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I bring a large pot of water to a simmer and drop the dumplings into it in small batches.
“When they float, you remove them from the water,” I explain. “Then, each one gets fried in some butter on each side until it’s nice and toasty brown.”
The kitchen smells even more incredible as we oil and fry each little pocket of cheesy mashed potatoes. When they’re all done, they get topped with some of the caramelized onions and sour cream.
“And it’s as simple as that!” I say, putting on my best celebrity chef voice.
“Simple! It only took three hours,” Marcel says with a laugh.
“Well worth it,” Emile replies. He takes one of the pierogies and eats it in two bites. “Well, you already know what I’m going to say.”
“That it would taste better with blood?” I ask.
Emile nods but smiles wide. “Still, it tastes amazing as is. You really are a fantastic cook.” I blush, avoiding Marcel’s gaze, and invite them to dig in.
The rest of the evening goes by in a flash. There’s more than enough wine and potatoes to go around, and the conversation flows effortlessly. I have a fantastic time. I’m genuinely sad when it’s time to leave, but I do so. If Todd calls the house while I’m gone, he’ll have an angry little fit about it. I’ll need to check my messages.
Still, I don’t rush home that quickly. I take my time, enjoying the scenery of the town right after sunset. More vampire residents come out around now. Not all of them can invest in the ridiculously high SPF sunscreen like Emile and Marcel can. It’s a nice sight, almost like the town has two different lives. Not unlike myself. If I had the choice, I might like to stay here. It’s peaceful and beautiful, plus, Emile is here.
Emile. My mouth suddenly goes sour. What if all of this ended, wrapped up neatly in a bow? What if I was able to come clean and tell him who I really am? Would he understand? Take me back? Or would it still count as a betrayal? I consider what it would mean to be Clarissa for the rest of my life. Could I really pull that off?
I sigh. No, I don’t think I could live that lie forever. Maybe it would be best if I left this cozy little town once my time in witness protection comes to an end. Let everyone here think they once knew a girl named Clarissa who just couldn’t be tied down to one place.
Let Emile think I was just the one who got away.
As I walk up to my home, I spot a familiar car in the driveway. I lower my eyebrows, despair turning to frustration. Todd came over while I was gone. Great. Now I’m going to get an earful about how irresponsible and stupid I am.
I walk inside and, sure enough, Todd is sitting at my dining room table with his arms crossed. His aviator sunglasses rest on the table, his face set in a deep frown.
“Again? Really?” Todd asks. “At this point, I’ll be more shocked if I swing by and you’re actually here. And alive.”
I slam the door behind me and set down my shoulder bag. “I’m starting to think you don’t have a job outside of harassing me.”
“My job is to protect you.” Todd stands up and steps towards me. “Maybe you don’t care about your own life, but the Department of Justice does. We need you alive to testi–!”
“To testify, yeah, I know, Just stay in my little bubble and never go out or meet people or do anything forever so I can testify in court for you! Because that’s all I am. Not a person who needs to be living a real life, just a means to put a few guys behind bars.” I put my hands on my hips and bite the inside of my cheek. I didn’t mean to say all that.
Todd squints his eyes. “I don’t appreciate your tone,” he says slowly.
“Well, I don’t appreciate... this! All of this! Alright, I upended my entire life and moved to the middle of nowhere. I’m living in a house that barely passes a basic standard of livability. And then you randomly show up, invade my personal space, and accuse me of not doing enough to protect myself. Well, I am, alright! I’ve sacrificed so much you don’t even know!”
Emile’s face flashes in my mind. The pain of rejection grips my heart all over again and makes me feel like a lying, terrible monster.
Todd takes a short step backwards and looks me up and down. “You’ve been drinking.”
“That’s not the point,” I interject. “I had a nice evening with two neighbors I trust. That’s it. They think my name is Clarissa and have no idea I’m a huge liar who didn’t even realize she was working for the mafia! All they know is I make fantastic pierogies and I’m emotionally unavailable because of reasons I’m not allowed to discuss. Alright? Is that alright with you?”
Maybe the wine is at fault here, but I’m so tired. I’m exhausted from making compromises and putting my happiness on hold so I can do Todd’s job for him. It was bound to get out eventually, at this rate.
Todd quietly walks back to the kitchen table and grabs his sunglasses, despite it being dark outside. I flinch, thinking of how easy it would’ve been for someone to sneak around in the shadows and spring an attack on me.
Maybe I am the idiot here.
“The next time I stop by, you’d better be home,” Todd says.
“We’ll see,” I reply, too worked up to concede anything to him now.
“I guess we will.” He walks past me to the door but pauses with his hand on the knob. “You said you made pierogies tonight? Can you give me the recipe by any chance?”
