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All smiles, Cheryl went out to meet her, our conversation forgotten. “Hi, Mom! We’re in here!”
Jeffy was on his feet, leaning on the rail of the playpen, talking at me, but I couldn’t understand a word he was saying. I regarded him a moment and said, “She’s still crazy after all these years, isn’t she?”
Nicky had stopped Mom—Grandma—in the living room, and the two of them were gushing at each other about toys when Cheryl and I arrived. Now the whole house was filled with hugs and greetings. It was all very girly and domestic. Mom seemed to have recovered from the surgery. And why wouldn’t she? Perfectly routine, everyone kept saying. As if the words “perfect” and “surgery” belonged in the same sentence. She was sore, though she tried to hide it. She managed to hug us without using her right arm. If she was nervous about waiting for the results, she hid that as well.
Cheryl had sandwiches waiting in the kitchen, and we settled down to eat. Nicky peeled the crusts off hers. Mom helped her.
The whole time, Mom talked about nothing in particular, filling the silence so the unspoken worry couldn’t be mentioned. Cheryl kept glancing at me, her expression prompting me, like she wanted me to say something. Wanted me to ask Mom if she needed help. But I wasn’t going to bring up anything. She was the oldest, that was her job. I didn’t care if I was the self-help guru in the family.
When she got the test results, Mom wouldn’t even have to tell us. I didn’t know why Cheryl was so worried about helping her—the more I thought about it, the more I thought Mom wouldn’t want our help. She’d get through as much of this as she could all by herself.
That was what I’d have done. At least, I’d have tried.
For this afternoon, at least, I pretended that nothing was wrong and enjoyed the day with my mom and sister. The last time we’d done a girls’ day like this, Nicky had been a squirming baby.
I was the one who broke up the party, since I had to get home and get ready for this evening. I said good-bye to the kids—Nicky seemed to remember me from the hospital—and hugged Cheryl while trying to transmit don’t worry vibes. I couldn’t tell if it worked. Then Mom and I hugged, careful of her right side.
“You’ll let me know if you need anything, right? If there’s anything I can do to help?”
She pulled back and gave me a wry look. “You never let me help you, why should I be any different?”
Called that one, didn’t I? “Because . . . I don’t know. I just wanted you to know you could call me.”
“I know. Thank you, dear.” Smiling, she kissed my cheek, and that was that.
chapter 5
The Brown Palace Hotel was a downtown icon. Built during the gold rush days when Denver was filled with nouveau riche who wanted a taste of high society, it was a landmark and a status symbol. Presidents stayed here. Really posh. I’d have expected nothing less from Mercedes.
The clerk at the front desk directed me to Mercedes’s suite. I dragged Ben to the elevator. He’d been waiting in the lobby, hands shoved in his trouser pockets, gazing around at the artwork, fireplaces, stained glass, and foliage. He wore a jacket but no tie. Edging more toward scruff than polish, but he still looked great. For my part, I wore a skirt, dress shirt, and heels. Felt pretty good, even though it wouldn’t measure up to whatever Mercedes was wearing.
“You’re sure about this?” he said as we went down the hallway. He’d been muttering about walking into the spider’s parlor.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t trust vampires.”
“And how many vampires do you actually know? That you didn’t stake?”
“I haven’t staked that many vampires.”
I stopped and stared at him. I’d been joking. I’d known he’d sometimes helped Cormac on vampire hunting jobs, before Cormac went to jail. But we’d never talked about it. “How many have you staked?”
After a pause, he said, “Two. That’s it.”
“That’s enough, don’t you think?”
“And I helped with four of Cormac’s.”
“Exactly how many has Cormac staked?”
He just smiled.
Those guys drove me crazy. I huffed and stalked on ahead. He’d caught up by the time I knocked on the door to the suite.
From within, Mercedes called, “It’s unlocked, come in!”
I opened the door and stepped into a spacious sitting room, furnished with big, velvety armchairs and chaises, grouped around a fireplace and mahogany coffee table. Rich carpets and crystal lamps gave the place a warm, opulent atmosphere.
