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“John!” Mama cried.
“That’s all I’m saying!” Daddy said, throwing up his arms.
“Oh, Wilbur was married once, when he was still living. See, he actually kicked the bucket in 1993. But this bachelor ghoul didn’t let that keep him down.”
Mama tsked. “Now, Jane, I know you’re upset, but that’s a very unkind thing to say.”
“No, Jane, there’s no reason to be nasty,” Jenny said absently. She’d paled and was sitting at the kitchen table, running her fingers over the smoothed old wood. She looked as if she was going to blow some very un-Martha-like chunks on my hand-hooked rag rug.
“I mean, he’s an actual ghoul. He’s a half-turned vampire. He’s the Splenda of vampires. I don’t think he would hurt you just because of his ghoulness. I’m only saying something because of his history. I’m afraid that if you marry him, something’s going to happen to you. I just don’t want anything to happen to you,” I said, realizing that was true as the words left my mouth.
“Really?”
“We don’t always get along, Grandma, but I don’t wish you actual harm.”
Grandma sniffed. “Oh, Janie.”
The degree of emotional openness triggered some sort of channel into Grandma Ruthie’s psyche. I had brief flashes from her thoughts, like old hand-tinted photos. She was remembering me as a little girl, in a starched pink linen dress, ready to go to church. Handing her a card I’d made for her birthday. And then the images turned to the time I dropped wedding ring number three down her garbage disposal. The disastrous Teeny Tea when I tripped and spilled the contents of my teacup down the front of Mrs. Neel’s Sunday dress. All of the times I embarrassed her. All of the times I disappointed.
It was no wonder I’d let something like this happen to me, she was thinking. It was just the capstone to a life dedicated to embarrassing my family. If my mother had listened to her, Grandma Ruthie thought, and sent me to that reform school in New Mexico, I would have married some long-distance truck driver by now and disappeared.
“Well, everyone has problems, Jane,” Grandma said, giving Wilbur a long appraising look.
“But—but—ghoul!” I sputtered.
Wilbur snorted. “Oh, and you’re all so noble. Vampires walking around all more powerful than thou. As if you don’t have all the same weaknesses as us halfsies. Well, I got news for you, missy. Back in my day, vampires knew their place in the world, underground. I think it’s time I dished out some tough love.”
“Are you serious?” I asked.
Wilbur cocked his fist like an Atlantic City pier boxer. “Time to put your money where you big, fanged mouth is, Jane.”
“I’m not going to hit you,” I told him. “Besides, don’t you have any old-fashioned rules about not hitting girls?”
Wilbur circled me, throwing practice swings. “The way I figure it, you stopped being a girl a while ago.”
“So did Grandma.” I threw my hands toward my grandmother. “Besides, you can’t fight me, old man. You don’t have vampire strength.”
“No, but I do have this,” he said, pulling the handle off his cane and revealing a hidden stake.
“Wilbur!” Grandma Ruthie cried. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”
“Oh, come on, who hides a stake in their cane? What’s next? Are you going to make nunchakus out of your dentures?” I yelled.
“Wilbur, don’t you dare!” Grandma cried.
Wilbur flew at me, a surprisingly spry ball of geriatric fury. I managed to grab the hand with the stake and turn so I wouldn’t land on top of him as we fell to the floor. Both for the safety of his hip and my own mental well-being.
Unfortunately, Wilbur took advantage of this and rolled over me, his rank feta breath making my eyes water. I watched as yellowed, crooked fangs extended from Wilbur’s canines, a long string of drool stretching between his jaws. I pressed my head back against the tiled floor to try to put as much distance between our faces as possible. Faintly, I heard my dad yelling, my mother crying, and the dull thud of my sister passing out and sliding to the floor.
“This is my family now, Jane,” Wilbur hissed, his wiry peppercorn eyebrows furrowing as he tried to force the stake from my hand. “And in my family, we don’t tolerate sassy mouths.”
“Get off of me, you crazy … old … man!” I grunted. It took all of the strength in my legs to kick up and launch him into the refrigerator. Wilbur landed in a heap, his neck making a sickening crunch as his head skidded across the tile.
“Wilbur!” Grandma screamed. “Jane! What did you do?”
I hauled myself to my feet, cracking my own vertebrae back into place as my family stared in horror at Wilbur’s lifeless body. Their silent shock was palpable. Mama was sobbing quietly as she frantically tried to revive an unconscious Jenny. Daddy moved toward Wilbur, then stumbled back on his rear when Wilbur’s eyes sprang open.
“That was entirely unnecessary, young lady,” Wilbur snarled, rolling to his knees and cracking his neck as the bones healed. Mama cried out and wobbled against the table legs. Wilbur pushed to his feet and sneered at me. “You have no respect for your elders.”
