by Amira Rain
The following day, he fed her breakfast and played with her for a few hours while I slept in. When I came downstairs, Carol told me that he’d just left, which made me think that he’d done so directly in response to hearing my footsteps or something. As for Hayden showering and sleeping, his damp towel in our master bathroom told me that he was coming home to shower when I was out. The comforter on our bed occasionally being slightly mussed told me that he was doing the same with his sleeping schedule, taking his once-a-day “vampire nap” at a time when I wasn’t around.
Although slightly wounded by all this, I told myself that I didn’t care, and a little part of me really didn’t. This was the little part of me that honestly thought that Hayden and I needed some time apart to cool off from our argument in the dining room. On the other hand, though, a big part of me that I continually tried to ignore, felt like it was absolutely insane for Hayden and me to intentionally spend any more time apart, since we’d pretty much been doing just that since I’d first moved to the farm. And all this time apart seemed to be at the heart of all our problems, or was at least greatly worsening them.
Not knowing if I should text or call Hayden, or try to catch him out on patrol in the forestland, or what, I did nothing, and Friday marked the fourth day of the two of us not communicating. Over dinner at the island that evening, Carol asked me if something was wrong; however, just then, Jen more or less burst into the kitchen, trumpeting a loud announcement.
“It’s on, guys! The party is on! Dad said yes! I just talked to him on the phone.”
I wasn’t sure what party she was referring to, although I knew that Jen simply talking to Mark was something of an accomplishment in and of itself. Unlike Hayden, he hadn’t actively been avoiding anyone, but he had been working long hours at his law office in Sweetwater, and he’d also been out of town some days, having to travel to the courthouse in Ann Arbor for an important case.
Because of all his traveling and preparation for the case, he hadn’t been home much, and difficult to reach by phone. Jen had tried to stay up late to see him the night before, but she hadn’t managed to make it to past midnight, which was when he finally came home.
Looking up at her with interest, Carol asked Jen what kind of a party Mark had said yes to.
As if enjoying drawing out the suspense a little, Jen hopped up on a barstool, giggling a bit, and served herself several pieces of baked chicken from a casserole dish before responding. “It’s gonna be a special party…a barn party.”
Just then, Mel entered the kitchen, having returned from putting Chrissy to bed for me, because she’d fallen asleep in her high chair during dinner. Having apparently caught what Jen had just said, Mel had a seat on a barstool, fixing her with a worry-wart look. “How is that whatever ‘special’ barn party you’re planning on going to, any different from the dozens of other parties we’ve had in the various barns here over the years?”
Snorting hard, Jen set a drumstick back on her plate before turning to look at Mel with a withering glare. “This party is going to be special because my new adoptive grandparents are coming. That’s right. I have adoptive grandparents, and you don’t. Even though me and you are twins, Bucky and Phyllis still don’t acknowledge you as their granddaughter, too, because I’ve told them how terrible you are.
Some of their really cool friends from the campground where they live are coming to the party, too, and they can’t wait to visit with me, and pinch my cheeks, and meet all the members of my whole big Mennonite family here on the farm. All the members of my family except you, though, obviously.”
Rolling her eyes, Mel grabbed a magazine from the side of the island and flipped it open. “Haven’t you told your ‘new adoptive grandparents’ that we’re not Mennonites?”
“Of course, I have. And they believe me, but all the Sweetwater people at the campground just can’t get it out of their heads that we’re not Mennonites, because they’ve just had it stuck in their heads so long. I even tried telling this one lady, Lucille, that we’re not Mennonites, but she was just like, ‘Oh, any farm around here with almost a hundred people living on it in a big private compound…that’s either an Amish farm or a Mennonite farm.’ Like I don’t even know where I live or something.
So, I told her again that we’re not Mennonites, and then I started to say instead that we’re really a Watcher community, but then I remembered about Dad’s vampire contract, and I was just like, ‘Yeah…you’re right, Lucille. We’re Mennonites.”
By “Dad’s vampire contract,” Jen was referring to a contract Mark had made her sign, promising not to tell anyone anything about living in a Watcher community, or that most of her family members were vampires. Drawing on his experience as a lawyer, Mark had made the contract very detailed, including all sorts of technicalities, stipulations, and addendums, one of which stated that Jen was not to tell anyone about the “family secret,” “either in jest or in earnest,” which he’d had to explain to her.
He’d drawn up this contract and had made Jen sign it not long after she’d spilled the beans about the “family secret” to Carol long before Mark was ready to have it spilled.
While Jen began chowing down on her baked chicken and vegetables, Carol and I resumed eating, and Mel began flipping through her magazine. And for a while, the kitchen was quiet except for the low hum of some talk radio show Carol had playing on quietly while she was cooking.
However, after finishing a drumstick, Carol dabbed her mouth with a paper napkin, and then asked Jen, a bit hesitantly, when the party would take place. Jen said Saturday night, which was the next day, and Carol again spoke, with some hesitancy or discomfort.
