Charlotte Marries a Vampire
by Cheryl Hammer
A tongue-in-teeth comedy based on 2 Corinthians 6:14
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For Paige
You are precious in His sight and mine.
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Published by CJPI PRESS; Smashwords Edition
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Copyright 2011 Cheryl Hammer.
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Its characters and events are fictional. Any resemblance of actual persons, living or deceased, or events is coincidental.
For more information, visit the site at http://www.charlottemarriesavampire.com
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Chapter One: Sin's Always Looking
Waitress Mickey Fitzsimmons watched the bartender fill her table’s drink order. Even though she was happily married, she had to admit that Stefan’s striking good looks improved the work environment. Tall, blonde and extra handsome, he was efficient and pleasant, too. Almost the perfect package, and that’s where her cynicism and New York street smarts took over. Stefan was too perfect – almost inhuman.
“Tough night?” he asked.
His smooth, baritone voice jolted her psychoanalysis.
“Yeah, our wonder hostess triple seated my section. A new record for her,” Mickey complained as she looked back at her tables with anxious people waiting.
Stefan smiled with a look that would make any woman melt. “That won’t happen when I have my own place.”
“Then let me know when you do and I’ll come work for you.” But she knew otherwise. Her waitress days were a job to pay tuition at Queens College and no matter how charming Stefan Babson was, she didn’t plan on a career in the restaurant business. She smiled and took off hearing him comment something about as soon as he found the means.
Except for Mickey’s section, Victor’s Grill & Pub was relatively calm that evening, filled as usual but not packed. The neighborhood eatery catered to a regular clientele in the established South Park area of Charlotte, North Carolina. Most were professional couples without young children who could afford to frequently dine in the upscale setting rather than cook at home. Only on weekends did it attract a younger, date night crowd. Stefan found it intriguing at times, especially one particular couple whom he often observed.
He guessed they were in their late forties. Sometimes they would talk animatedly as if to brief each other on the day’s events. Other times, they would simply sit and hold hands while waiting quietly for their meal.
“Hey, what’s with you?” a gruff voice interrupted.
Stefan turned to find the owner of the restaurant, Victor Rossi, who was in the same age range as most of his customers. At fifty-two, Victor’s heritage showed its prominence with his coarse, salt and pepper waves of hair, tanned skin and thick body frame. Nonetheless, his Jersey dialect was the first giveaway that he was a transplant amongst a crowd of genteel Southern accents.
Stefan nodded towards the dining area. “Now there’s a couple in love.”
Victor scoffed. “They’re having an affair.”
“You know them?” Stefan assumed Victor did as he kept a close pulse on his prized clientele.
“No, but I know love. You can’t be that happy if you’re always thinking about someone else.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Mickey said as she returned and slammed her empty tray on the rubber bar mat. “Vic’s a hopeless bachelor. Stays out all night, sleeps all day.”
Her eyes narrowed in on Stefan. “Kinda like you. You better watch out or you’ll end up like Victor here.”
“You know them?” Stefan asked Mickey while casually glancing the couple’s way.
Mickey looked over. “Sure, the Johnsons.”
“They married?” He eyed Victor to prove his point.
“Like twenty years or so. This is their date night.” She made sure Victor heard the details. Two Yankees in a Southern setting kept the banter going on who knew more.
“Sounds nice,” Stefan said.
“You should try it,” Mickey said. “You, too, Vic. There’s a market for older folks like you.”
“Aren’t you Miss Cupid,” said Victor.
With an impish smirk, Mickey grabbed her new order and left while Victor focused back on Stefan.
“Get those ideas out of your head. That normal love stuff doesn’t work for people like us.” Victor’s tone had turned serious.
“I know, I know, part of this infernal existence. No true love. No accumulation of worldly assets. It sucks being one of us,” Stefan said.
Victor shrugged and walked off.
As a vampire, Stefan would always be thirty-five years old and a bartender by profession. But the restrictions of his existence didn’t stop him from turning his attention back to the Johnsons. With envy, Stefan watched the husband lovingly brush the hair around the frame of his wife’s face and sighed.
“I haven’t had a romance like that since 1942.”
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Chapter Two: Wondering
One of Charlotte, North Carolina’s charmed neighborhoods of endearment was Dilworth just south of uptown. In other cities, uptown would be downtown but often such colloquialisms were uniquely Southern, as most things in Charlotte tended to be.
Such trivial matters like these were irrelevant to one of its native namesake’s, Charlotte Elizabeth Stephens. She was born in a city that had steadily endured an evolution known to many as Wall Street of the South with giants Bank of America and Wachovia employing its burgeoning population growth. However, the growth was cosmetic because the culture had remained steadfast as if frozen in time from a century ago.
