Charlotte Marries a Vampire

by Cheryl Hammer

  However, she erased any concerns that she may have had about how her dad or Perry felt as Stefan artfully navigated the conversation to cover light topics. Charlotte was relieved as the subject of her family or her beliefs never surfaced.

  The trip was as romantic as Charlotte could have imagined. As she and Stefan soaked in the Charleston scenery, she was overwhelmed with emotion. This is what she wanted – an understanding, caring, sensitive man.

  Stefan was a man who’d rather drive three hours for a better tasting brew in a unique setting than thirty minutes to someplace mediocre that appealed to the masses.

  Likewise, Stefan felt something special with Charlotte. She was vulnerable, trustworthy and completely enamored with him. To her, his sketchy past didn't matter. In fact, he had turned all of that into a well-packaged story.

  The bit about the orphan brought a tear to her eye and banned any further probes about his background. She was polite and Southern so she wouldn’t pry too much. It was just how he liked it. She would be an ideal mortal wife.

  Why not, he thought. Why not ask this young woman yearning for idealistic love to spend the next ten or so years with him? For the moment, it made sense.

  “Charlotte Elizabeth Stephens, I don’t know which one I love more – your old life or your new life. Both are desirable.”

  He liked that his statement seemed to produce a glow about her face.

  “Stefan, this has been a perfect birthday ending.” She gingerly tilted her head against his shoulder.

  He stopped suddenly. Turning his entire body towards her, he took her into the framework of his expansive arms, sturdy from his nightly workout regimen.

  “Excitement knows no ends – only beginnings.” His earnest voice murmured near her ear. “Marry me, Charlotte. Marry me and we’ll only know new beginnings.”

  Charlotte was surprised. “I hardly know you!”

  He grinned. “You hardly know your new life. Spend a lifetime getting to know us both better.”

  In one passionate moment, it all made sense to Charlotte, too.

  * ~ *

  Before dawn, Stefan checked Charlotte into a nearby boutique hotel. He told her that he wanted her to get a good night’s rest before their agreed wedding that evening. A good night’s rest, however, would have to suffice as a good day’s rest since it was already five o’clock a.m.

  Charlotte watched in amazement at how Stefan handled everything from the concierge to the reservationist to the bell captain. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought he’d been doing this for years but the math and his stories didn’t add up. He mentioned that he’d had only one serious girlfriend in his early twenties. Since it would be a first marriage for both of them, Charlotte believed it was truly special. Not a lot of complexities with kids from previous marriages, ex-spouses or out-law family members. With her family unit so small, Stefan would be a nice addition and since she was an only child, she was sure her dad would welcome a son-in-law. Stefan had such a smooth way with everyone that she couldn’t fathom how anyone couldn’t love him.

  “Check with the front desk when you wake up. I’ll have instructions waiting for you.” His soft-spoken words made her tremor.

  Could this be happening she thought. Could it be true? He had already thought ahead to her waking hours. His attention to detail was incredible.

  A light kiss on her forehead was the end of their time together. Once inside her room, she shed her clothes and slipped between the silken sheets. She instantly fell asleep, completely unaware that the first few rays of the day were minutes upon the gray horizon.

  Clipping a fleeting pace, Stefan entered the hotel around the corner – a boutique of a different sort. While he drafted a letter to deliver to Charlotte that morning, he noticed a tall, slender man with hair like corn silk stride the hallway. Stefan turned his back to avoid him. It was that crazy Cajun Bob from LaRoe, Louisiana.

  Bob visited Charleston from time to time claiming that his tastes were more refined than the locale of his origination. Stefan, who considered himself more sophisticated, thought Bob was pretentious at best.

  You could pull the vampire out the swamp but you couldn’t pull the swamp out of the vamp, Stefan thought. The guy ate alligator for crying out loud, although he did assist with population control so Stefan supposed that he was of some credit to his parish.

  Inserting the card key, Stefan slipped into his rented sleeping chamber just before the warning bell chimed. Three chimes meant light was ready to break and four chimes meant the last ray had vanished. A home away from home for all vampires, the Charleston V Hotel had been in operation for centuries.