“Your dad’s been really stressed and busy lately, so maybe he didn’t have time to fully think the party idea through; and considering the threat from the Warrens that we’re living under here at the farm—”
Jen cut her off, saying that she already knew what she was going to say, and that Mark had considered all the angles and ramifications of having a party while under an uncertain threat, but that he thought it was okay. “He even hung up our call halfway through to call Hayden just to make sure that the party wasn’t a bad idea or something, and Hayden said it was fine.
He said we’ll just make the party on the shorter side and not some kind of a late-into-the-night sort of thing, which is probably fine for all my older friends anyway, and he said that he’ll just have his normal guard patrol out protecting the farm, except that he’ll be inside the party himself, just to make sure everything was perfectly okay, and that any Warrens won’t hurt any of our guests.”
Mel turned her gaze from Jen to Carol, shrugging. “That sounds fine. It’s not like we don’t have a ton of outsiders here daily at the creamery and for strawberry picking anyway.”
Carol, who tended to be kind of a worrier, knitted her brows. “I know, but that’s during the daytime…and if and when the Warrens attack, I have a feeling that it might be in the evening or night-time, so that they have cover of darkness.” Still knitting her brows, Carol suddenly looked at Jen. “What do you say we have your party earlier in the evening, like, say, maybe five or six o’clock?”
Jen shook her head. “That just won’t work. Part of the fun of the party is going to be a bonfire outside, and bonfires just aren’t as fun in broad daylight. Besides, right after I hung up with my dad, I already texted Bucky and Phyllis to tell everyone that the party will be from eight to eleven at night, and they’ve probably already started telling people. For another thing, the Warrens will never attack us when it’s dark out, anyway.”
Carol asked her how she could be so sure, and Jen shrugged.
“A night-time attack is too obvious. They’ll just never do it.”
Mel started to say that it was a silly thing to be so sure of, but Jen cut her off.
“Hey! Who was right about Carla being sketchy, from the very first day we met her? Here’s a hint. It wasn’t you, Mel, and it wasn’t anyone else on this farm. It was me. Rememb
er that? I just know things. I might even be a psychic. My Grandma Phyllis believes in all that sort of stuff, and she says lots of people are psychic. Bet she’d think that I’m psychic if I told her the story about Carla. Which I won’t, because of Dad’s vampire contract, but still. The bottom line is that I’m probably psychic, and you should just respect that, and not make stupid little comments about it.”
Heaving a sigh while doing an eye roll for the ages, Mel went back to flipping through her magazine, and I finally got the chance to ask Jen something.
“So, Hayden will definitely be there for the party, then? The entire time?”
I just wasn’t sure that he wanted to be in the same space with him just yet, even if that space was a big ol’ barn.
In response to my questions, Jen said yes, and I turned my gaze to my plate and began picking at my vegetables. “Oh. Well, that’s too bad, because I’m not sure if I’ll be able to make the party myself…just because that’s past Chrissy’s bedtime and all, and I’ll need to be home with her.”
That was a genuine consideration.
Mel looked up from her magazine. “Oh, don’t even worry about that. I bet Chrissy would love to go to the party, and I bet if you put her down for a nap late in the afternoon, she’ll at least be able to stay up for an hour or two of the party, anyway. I’ll look after her there. Then, when she falls asleep, I’ll take her home for you, so that you can keep enjoying the party with Hayden.”
Uncomfortable, I told Mel that she really didn’t need to do that.
Undeterred, she said it was really no big deal. “I love taking care of Chrissy, and I’m sure all Jen’s elderly friends will love meeting her at the party. Not to mention that all the Watchers here on the farm who don’t get a chance to see Chrissy on a daily basis will get to see her. Besides, with all that’s been going on, I bet you and Hayden really need some sort of a ‘date night,’ where you can just be a married couple for a few hours, and not just parents.”
I tried to manage a smile. “That sounds nice. Thank you for offering to watch Chrissy.”
Apparently, my smile wasn’t very genuine, because it prompted Mel to develop a worried or a skeptical sort of look. Not wanting to look her in the eyes anymore, I began picking at my dinner again, and I could almost just feel her studying me for a few moments before she spoke.
“Hey, Syd? Is everything okay with you and Hayden? Now that I’m thinking about it, I feel like I haven’t seen you guys together in…well, a really long time. Maybe not even once since he’s been home.”
Across the island, Carol chimed in softly. “I’ve been wanting to ask you the same thing…if all is okay with you and Hayden.”
Without giving me a chance to respond, Jen chimed in. “Now I’m wondering if all is okay with you and Hayden. And you don’t have to say anything to Mel and Carol, but since I’m your best friend, I kind of have a right to know.”
With her expression one of outrage, Mel scoffed and told Jen that she certainly did not have a “right” to know. “Of all the stupid, entitled, nonsensical things you’ve ever said, that’s got to be the most—”
“I don’t mind, though, Mel.” I’d cut Mel off, and with her gaze now on me, I gave my throat a little clear. “I really don’t mind. Jen is my best friend, and although she maybe doesn’t have a ‘right’ to know, I guess I don’t mind sharing with you all now, since apparently it’s become pretty clear to everyone that Hayden and I are having a rough patch.”
Looking at me with their eyes a little wide, no one spoke, and I continued.