Like the city, twenty-nine-year-old Charlotte held a strong set of firmly implanted beliefs. From small things like sweet tea was the house wine to more pressing matters like women should be married before age thirty, Charlotte’s internal clock was ticking to a beat decades old. Because of these beliefs, she was frustrated that her steady beau, Perry Nelson, didn’t seem to be wound the same way. He should be, Charlotte surmised. After all, Perry was a native, too. A commercial real estate broker and nephew of one of the more prominent realtors in the city, Charlotte couldn’t figure out why Perry wasn’t in a hurry to ask her to marry him. It just wasn’t Southern or the way of Charlotte – city or woman.
Subconsciously, the subject of marriage, or lack of, remained top of mind for the pretty and petite young woman as she approached her shop, Flowers by Charlotte, one early October morning. With boxing gloves dangling over one of her shoulders, she entered to find Tammy, her friend and part-time employee, talking on the phone.
About six years older and a good six inches taller, Tammy had attended the same Myers Park church as Charlotte since youth.
Through the years, Charlotte had trailed behind her participating in GAs, youth choir, mission trips and even as a candle lighter in Tammy’s wedding. But that’s where it had stopped. She had followed every footstep except those of being a bride.
“How was class?” Tammy whispered to Charlotte while covering the phone’s mouthpiece with her hand.
“Good,” Charlotte answered with a few play punches in the air. She had taken up boxing a few months earlier after showing interest in the renegade gym around the corner.
Classic in the old style of Rocky, its se
tting was contrary to her sweet exterior. However, Charlotte wrestled an internal agitation and she thought the vigorous sport would help. So far, it had yielded nothing but sore arms and a great deal of frustration.
After putting her things away, she tied on her work apron and went outside to water the flower canisters that flanked each side of the entrance. She continued the one-sided dialogue about her relationship with Perry until the sharp shrill ringtone garnered her attention. Leaving the water can under the shade of the yellow and white-striped awning, Charlotte walked inside to dig out her cell phone from her cluttered purse.
Perry had sent a text:
SUN NITE AFTR HUNT WNT 2 PULL DUCK FETHRS & WATCH PNTHRS?
Her cheeks flushed with irritation as she turned to find Tammy off the phone staring at her with amusement.
“A love text from your honey?” she asked Charlotte.
“Hardly. Would you call an invitation to pull duck feathers romantic?"
Tammy shrugged her shoulders slightly.
“Perry is so predictable!” Charlotte had to restrain herself from screaming.
“Is that bad?” Tammy asked.
“It is when we’ve dated for seventeen months. I just read a survey that said the average male isn’t ready to propose marriage until dating for more than thirty-eight months.” Or maybe it was thirty-nine. Charlotte couldn’t remember except that it sounded like eternity, entirely too long for her.
Tammy completed the clicking on the computer keyboard. “You’re half way there,” she said.
Charlotte delayed her rebuttal as she felt the cool metal necklace slide against her skin and drop to the floor. Bending down, she picked up the fallen cross on the silver chain given to her by her grandmother, Sara Elizabeth Stephens.
“I’ve got to get a better safety clasp,” Charlotte mumbled. “I’d die if I lost this.”
She opened her handbag and hastily tossed the treasure in a side pocket.
“Tammy,” she pointed to her stomach. “I’m on tick-tock countdown. What if I wait another year and a half only to miss out on my true soul mate? Someone exciting, someone less predictable.”
Or worse, she thought, what if Perry never asked.
In her practical way, Tammy responded, “Sounds like impatience. What’s God say?”
Charlotte had heard it before.
“You sound just like Dad and June. They’re always telling me to pray about it.”
“Good advice,” Tammy said. “Take ‘em up on it and I’ll pray about it, too.”
However, Charlotte deemed it more appropriate to pout.
“Thanks Tammy, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with second guessing something so significant in your life.”
Equally stubborn, Tammy took a stand. “Uh, I would disagree. Something so significant shouldn’t be a guess: first, second or third.”
Perhaps her words were a poor choice thought Charlotte. “Okay, maybe wondering is a better word. I’m wondering.”
At that moment, a familiar voice interrupted the debate.
“Ladies, I’m here to pick up a flower arrangement for my wife.”
Charlotte turned enthusiastically to see her father. “Daddy!” She rushed over and hugged his large frame. “You mean my birthday dinner centerpiece?”
“Ssh, it’s a surprise.” Charles Stephens, put his finger to his lips as if it was a secret. Then, little was secret between Charlotte and her dad. Since Charles had quit traveling in her middle-school years, they had grown close – especially after her mother had abruptly dropped out of their lives.
Charles cast a paternal observation and noticed that Charlotte was troubled. Her usual bounce that caused her long hair to sway was gone. Instead, her body posture was rigid and controlled.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “You can’t fool your Dad.”
“Right, only my boyfriend.”
The front doorbell chimed, which prompted Charlotte to move her dad aside to the nearby refrigerator case while Tammy waited on the incoming customer.