  * ~ *

  Chapter Six: Plans

  The bright light bounced off the white stationery making the handwriting difficult to read unless Charlotte angled it just so while shielding her eyes from the sun’s stark glare. Sitting on the patio of Celine’s gave Charlotte a sense of Stefan’s presence from their hours there earlier.

  She had woken up to find the message light on her room phone blinking with red fury. Stefan had left a letter for her at the front desk as he had said. Although eager to open it, she waited until she reached the café. What could be better than a great cup of coffee and a mysterious letter? For Charlotte, the day was brighter than any she’d known.

  My dearest Charlotte, Last night was unreal. I trust my bride will wait for me at the marina pier immediately after sunset. Love, Stefan

  Charlotte clutched the letter to her chest as Celine, the owner, headed her way with a carafe of coffee to refill her crackled-white stoneware cup.

  To the rest of the bustling crowd that morning, Charlotte may have appeared as any other young woman leisurely having breakfast, but to Celine, there was something atypical. The paper Charlotte read repeatedly intrigued her because it must have contained something juicy. She could tell the way Charlotte’s facial expressions drifted off in delight with each read.

  Celine suspected Charlotte to be naive. She’d been running the café for almost ten years since she inherited it from her Uncle Leon when she was only twenty-one. Known as an old soul, Celine saw thousands of people each year. She was a good judge of character, not to mention the best pastry chef in Charleston.

  Uncle Leon had given her a job when she was fifteen. After school and in the summers, she poured her creative energies into work, which seemed like play for her. When her uncle started showcasing her ginger crème-filled croissants and coconut éclairs laced with raspberry chocolate icing, the existing stream of clientele doubled and quickly made a secret pact. No tourists. They didn’t want to share the café’s charm with ill-behaved patrons du jour and a brood of bratty children who mostly wanted to say they visited the best coffee shop while in Charleston. A visit to Celine’s was to relish.

  Celine refilled the mug breaking Charlotte’s attention and causing her to look up.

  “I’m marrying the most romantic man this evening,” Charlotte told her.

  Uh, huh, Celine thought. She was right. Charlotte was naïve, not in a ditzy sort of way, rather unaware. She could tell she wasn’t a tourist but she wasn’t a local either.

  “Girl, congratulations, romance is hard to come by these days,” Celine said. She didn’t want to sound like a cynic but this sounded like a situation that had evolved too fast. “Tell me about your dress.”

  “I don’t have one!” Flustered, the statement seemed to shake Charlotte as if asked to name the fifty state capitals or some other equally challenging task.

  Oh, boy, it was too soon, thought Celine. No dress meant unplanned.

  “Will you help me find one? I mean would you direct me to a few shops in the area?”

  “Sure, sure. Let me refill this couple over here and I’ll write down a few places.” Bless her heart, Celine thought. If she didn’t have a full crowd this morning, she would have tried to talk some sense into her but as it was, the café was packed and she would probably never see the young woman again. At least she could
help her find a pretty dress to wear to her wedding. Whether or not it lasted, she would never know.

  Sometimes Celine regretted having any foresight ability, but everyone who knew her said it was a gift from God. She smiled. She knew this young woman would say otherwise. She could see that Charlotte had wedding bells ringing loudly inside her head. She could also see that nothing could compete with that sound except God.

  By now, Charlotte had pictured what kind of flowers she wanted for her bouquet and what type of dress she’d like to find for her special day – or, in her case, evening.

  She wondered if she should call her dad to invite him and June to the wedding ceremony but swiftly dismissed the thought. Charlotte liked the idea of keeping it intimate with Stefan. She would surprise her father later.

  Then there was Perry. He would be disappointed. Well, maybe. Good thing duck season was still in force. He would have his hobby to preoccupy their breakup – if it mattered.

