by C. C. Kelly
Vampires Need Pedicures Too
By
C.C. Kelly
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© Copyright 2012
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The following is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Vampires Need Pedicures Too
Holly still wasn’t sure how she had let Deb talk her into this, best friend or not. Speed dating wasn’t even close to her thing. Nestling into her worn, but comfy couch in a flannel night shirt and thick crocheted socks, her tabby Mittens curled up on her lap as she rides through Longbourn to the Bennet home and the romance of Elizabeth and Darcy or the Antebellum adventures of Scarlet and Rhett - these were her things.
Deb had practically kidnapped her at lunch, dragging her away from re-shelving the reference periodicals to take her shopping at one of the most expensive boutiques in town. Holly couldn’t really afford the dress - or the shoes, but she had slipped out a credit card just the same and now, nearly eight hours later, stood before the blacked out glass doors of the hottest underground restaurant in town wearing a black leather evening dress and what she considered to be dangerous, non-OSHA approved high heels.
She was only vaguely aware that Milton Falls, Iowa had places like this. The taxi pulled away to reveal an empty street and an empty sidewalk shrouded in an amber mist, the effect of the sodium vapor street lamps and the unseasonable humidity of the warm summer evening. Holly couldn’t help but make connections to literary scenes of other people and other places. She was taken with an acute sense of the surreal.
She was brought back from her thoughts by Deb’s hand on her back, “You’re awesome! Who’d have thought you were hiding all this under those awful khakis and sweaters?”
Holly blushed.
She had nearly called the whole thing off on several occasions, once when she laid the dress out across her antique lace duvet and again when she opened the lacquered wooden shoe box. The lid pivoted back on its hinges revealing the burgundy velvet lining and the black heels themselves. They stared up at her - daring her.
She surprised herself when she actually said “Yikes!” out loud; they had appeared less imposing at the store.
She almost phoned Deb again from her apartment lobby, feeling awkwardly out of place as she stared out the front door glass to the waiting taxi, but that wasn’t just due to the mocking high heels. The tight, full length evening dress, a dress that demanded very careful and delicate steps - at least if she wished to remain standing, had the most influence on her doubts. It had taken her nearly twenty minutes to put on, which wasn’t bad in her opinion considering the two rows of buttons that ran from a Victorian collar to just below her bottom, not to mention the fifteen minutes she spent pacing, giving covert sideways glares at the dress, then the shoes, then her phone - plotting to call Deb and be done with the whole unpleasant business.
But now, as she stared at her reflection in the door, long blonde hair framing her heart shaped face, she felt good. She did look amazing, she felt - empowered. Deb had that effect on her.
Deb, the young head Librarian, had piled her dark curls up on top of her head, long dangling diamonds caressing her slender neck. Holly thought she looked like a movie star. She wore high heeled, lacey, white old fashioned boots and a long, white, skin tight dress with a slit up the side that ended just above good taste; a high, lacey collar that accentuated her dark complexion finished the ensemble.
“One of us has to kill tonight,” Deb whispered in her ear as the maitre de opened the door and escorted them inside.
The two women followed and entered the dark candle lit interior of La Bistro Nost. Holly again found her nerves pushing back, but Deb wrapped her in her arms and gave Holly a quick hug and a reassuring look - those pale gray blue eyes were so comforting.
Deb took one arm and pulled Holly close like a teenage girlfriend as they clicked across the cigar toned marble floor of the outer bar, past the curtains held by the maitre de and then into the dimly lit, dining room proper. Two rows of mission styled dark wooden tables ran the length of the amber and graphite décor. Along the inside of the tables, at the walls, ran leather benches that terminated at the far end of the room. Twelve tables, now occupied by twenty-two amazingly fashionable people - they were late.
“You spend fifteen to twenty minutes with each guy and then you switch. Maybe get some phone numbers, maybe give yours and maybe, just maybe get a real date for once. And have fun Holly, relax. I have a good feeling about tonight.”
