Chasing Daybreak (Dark of Night Book 1) (9 page)

“Sure thing, Ma,” she called back. Turning to me, she confided in hushed tones, “Mom hasn’t shut up for five seconds, and I think Phoebe is about to go postal with the salad chopper.”

I winked. “Don’t worry, as soon as she sees me, she’ll forget all about you guys and go into her ‘my poor spinster daughter’ number.”

Sarah nodded, a bright smile spreading across her face. “Thanks, Isabel. I’ve missed you, ya know.”

“Yeah. Same here, Shorty.” I smiled back though Sarah had been taller than I had since eighth grade. “Now go get those forks before Mom calls in the National Guard.”

My mother’s kitchen was exactly how it’d been since I was a toddler. The stark white cabinets locked it into a 1980-esque theme, which my mother had only exaggerated by choosing to decorate with gaudy, fake greenery. The whole room was littered with grape vines, pictures of grape vines, and towels, rags, and oven mitts with you guessed it—grape vines on them. Mom liked themes. And wine.

Mostly wine.

When I pushed open the door, she was bending over the stove, commenting on the bread sticks as Phoebe stood over the sink slicing carrots with more force than was completely necessary. When she saw me, Phoebe smirked.

“Hey Isabel. Glad you could make it.” She tossed the abused carrots into a big salad bowl.

Mom looked over her shoulder at me before sliding the pan of bread out of the oven and onto the top of the stove. “Only twenty minutes late,” she scolded in her typical passive-aggressive tone.

I shrugged, picking a piece of cucumber out of the salad and popping it into my mouth. Like lightning, Mom reached over and slapped my hand with a wooden spoon.

“Ow,” I mumbled around the food in my mouth.

“You weren’t raised by wolves. Wait ‘til dinner.” Then she turned on Phoebe, who was trying not to laugh. “And you, why don’t you make the bruschetta? Actually, wait.” She paused, looking over Phoebe like she was a cut of lamb at the supermarket and Mom was trying to judge her freshness. “Better yet, why don’t you go put on some makeup? Blush, I think. You look a bit pale. And change your shirt. Pink really isn’t your color, dear. Isabel, you can make the bruschetta, if you remember how.”

I silently counted to five. “Yes, Mother, I remember how.”

“Good.” Handing me the basket of tomatoes, she pointed toward the cutting block.

As soon as Phoebe was out of the line of fire, I started talking. “So, I did that thing you wanted. Duke is squeaky clean. No red flags.”

“Good. Thank you for checking for me. It’s such a dangerous world we live in nowadays. I feel so… vulnerable without your father here to keep an eye on you girls.”

I stopped chopping. “Yeah. I miss Dad, too.”

“Well, you girls have always been two handfuls, all of you. I mean, look at Phoebe. Twenty years old and still hasn’t had one stable relationship. I was beginning to worry she’d end up…” Mom trailed off.

It wasn’t hard to fill in the blank.

“Like me?”

“I was going to say
alone
, but since you brought it up, yes. I worry about you, Isabel. You can’t keep clinging to Shane. That ship has sailed. You need to move on, meet new people. Have you considered online dating? Suzanne Wheeler’s daughter found a very nice young man that way.”

“Really? He didn’t, like, want to wear her skin as a suit or anything?”

Mom stopped what she was doing, put her hands on her hips, and glared at me. “It wouldn’t kill you to try to meet someone.”

“It might, in fact,” I mutter, calling to mind some news story about a man taking a lady he’d met online to Mexico and telling the police she’s been eaten by alligators or something. “Besides, I work a lot. I have to, remember? Sarah’s college isn’t going to pay for itself.”

That sounded harsher than I’d intended. Mom didn’t say anything for a minute, which told me I’d scraped a nerve. I opened my mouth to apologize, but she cut me off.

“You work a lot. Yes, I’m aware of that. And I appreciate you doing it. I’m not heartless. I know you gave up quite a bit to come home and take over the business. But you don’t have to work every minute. Surely, you’ve met some suitable prospects.”

