is,” Magnus murmured, cupping the side of her face. “An actual smile. I'll take it, even if it's a slightly vindictive one.”

She leaned into him and said, “Now I just feel like crap about the whole thing. I walked out of my grandmother's birthday party. It wasn't even the stuff my mother said, so much as the fact she's been saying it my whole life. My job isn't good enough, my friends aren't good enough. She loves to remind me that I'm an overweight spinster at least two or three times per visit in some way.”

“She's the reason behind your piss poor self-image then?”

She didn't even bother with prevarication. “Basically, yeah.”

“I wouldn't feel too bloody bad about leaving then. You had to stand up for yourself at some point.”

Caroline nodded. “I know. I just wish I had picked a different venue. It's not my grandmother's fault. She's probably one of my biggest fans.”

“When you explain what happened, she'll completely understand why,” he reasoned.

“Oh, she was there for most of it, actually. I'm pretty sure she called my mom a bitch as I was leaving.”

“She wasn't lying, either, love,” he noted.  “Your grandmother sounds like a firecracker.”

“She definitely is. You'd like her,” she said. Pausing a moment, she added, “She invited us out for tacos, actually.”

At his vaguely confused look, she explained the entire back-story about the Mexican food. It was a little embarrassing to admit that her parents were so closed minded, but she had no reason to lie at this point.

“Don't worry about it,” he murmured, obviously picking up on her unease. “My parents didn't like the Transfigured much either, turns out. The last hug I ever got from my mother was on the day the testing came back when I was five.”

The closed off look in his eye told her it wasn't up for discussion but it still broke her heart. “We're a sorry bunch, aren't we?” she remarked, hugging him. “I've got macaroni and cheese. Let's go drown our sorrows.”