“It’s really no big deal. We just had a little disagreement a few days ago about Hayden kind of being an absolute controlling jerk by refusing to let me leave the farm with Chrissy in order to keep her safe from the Warrens and Carla.”
Carol and Mel exchanged glances, as if maybe they’d both expected that this was what had been going on.
Carol said she was sorry to hear that Hayden and I had a disagreement. “But…now that a few days have passed, can you maybe see his point about wanting you and Chrissy to stay on the farm where he can best protect you?”
Feeling more like a twelve-year-old girl than a supposedly mature nineteen-year-old married young woman, I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “Yes…I get that. But I don’t really appreciate the feeling of being controlled.”
“You’re looking at things the wrong way.” Mel had spoken, and she continued while looking me right in the eyes, expression nonchalant. “It seems like it’s all probably just a problem in perception. You perceive that you’re being controlled, but in reality, you’re being protected by a man who loves you. Just change your perspective, and the problem disappears, along with all the resentment you feel.”
Carol nodded. “That makes sense to me. Change the way you think about his requests and actions, and you change the way you feel about Hayden.”
I lifted my shoulders in a feeble shrug. “I guess I could try.”
The only problem was that I really didn’t feel that motivated to try. Something about “trying” felt too much like “giving in.”
Carol said that trying to see things differently was a good start. Looking at me, Jen said she had an idea for a “better start.”
“Just promise to come to the barn party tomorrow night, and I’ll get you and Hayden back together. You’ll see.”
Still not sure that I wanted to go to the party and see Hayden, I began to protest, but Jen cut me off.
“No. No making excuses or any of that junk. You have a babysitter for the party; you only live a thousand feet away or whatever from the party barn; and you have all sorts of cool clothes to wear. So, you’re coming. And it doesn’t even matter what all you and Hayden are fighting about, I’m gonna make it so that the two of you fall right back in love with each other during the party.”
Mel snorted. “Because after all, no one can resist the pure romance of dancing among a dozen senior citizens with walkers.”
Scowling, Jen banged a fist on the island. “None of my friends have walkers! None of them do! And, anyway, so what if they did? People with walkers can be cool. People in wheelchairs can be cool. People who don’t even have any legs at all can be cool. Basically, you’re the only one who isn’t cool, Mel, because you have a very uncool attitude about things sometimes.”
“All right, girls.” Carol got up from her barstool and got between Mel and Jen, putting an arm around each of them. “I love my stepdaughters, and I don’t want them to argue. So, how about we all get to cleaning up after dinner now?”
Jen said no. “At least, not until Sydney says that she’ll for sure come to the barn party tomorrow.”
Groaning inwardly, I hesitated, and Jen spoke again.
“Come on, Syd, don’t you want to meet all my cool new friends and my grandparents?”
I did want to meet her new friends and her grandparents, although I would have preferred to do that when Hayden wasn’t around. Nonetheless, knowing that she was going to persist, I told Jen that I would “for sure” go to the barn party.
“I can’t promise that Hayden and I will be glued at the hip all night, though.”
Jen gave me a little look with her eyes twinkling. “Yeah. We’ll see about that.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Friendly, gray-haired, and energetic, Jen’s adoptive grandparents were somehow just exactly how I’d pictured them. Her new friends from the campground were similarly friendly, gray-haired, and energetic, so much so that many of them took to the makeshift dance floor right after arriving at the party. And for most of them being in their sixties and seventies, they sure could line dance with the best of them.
I had to wonder if there was something about the adventurous lifestyle of the RV crowd that kept them young. At any rate, Jen fit right in with this crowd, jumping right into the dancing with a few loud whoops of delight.
I myself wasn’t in as much of a party time mood. I was far too preoccupied with thoughts of what Hayden was going to say to me whe
n he saw me, if he even said anything to me at all. For all I knew, he wanted our silence of the previous few days to become a permanent thing. I just had no idea what to expect.
I didn’t even know what to expect from myself when I saw Hayden. I still loved him deeply; I knew that much. And, although I kind of hated to admit it, I knew that Mel and Carol had been speaking the truth at dinner the evening before. Hayden was just trying to keep me and Chrissy safe, and he wasn’t necessarily trying to “control” me. However, knowing this in my head was one thing, and pretending that I still wasn’t feeling anger, resentment, and frustration was definitely another.
In fact, even though I’d tried to fight it, I was still simmering about some of the things that Hayden had said to me, such as he was going to make decisions for me until I could “display better judgment.” This statement made my anger flare anew every single time I thought of it, and I just didn’t know how to get over it. Maybe more importantly, I just didn’t know if I wanted to get over it. I felt some sort of dignity in remaining irritated and angry, even though at the same time, holding on to these emotions was making me feel more than a bit guilty and immature.
It turned out that all these different things, and all the different emotions I was feeling, were no match for the simple act of me seeing Hayden’s face. Instantly, my heart seemed to do some sort of little stutter step, just like it had done the first time I’d seen him. Looking at him from across the barn, I suddenly couldn’t even remember just what, exactly, I was so irritated with him for.
I’ve been an idiot. That was all I could think. That, and I’ve been an idiot for just not apologizing for our argument and trying to make an attempt to move on.