Prospects. Like men were gold nuggets to be panned out of the river.

“I meet plenty of men.” I shrugged. “Most are criminals or adulterers, but I suppose I could bring one of them home.”

She slapped me with the spoon again, this time across the shoulder. “Don’t give me lip, girl,” she ordered, expression stern. “This is not a joke. You don’t want to spend your life alone.”

I rolled my eyes and resumed chopping, garlic this time. “Ma, I’m far from an old maid.”

At that minute, Phoebe walked into the kitchen wearing a clingy, lightweight sweater that accentuated her, ah, assets nicely. I whistled. Mom frowned and motioned to the stairs with her spoon.

“Phoebe! Go find something else to wear. That’s barely decent and not appropriate for a family dinner.” Phoebe rolled her eyes but turned to obey. Before she could step foot out of the door, Mom called out to her. “Remember, dear, no man is gonna buy the cow if he can get the milk for free!”

“Ma!” I chastised.

She looked at me flatly. “What?”

I blinked. “Did you just call Phoebe a cow?”

***

The doorbell rang at exactly seven. Phoebe had changed into a Mom-approved yellow blouse and tan slacks. Silently, we took up our usual positions in the hallway. Phoebe at the door, Sarah in front of me, and Mom at my back. It was the Stone family gauntlet. The only thing missing was Dad at the end.

Phoebe greeted Duke with a quick peck on the cheek and led him in to be introduced to the firing squad, AKA Mom.

Duke was easily a half a foot taller than all of us, except for Sarah. Which meant he wasn’t super tall for a man. He was muscular in the way that was more physical labor and less time in the gym. When we sat down for dinner, he pulled out Phoebe’s chair, earning him a sly smile from Mother. But it wasn’t long before the polite banter wore off and Mom went into full-blown inquisition mode.

“So, Duke, do you plan to continue your job as a firefighter after you get married?”

Sarah paled. Phoebe coughed and kicked me under the table. I grunted as she glared at me. Hey, what was I supposed to do about it?

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit dangerous?”

“No more so than most careers, ma’am,” he answered, far more politely than I would have.

“That’s true,” I interjected. “Just yesterday, I was in this dark basement with these two vampires and—”

Mom cut me off with, “That’s nice, dear,” before turning back to her prey. “And what about your family, Duke?

He looked to Phoebe, who turned to me. I shrugged.

“What about them?” He swallowed a bite of bread.

“Well, are they all well? What I mean is—are there any unfortunate genetic conditions in your family medical history?”

At that, I laughed so hard that red wine shot out my nose. Luckily, I had my napkin over my face. This was actually a standard Mom question. For her, boyfriends were nothing more or less than potential breeding stock.

I remembered the first time she’d met Shane and asked him the same thing. He’d responded that the only unfortunate genetic conditions were his Uncle Peter, who was a sword swallower in the traveling circus and his Aunt Bernie, the bearded lady. Mom’s eye had twitched, but Dad had laughed his ass off and promptly told Mom to leave the boy alone.

Duke wasn’t going to get so lucky. He sort of sat there with his mouth open, a bite of food falling off his raised fork.

“Mom, that’s enough.” I turned to Duke. “You’ll have to excuse her. Her brain-to-mouth filter is in the shop.”

Mom folded her arms across her chest. “Don’t apologize for me. It’s a legitimate question. Especially these days.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Phoebe finally piped up.

“I’m just being cautious.”

“Ma, enough,” I said sternly.

She shot me a look that clearly said, “We’ll talk about this later,” but she didn’t push the subject.

Bless her heart, Sarah decided to break the tension. “So, what made you decide to become a firefighter?” she asked pleasantly.

“Well…” Duke smiled, and a dimple appeared to the left of his mouth. “I was living in New York, and I’d just started law school. One night, some of my friends and I went to this club inside this old warehouse. Somehow, a fire broke out. I got out all right, but one of my friends was trapped inside. The firemen got there and got everybody out, but it was too late for my buddy. That’s when I decided to change paths. I wanted to do something important, something that would really help people.”

