The Vampire (THE VAMPIRE Book 1) (77 page)

“But Carrie—you
were
the only person in the room.” He was trying to derail where this runaway train was going.

She frowned and gave him a look of disapproval.

“I really don’t expect you to understand. You’re a guy, for one thing. So of course he is not going to have the same emotional effect on you. You just can’t imagine what it is like to be with him and to experience having feelings like that and to be able to relate to him that way.”

Jason had to glance away. He probably shouldn’t be able to relate to that. He would like to think this over some more. But not now. There were more pressing concerns.

Carrie must not ever see nor speak to him again. It was already bad enough as it was. She was not going to want to let go. But she had to. How else was he going to be able to continue to work for Augere? There would already be enough challenges. How was he supposed to handle something like this? Would he ultimately be forced to choose between family and friends, or the vampire? It seemed unthinkable. He would not be able to make such a choice.

They needed to leave the house—now. They both needed distraction from all thoughts of Augere.

The morning was cold and grey, perfect for the New England Aquarium and at least one art museum. A coin toss brought them to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum versus the Boston Fine Arts. They decided to go for brunch after the Gardner and before the aquarium. Both expressed a desire for comfort foods: for more bowls of corn chowder, toasted breads and warm muffins with butter and jam; sausages and eggs. They headed to a restaurant chain that was a favorite of Jason’s, and as they walked in they drew some admiring glances; one stranger was overhead to say, “There’s a nice looking goth couple,” which made the two of them laugh. They enjoyed great food, sated and content to linger for a while, sipping hot Earl Grey and enjoying each other’s company and conversation.

Carrie was enthralled with the aquarium, and Jason was equally glad for the visit. They both found things to buy at the gift shop: a plush Cthulhu like creature for Jason and a plush jellyfish for Carrie. She bought magnets and small toys and trinkets, fun things. Jason drove them through different neighborhoods; to Chinatown and the North End; they stopped at the old cemetery located in downtown. He drove past his alma mater and pointed out how it was a totally urban campus—“not a lot of green spaces, not as nice as some other campuses”—but then felt a little guilty for contriving to dissuade her from choosing Boston as a college choice.

She wanted to return to Faneuil Hall and they did so. Jason had eaten more in the last day than he had in months, but he was enjoying himself, and was enjoying seeing Carrie happy. She wanted to do more shopping.

“You live near the Mall of America, and you want to shop
here
?” They both laughed, and she said she wanted “Boston stuff, you know, things unique to this area.” She bought souvenirs for herself and the rest of the family and Jason bought her a BOSTON logo hoodie. He did want to made her visit, hopefully her only one ever, a happy one.

It was after 10 p.m. by the time they returned home, after having finally enjoyed huge seafood platters at the Barnacle in Marblehead.

When they returned Augere’s car was gone from the garage, to Jason’s relief. He noted Carrie’s look of disappointment that the brownies she had left for Augere were still in the kitchen, untouched. Jason surmised he had seen them the morning she had led him to the kitchen. Of course…she wouldn’t understand why he would have no interest. She made no comment.

They were both exhausted, but stayed up to watch a favorite movie on TV. They managed to be hungry enough for a snack and then did shots of whipped cream out of a can, laughing and enjoying once again a familiar routine from when they were growing up.

They had really reconnected this weekend, after months apart. His recent return home didn’t count; this time he was in good spirits and a better frame of mind if not exactly feeling more relaxed. Carrie finally announced she was heading off to bed.

Once she was out of sight, Jason moved his couch to block the doorway of his quarters. It occurred to him she could escape through the French doors into the patio, but the patio doors that led into the library were usually kept locked, especially this time of year. He yawned as he settled into the plush warmth of the covers on the couch. He was determined to get a good night’s sleep, and not wake up to a stressful morning once again.

He leisurely awoke on Sunday morning to find Carrie standing over him with a bemused expression and her hands on her hips.

“Was this really necessary, Jason?”