Charles thought about Perry. As far as he could tell, Perry and Charlotte were an ideal match. Perry loved the Lord, and when he was around the two of them, he could tell Perry loved Charlotte.
It bothered him that Charlotte often seemed discontent. At times, she was too intolerant, too impulsive and that was probably one of her few flaws – the lack of maturity when it came to relationships. She wanted perfect with pronto.
“He wants to come over and pull duck feathers this Sunday.”
Charles smiled. “That boy sure likes to hunt.”
“Every weekend!”
“Well, it’s your busy time with work – weddings, funerals, church services. What do you expect?” He tried to reassure her with the realities of her successful business.
“What every girl expects! I want to be wined and dined, surprised and swept off my feet. I want romance and mar–”
He noticed she stopped before she finished the word marriage. “Perry could be the one,” he said.
He watched the intensity on Charlotte’s face. There it was again: the focus of a Queen Bee.
This was something he needed to pray about with June. Dear Lord, he silently pleaded, please temper her occasional flightiness.
* ~ *
Across town, Perry Nelson stood in his well-organized garage searching for the tote-sized red cooler. Tucked underneath his armpit was the newly purchased toy duck that would go inside.
A boyishly handsome type, Perry was one of those men who would look youthful at any age. He was considered by many at church to be a great catch because of his steady nature, however, this desirable trait was often interpreted by the young women as one of his huge faults. Perry moved slow and methodical, and he already knew too slowly for Charlotte. Tonight he would surprise her and show her otherwise.
As his best friend Jake studied the elegant engagement ring in his palm, Perry tore the tags off the small, stuffed animal and tied a pink ribbon around its neck.
“Are you sure about this?” Jake asked while Perry lined the cooler with matching pink gift-wrapping tissue.
“Two hundred percent.” Perry wrestled the thin sheets to lay flat against the bottom of the container.
Jake shook his head. “No, I mean the whole duck thing.”
Perry grinned. He knew he had tested Charlotte more than necessary but part of his internal processing was to gauge her patience when it came to his pastime passion of duck hunting. Her enduring support told him she was the one.
Confident he’d taken the right approach, he assured his friend. “She’s going to love it.”
Jake seemed uncertain. “I don’t know. I love to hunt myself but even I have my limits. A whole season of dressing the kill every weekend, she either loves you or –”
Jake stopped mid-sentence because he could see that his friend wasn’t listening.
Perry was too busy visualizing Charlotte opening the cooler, amused with the symbolic duck icon and overjoyed by the ring tied within the silk ribbon’s bow. “I can’t wait to see her face.”
* ~ *
Chapter Three: Changes
Later that night, Charlotte’s face, cloaked by the darkness, steamed with fury. As Perry drove to her dad’s house for dinner, he dropped the news that he’d left his cooler in her garage with a special duck. What was it with him and ducks she wondered?
Her thoughts turned back to the marriage survey she’d read. More than a thousand men had participated. It had to be true. Perry had no plans to ask her to marry him in the near future, and the thought blinded her with anger as thick as a Carolina covey.
She looked over at him and seethed. He had all the right qualities except that he had turned into a bore with the recent hunting season. And, she couldn’t figure out why he had this goofy grin on his face.
For Charlotte, there was nothing to smile about now. It was her birthday and she was a thirty-year-old spinster with a duck-loving boyfriend. Things had to change.
Inside, the slate blue painted walls and ornate chandelier showcased the elaborate table that June had prepared. Her stepmother had made the birthday dinner particularly festive with china and crystal that complemented the stunning floral centerpiece of sterling roses, hydrangea and lavender sweat peas from her shop.
Charlotte appreciated June’s efforts and had gradually embraced her over the years. It wasn’t that June wasn’t likeable or even loveable – it was just hard for Charlotte to accept that there was another woman in Charles’ life since she had been the only one for so long.
Perry held Charlotte’s chair for her before sitting down while her dad poured wine for the three of them but stayed with sparkling cider for himself.
Despite the light dinner conversation covering every subject from the Carolina Panthers to the church’s new education building, Charlotte had a hard time focusing. Her thoughts were centered on whether Perry was the one, and the more she dwelled on it, the more she was convinced that he wasn’t.
At the end of the meal, June presented the professionally decorated birthday cake. A multi-tier, layered design, its lilac icing and plum piping trim colors coordinated perfectly with the centerpiece.
“Make a wish,” June coaxed with her hushed Carolina accent as she lit the candle.
Charlotte watched her dad give his wife a look of pure admiration, and felt a pang of resentment. His relationship with June seemed so carefree. Sporadically, they’d take off for long weekends like a trip to the Outer Banks while she would be home spending a date night pulling feathers with Perry and no prospects of matrimony in sight.
She tried to push the bitter thoughts aside but as she dutifully blew out the candle, her face flamed and the backs of her eyes stung like lemon juice splashed on an open cut.
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