By the end of his tale, Mom was looking at Duke like he’d personally hung the moon. With a beaming smile, she offered him another slice of bread.

I rolled my eyes. Before I could think of something to say, my phone rang.

“Is that the theme song from
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
?” Sarah asked seriously.

I nodded. “Yeah. You know how it is. If I can’t laugh about my ex-fiancé being turned into a bloodsucker, then who can?”

I shot my mother an apologetic look and flipped open the phone, sliding my chair back from the table.

“Hey. This is your escape call.”

I could tell from the tone of Shane’s voice that something was wrong.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, still in earshot of Mom, who was now glaring at me.

“I’m just… tired,” he said as if trying to decide if that were the right word.

I raised my voice just an octave and continued my “conversation.”

“Are you sure this can’t wait ‘til tomorrow?” I pulled the phone away from my head and mouthed,
I’m Sorry
, to my mother. “Yeah, I’ll be there in ten…” I trailed off, surprised by a knock at the door.

“If that’s you, Shane, I’m gonna…” I whispered sharply, making my way to the front of the house, holding the phone at my side as I pulled the door open.

My sister Heather stepped inside. She wore a flowing, blue sundress and matching headscarf. She was layered with so much jewelry and bangles she looked like a gypsy.

“Hey, sis! Did ya miss me?”

I put the phone back to my head. “Um, Shane, I’m gonna have to call you back.”

***

“Who was at the door?” Mom asked as I slipped back into the dining room.

“A bunch of Girl Scouts with torches and pitchforks,” I joked half-heartedly. “Said something about you owing them money.”

From behind me, Heather popped out and yelled, “Surprise!”

Mom practically launched from her chair and rushed to hug her in a vice grip. “Heather, oh my heavens! I’m so glad you’re home.”

“It’s good to see you too, Mom.” She smiled, pulled away, and asked with a light laugh, “Do you have room for one more at the table?”

Sarah stood up and gave our youngest sister a hug. “Where have you been, brat?”

“Oh, you know.” Heather waved her hand. “Here and there. Traveling, learning, studying the universe.”

“Like, physics?” I asked. “Or getting high in an observatory?”

“You can take Isabel’s place,” Mom interjected as she filled a plate of food. “She was just leaving.”

“Forget it.” I sat back down. “This meal just got interesting.”

“What about Shane?” Phoebe laughed.

I blew a raspberry at her.

“Not at the table,” Mom snapped.

Heather pulled out the empty chair at the end of the table and sat down.

“You look like Esmeralda from the
Hunchback of Notre Dame,
” Sarah joked.

Sarah was right. Heather’s curly hair was long and disheveled, held at bay only by a scrap of blue cloth. Every finger on her hand had a ring on it, and she’d ditched her eyebrow stud for a Bindi jewel in the middle of her forehead.

“I’ve been studying with some monks in Bali. It’s so amazing over there. You wouldn’t believe it.” She smiled as Mom set a full plate in front of her. Heather looked at it, smiled awkwardly, and pushed it away. “Sorry. I should have mentioned that I no longer eat the flesh of other creatures. Bad karma.”

Mom’s eye twitched. I tried really hard not to laugh. Sarah just stared at her.

“So, what brings you back to this end of the planet?” Phoebe asked.

“Well,” Heather leaned forward, “I was in this meditative trance and… I had a vision.”

I snickered, Sarah snorted, and Phoebe looked at her like she was nuts. Then, in slow-motion unison, we turned to Mom, whose smile was cracking around the edges.

Phoebe patted Duke’s hand. “Maybe we should get going.”

As if realizing for the first time that Duke was still in the room, Mom motioned to him. “Pardon my manners. Duke, this is my youngest daughter, Heather. Heather, this is Duke, Phoebe’s friend.”

Heather stood and grasped his hand across the table, not just shaking it, but covering it with her other hand as well. She smiled. “Oh, yes. I saw you in my vision. It’s nice to meet you in person.”