Jason sat up and looked around him in feigned surprise. “Wow… Are you okay? Damn! Must have been another earthquake last night!” He craned his neck trying to look down the hall toward his bedroom. “I bet my bed is halfway out in the hall…! That must have been at least a 3.5 on the Richter scale; were you scared? See? This comes from living on a fault line. I’m telling you, Boston can be very dangerous. We were lucky—this time.”

She scrunched her face into a mock frown. He doubted she bought it for a second. They had played the what-if-bizarre-scenarios-game far too often, to amuse each other, in the past. But he was desperate.

It was Sunday and they had no definite plans. Carrie made a big breakfast for them and they lingered over second cups of coffee. He asked where she wanted to go today, what she wanted to do. She asked if they could drive around Boston, maybe return to Faneuil Hall, have another look around. They wandered in downtown Boston afterward, then walked across Boston Commons and the Public Garden to see the holiday lights. They went to Cambridge and hung out for a while.

When they returned home in the early evening, a favorite casserole Carrie had previously put together was put in the oven for dinner. She had prepared two other different ones to leave in Jason’s freezer; something home cooked for him to enjoy in the future. He felt looked after and appreciative of her attention.

Augere’s car was still gone when they entered the garage. Carrie was quieter than usual as they both busied themselves in the kitchen; Jason made a salad and put a bottle of San Pellegrino in the fridge to chill, chatting while Carrie set the table. It was her last evening in Boston. They were discussing whether to go out to a movie after dinner, when she gasped suddenly, looking past him. She rushed over to the counter. The small plate of brownies was gone. She looked at Jason, her face beaming. “Oh! I’m so glad he took them!” It seemed that little gesture had meant everything in the world to her. It made Jason feel a little sad, but for whom exactly he couldn’t say.

He nodded to her.
Yes, he must have; who else?

They considered several movie possibilities, but nothing that was playing held much interest. They decided to stay in and watch Young Frankenstein, a favorite of both of theirs.

They sat in the living room as the casserole baked, and the DVD of the movie started playing while Carrie got out her camera. She began looking at some of the photos she had taken. She mentioned wanting to take more photos of the house.

“What has been your favorite part of the weekend?” Jason asked.
Damn,
he thought as soon as he had uttered the words. He hadn’t meant to have her focus on all the reasons she might have for wanting to come right back here, including Augere. No matter what he said or how he phrased it, he fell into a trap.

“Well—just, everything!” She laughed. “Boston itself, and Salem of course! That aquarium was just the best. Look at this photo—” She held up her camera for him to see and he nodded his approval. She showed him another photo, one a stranger had taken of the two of them together.
It could be like this all the time,
he thought. He could have her company, they could spend time together. If it wasn’t for…but no; it was nobody’s fault. It just couldn’t be.

She was scanning through more photos. “I have
got
to come back here for Halloween!” She browsed some more and then said, “but this is my favorite photo—the best one ever.”

She held up a portrait shot of Augere. Jason was stunned. How had she gotten him to agree to it? Jason had not been able to get a single photo of him in all their time in Europe, nor anywhere else. He had so recently lamented not having one single of photo of Augere and that loss had been grief to him. He had feared any conjured image of Augere would fade from memory in time and it would be as if he had never existed. And now Carrie had accomplished something he hadn’t been able to. He casually asked how she had managed it.

“I know, right? He is so not into—how did he phrase it—? ‘Having his likeness captured.’”

“Then, how?”

She shrugged. “I blinded him with science. It’s kind of hard to believe I know, but he seems to know next to nothing about digital cameras and how they work or about instant photos either. Even I know about polaroids; well, mostly because of Andy Warhol’s art. But anyway, I told him I could take his picture instantly and show it to him. He said he preferred not. Then he said he didn’t think it was possible to do it…I mean, he has a driver’s license, a passport, right? How could he not really know about digital photos? That didn’t make sense to me.” She had a worrisome questioning look on her face for several moments. “I told him my camera is temperamental though, and I have to click it several times to take one photo because I have dropped it a few times, and the little mechanism sticks. Which is partly true. So I clicked it a few times, taking several photos, but I showed him only one. He looked at it for a while…then I set the timer and took one of us together and he seemed kind of amazed. So I asked him if I could keep the photos and he said ‘No.’ So I said okay, I did not want him to be upset and so I told him I would erase them and I let him watch as I deleted the photos. All but three of them, protected and saved of course.”