  Perry. Charlotte couldn’t help wonder why or when it went awry with him. He’d been a blind date arranged by a mutual acquaintance from her church who worked in Perry’s office. Charlotte’s first impression was that he was genuine. A bit shy, but as her dad said, Perry was solid. Well liked by his colleagues, clients and close network of friends and family, he’d grown up in south Charlotte where the subdivisions bloomed with young families. His best friend Jake was from elementary school and roomed with him at NC State. There were no surprises with Perry and maybe that was part of the problem, Charlotte thought. Maybe she already knew everything about Perry and that’s all there would ever be. That and ducks.

  Thinking back, it had begun with duck season. Those long hours of pulling feathers had caused the conversations to grow less playful and more serious. Both she and Perry had shared their disappointments from childhood. Hers included a mother who left without explanation when she was twelve and his, a parents’ divorce when he left for college. Nothing unusual for the age they lived so it was unclear to her why she couldn’t open up. Whereas Perry would share his experiences from a faith perspective, she shut down and eventually withdrew from discussing the subject all together.

  Over the years, her father had suggested several times that she may want to consider talking with Pastor Jennings when the questions of why became too overwhelming. Instead, she dwelled upon it internally – feebly trying to rationalize an understanding. In her mind, she created a fantasy that her mother left because she wanted more in the way of excitement. So maybe that was it, Charlotte figured. If Perry wasn’t exciting enough, the marriage wouldn’t work. Maybe she would leave. Upon reflection, she realized that she already had.

  * ~ *

  That same morning at Flowers by Charlotte, Charles leaned over the front counter hoping to find his daughter in the back room since the calls that he’d made to her cell had all gone straight to voicemail. Wednesdays and Thursdays were her usual days off but since the previous night’s shocking exit, he wondered if she had changed her plans.

  “Charlotte?” he called.

  Instead, Tammy walked out surprised to see him.

  “Hello Charles,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was looking for Charlotte. Is she in?”

  “No, it’s her day off, remember? She may be with Perry.”

  Since Perry had a flexible schedule in real estate, he and Charlotte would often spend her off time doing things together. However, Charles had already phoned Perry that morning and he knew today wasn’t one of them.

  “Everything all right?” Tammy asked.

  “I hope so,” Charles hesitated. “She left unexpectedly after dinner last night.” His voice trailed off. Normally, he wouldn’t disclose such matters to an employee but Tammy was a family friend, too. “It seems like something’s troubling her.”

  “Perry,” Tammy said matter-of-factly. “Well, I mean not Perry as much as I think that she’s got marriage on her mind.”

  “Oh, so that’s it,” he said. He instantly felt better knowing the situation would work itself out when the time was right. “If you hear from her, please let her know I stopped by to say hello.”

  Charles left feeling relieved. Charlotte was ready for marriage and children. She had already established a nice business so it was natural for her to want a family. He smiled to himself. In the near future, he would probably have a son-in-law then grandchildren. He believed that Perry was the one.

  * ~ *

  Chapter Seven: Marriage on the Pier

  Since Perry wasn’t the one, Charlotte banished all further thoughts of him as she entered one of the bridal boutiques that Celine had recommended that morning. According to the time of the ceremony, she had allotted herself an hour to select her dress and shoes, then half an hour for her wedding bouquet. In most matters, Charlotte was decisive so she was certain that her schedule was sufficient.

  After perusing the styles and fabrics available, she selected a billowy, floor-length, sheer-sleeved ivory silk gown with a silk bowtie at the waist. The scooped neck accent was a pleated chiffon trim. Charlotte thought it was fitting for a ceremony at the marina pier. Chic and timeless.

  For her flowers, Charlotte mixed a bouquet of champagne-colored spray roses, sweet peas and Eucharist lilies, tied with an ivory satin ribbon to match her dress.

  The final touch was a pair of satin slippers that she could wear comfortably and slip off easily.

  With her last purchase in hand, Charlotte wandered back to the hotel inhaling the cool, crisp autumn air. The day was as picturesque as any artist’s rendering; pale blue skies dotted with a few puffs of cotton-like clouds made it the model backdrop for her wedding on the pier only hours away.

