Page 142 of Never Invite a Vampire to Dinner

Well. One of us does. The other holds a piece for company.

And a nine-foot oak stands in the wet with its roots in Black Harbor ground, beside a dying beech planted by a man long dead, watched over by another man who finally means to see this one get old.

I don’t know whether I’ll be here when the oak is respectable.

Neither does Julian.

But for once, neither of us does the sum.

EPILOGUE

Exactly one month after Julian plants the oak, I come home and find him talking to my mail slot.

“—which I am aware is unnecessary,” he is saying, “and I would ask you not to make anything of it.”

“Julian.”

He straightens. “You’re early.”

“Were you talking to my door?”

“No.”

“Julian.”

“I was talking to your house,” says Julian Volkov, “which is a different statement.”

He hands me an envelope and leaves. He actually leaves. He walks down my path and gets in the car and drives up the hill. I stand on my front steps holding a cream envelope with my name on it in brown ink and laugh, because I did exactly this to him. I stood at the top of Point Road with an invitation in my hand and talked to a mail slot because I wanted a man I’d never met to know there was a place for him at my table.

And now, apparently, Julian has an answer.

The card is cream and heavy and engraved, which costs money, which he knows, which is why he does it.

Mr. Julian Volkov requests the pleasure of the company of Miss Penelope Harrington at dinner at Blackthorn House on Saturday evening at seven o’clock.

Underneath, in his handwriting:

It is not a joke and I would ask you not to bring anything.

I call him.

“You sent me a card. An engraved card.”

“I did.”

“You were at my house. You could have knocked.”

“I could have.”

“You could have handed it to me like a normal person.”

“I did hand it to you.”

“After talking to my mail slot.”

“My relationship with your mail slot is private.”

I sit down on the arm of the sofa because apparently we’re going to do this. “Julian, I was at Blackthorn yesterday. I ate cheese standing over your sink. My raincoat is on the hook in your back hall. I have a drawer.”