“You lied to him?”

“You can’t tell him, Jason!” she whined. “I just had to have his photo! I feel bad about doing it, about being so sneaky, because he is so sweetly naïve, and I hated taking advantage of that…but there’s no harm; he won’t even know…”

Jason wasn’t so sure about that. Augere knew plenty of things it seemed he shouldn’t be able to know. This presented a new cause for concern about Carrie’s safety. Now he was starting to feel ill. It had been right there in the confidentiality agreement—no photos.

“Can I see those photos again?” Carrie refused to hand over the camera; she would only allow him to view the photos if she still held it. He lingered over the images. It didn’t seem quite real to him that only a short time ago he had experienced such mental anguish at the thought he had not one photo of Augere; he would have given almost anything to have a single image to help him to remember the experience of him. It was a deeply emotional suffering that managed to embarrass him still.

Carrie had almost effortlessly accomplished what he could not. Even with his camera always handy in Europe, he still had not been quick enough or clever enough, it seemed, to capture a single photo. The absence of that proof of Augere’s existence had haunted him.

He asked if he could view more of the photos she had taken, and especially those of her and himself together. Then he asked if she might make a CD of all of her photos, so he might have them too. She readily agreed to that.

“I was really hoping to see him again…” She sighed.

“Carrie, I seriously hope you are not getting hung up on my boss.”

“Why not?” she asked, looking up at him quickly.

“First, because he IS my boss and that would be awkward; it would create a conflict for—all of us. And seriously, who gets hung up on someone they just met—and has only seen for such a short time?”

She gave him a look he couldn’t interpret. “I believe that is just how it happens: you are just going along in life not really looking for anything or anyone in particular. Then you meet someone who makes you realize: I would never have dreamt there could even be someone like this. One moment, there was nothing. And the next moment—everything.”

Jason swallowed hard. This was already beginning to sound serious. “The thought of this makes me very uncomfortable. And even if you don’t want to take my feelings, and my job, into consideration—it still is just not a good idea.”

“But why? I will probably be visiting often, don’t you think? So wouldn’t it be best if we got along well?”

“It is one thing to be friendly with someone. It just would not be in anyone’s best interest if you were to be overly familiar with my boss. Don’t misunderstand: you mean the world to me and you know that. I love seeing you happy and enjoy spending time with you. Maybe this summer I could rent a cottage in Cape Cod; you could come there for a week, and we could hang out—”

“
Summer?
” She looked stricken. “I was thinking February recess. And even that seems a long way off. I can’t wait until summer. And I don’t want to stay in Cape Cod.”

“Well, I could always come home to Minnesota to visit, maybe in February. I might be able to stay for a week. That would be okay, right?”

Her facial expression suggested otherwise.

“Oh. So it’s not me you want to see. And spend time with. And it is not Boston, either, you are so eager to rush back here for. Is that it?”

She bit at her lower lip, gazing once again at one of her photos. It was not hard to guess which one. Now she looked upset.

“Did he say or do anything to give you any reason to think he wanted you to come right back here, to see him?”

“I felt a connection.” She spoke quietly, without taking her eyes off the photo.

“So—that would be a no, then.”

She made no reply.

“Carrie, you can’t just build up something in your mind like this. Besides being my boss, he is just not a good…choice…”

She glanced up at him, her face composed, but her jaw set and determined.

“For one thing, he’s too old for you.” It was a weak volley, he knew, but it was all he had.

“He is seven years older than me.”

“That’s right. And you are still in high school, and you have college ahead of you and—”