  “I did it,” she said aloud. “I didn’t settle for predictable. Stefan is anything but predictable.”

  * ~ *

  On the second floor of the Charleston V Hotel, the bell chimed four times as the last ray of sunlight sunk beneath the horizon outside the narrow window view.

  Inside the hallway, the cast iron sconces next to each hotel room door flickered until they held a steady light – a signal that the vampire’s day was ready to begin.

  When the doors simultaneously opened, dozens of men and women both young and old, with a variety of dress exited. A mix of professionals blended with touristy types. Nothing distinguished them from mere mortals. They were humanlike with one primary exception: they never died. Burdened with the limitation of darkness, they lived half of each day void of light, love and possessions.

  Stefan felt refreshed. He always slept well at the Charleston V. The snug sleeping chamber had an adjacent dressing area that made it easy to get up and get going. Tonight, Stefan was ready for his wedding at the marina harbor. He had contacted his longtime friend and nighttime catering manager, Rusty Scott, at one of the hotels, which provided the outdoor ceremonies on the water.

  With one call, Stefan had ordered a tuxedo, Justice of the Peace, two violinists, and a horse and carriage for the evening soiree. He had checked the forecast, which called for clear and mild weather with the luminosity of a near full moon. Stefan smiled. Things usually came easy for him in life and why shouldn’t they? He was handsome and charming, an overall lovable character is what he’d been told and he believed it. What was there not to love?

  “Hey, Stefan,” a familiar voice called. “I heard you’d checked in.” However, the syllables, more pronounced, sounded like eye HURd yewd CHETd in.

  Bob. Stefan’s skin tingled with distaste as he turned to see his least favorite vampire dressed for the nightlife. He knew Bob’s customary routine was to hang out at a nice restaurant and survey the single women before hitting a few jazz bars. Stefan detested his approach to life. It was like eating life one big mouthful at a time and not closing his mouth properly when he chewed. Ugh.

  “Bob, how long has it been?” Stefan acknowledged him with his smooth tone.

  Bob ran his fingers through his thin bleached strands of hair. “About fifty or so,” he sai
d slapping Stefan on the back as a long lost best friend.

  Stefan cringed. Tonight of all nights he thought.

  As he wondered how to rid of him, he felt the small, cool hands of a woman cover his eyes as her body brushed against his backside. Wafts of an old, classic fragrance alerted him to its wearer.

  “Hailey, looking good as always.” Stefan complimented Bob’s Charleston gal pal.

  The old broad did hold up well even though she was still hanging out with Bob. He never could figure out their mutual attraction as Hailey had class. He supposed it was her age. At a mortal forty-six, she was too old to consider young and hot, but too young to consider over the hill. Stefan guessed that since she had more eloquence, Bob considered her a catch. In turn, Hailey overlooked Bob’s ill-mannered ways since he was an okay-looking, younger guy. Together, other people may assume Hailey was younger. Whew. Stefan was relieved that he was getting out of the single life. Even in the immortal realm, the complexities of mating were tiresome.

  “Come join Bob and me at The Rattler.” Hailey’s caramel eyes danced at the suggestion.

  “Not tonight,” Stefan said. “No more on the prowl for me. I’m getting married.”

  “Who’s the lucky lady?” Bob asked.

  “Her name’s Charlotte.”

  “Is she from around here?” Hailey asked.

  “No, her namesake. Charlotte, North Carolina.”

  “Introduce us. We’ve got to stay in touch more often,” Bob said as he guided Hailey to the door.

  “Sure, Bob. Great seeing you two.” Stefan waved and headed the opposite direction. Another fifty years would be too soon.

  * ~ *

  The sun waned over the marina harbor as Charlotte took her first step onto the pier. Her skin briefly dimpled with the slight chill coming off the water. She found herself surrounded by wired sculptures of South Carolina’s Palmetto trees. Covered in miniature white lights, they reflected a glimmer against the water’s surface as it faded from cerulean blue to a murky gray with the shadow of the sinking sun.