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Avelyn watched her wearily, unsure what to make of Jocelyn’s unusual attitude. Was it her imagination, or was she actually trying to be nice? “Yeah… I’m getting used to it. I think I’m starting to get a handle on my increased senses, power and speed.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“As for the cravings, they haven’t kicked in yet. And I’m not feeling very hungry right now.”
“Still, you should eat…” Avelyn’s unexpected laugh interrupted her. “What’s so funny?”
“You telling me to eat, that’s funny.” She covered her mouth with a napkin, trying to muffle her chuckles. “A few days ago, you were lecturing me on how I’m not the right size.”
Jocelyn’s cheeks turned red. Christine smiled discreetly, but Max tensed in his chair, the comment having snapped him out of his daydream.
“Did you really say that to her?”
“Oh, come on,” said Jocelyn. “What is this? Kindergarten?”
“You should be nicer to her, sister. She’s my wife.”
The only times he called her “sister” were when he was awfully angry. Jocelyn huffed and raised her brow. “What’s with you?”
“Nothing.” He patted his lips with the napkin, set it next to the almost full plate, and stood up. “I’m going back to my office. I have to finish some stuff.”
“Max,” whined Avelyn. “I thought you were done for today. No work after dinner, remember?”
He turned back and leaned in for a quick kiss. “I know, baby. It won’t take long, I promise. See you upstairs.”
She watched him go and, for a second, she wanted to follow him. Christine sensed her impulse and put her bony hand on her arm.
“Let him go for now,” she said.
Avelyn sent Christine a confused look, but let herself fall back into her chair. She picked up her fork and stabbed a huge piece of potato. Jocelyn watched the scene in silence and took a sip of her white wine. There was something strange going on, and she had no idea what. Sure, they were all stressed and on the edge, but Max hadn’t been quite himself today. He had locked himself in the office from early morning until a little before dinner, and now he was there again. She’d have to catch him later and make him talk.
“Any idea who got his panties in a twist?” she asked Avelyn.
“I don’t know. Me? Sabine? There are so many possible answers.”
“God, stop mentioning her name.”
“Why?”
“You should hate her guts right about now.”
“I could never hate her. And Max told me you two were rather close, so why the change?”
“What kind of question is that?” A look of disbelief crossed Jocelyn’s sharp features. “Anyway, that was a long time ago. The Sabine you’ve met is not the Sabine I used to know.”
Christine rose from her chair and motioned for a maid to take her empty plate and Max’s full one. “Would you like some tea, ladies?”
“No, thanks,” jumped Avelyn. “No more tea.”
Jocelyn smiled and raised her glass. “I’m okay with wine.”
“Well, then, this old woman is going for a stroll and then up to bed. I bid you good night.”
“Night!” said Jocelyn.
Avelyn nodded her head and kept silent until she was sure Christine had reached the front door. “No tea from Christine. Ever again. The only tea I’ll drink from now on will be in cafés.”
Jocelyn laughed wholeheartedly and reached over the table to pour Avelyn some wine. “I agree. Here, I guess you can have just a bit.”