Holly stood still as Deb pulled away, her smile fading as she headed for a table with a sandy blonde metro-sexual type sitting on the bench. He pulled his glasses off as she gracefully slipped into the chair across from him. Holly watched Deb rest her elbows on the table and then raise her hands in a matter-of-fact fashion to cradle her face, as if to say, “I’m bored, entertain me.”
Holly slowly followed, her heels clicking over the quiet conversations heading for the only remaining open seat across from - she barely held the laugh inside.
Oh no, not that! This is awful, please God no. Fifteen minutes, no laughing, she insisted to herself. Make that twenty-one amazingly fashionable people.
He sat against the wall. Holly could tell he was on the short side, or it could have been his awful posture. He had some dark hair poking out from under a ball cap with some faded beer logo on it. His complexion was on the lighter side, but looked washed out and sickly against the light mauve and green plaid sport coat, bright yellow tie and burgundy shirt.
The poor guy must be color blind. I can forgive that, but the hat? Seriously?
Holly stopped before the table and felt his eyes crawl up her body, until they finally met her own. Her nerves said ‘run away’. He wasn’t undressing her - it felt more like he was tasting a bomb pop and the sensation of being a frozen confection didn’t sit well with Holly, but it was those eyes that gave her pause. He was creepy, that much was true, but there was something else as well. She willed herself to sit down next to Deb and play along - fifteen minutes.
He didn’t stand up in courteous greeting, he just stared at her and then leaned over, “What color are my eyes?”
Holly, in a deliberate act to play ball for Deb’s sake, leaned in closer, “Green?”
He smiled a radiant thrilling smile that made Holly tingle - deep pools of a mountain lake green eyes, green eyes that spoke to her, green eyes she would obey.
He leaned back and seemed to relax, “So, hi. My name is Tim.”
“Wheeton, I mean Holly, Holly Wheeton,” she stammered looking down at the table. She felt like she was back in junior high.
“Hi Holly.”
“Hi.”
“I think we should talk about me, what do you say?”
That sounded wonderful, she thought as she looked up from the table, meeting his eyes again - what had she been thinking, only fifteen minutes? Of course she wanted to hear about him. Deb was right; this was going to be fun after all.
“Hey, peach jacket, am I right or am I right, huh?”
She grinned; he did cut quite a figure as they used to say in the old movies she so enjoyed.
“I dress pretty hot most of the time, I’m just saying, but I’m really a casual guy, really. But, hey, want to know a secret?”
Holly leaned in conspiratorially.
Tim glanced right and left and then leaned in closer, “I’m rich. I got money coming out my ass - oh yeah, I’m wicked rich.”
“A
nd?”
“And nothing, I’m just saying, that’s all.” He winked.
“How wonderful for you,” she grinned, happy with her quip.
Tim winked again, “Wonderful for us maybe, just saying.”
Holly smiled again, handsome, charismatic, well spoken, sharp dresser and not that she cared about money, but he was rich too - bonus. And he seemed interested, this was going much better than she could have ever imagined.
“So you are what, twenty seven? Tim asked.
Holly leaned back in her seat in surprise, “Yes, just this month, how did you know? Lucky guess?”
“Some luck, some practice. I used to work at a carnival and guessing people’s ages was one of my tricks.”
“A circus? That must have been fun.”
“Yeah, it was, it was. But hey, that was a long time ago, just after the war.”
“Iraq?”
“No,” Tim laughed softly, “the big one, W-W-two.”
“No way, you can’t be over thirty! You’re pulling my leg. My uncle used to say that.”
“Uncle, huh? Well, nope Uncle Wheeton, not pulling any legs, least not right now,” he smiled as he glanced down at her breasts.
Holly crossed her arms to cover her cleavage, put off by his forwardness, but excited just the same. Their eyes met again and that tingle returned and then she dropped her hands back to her lap.
Tim glanced around again and motioned her to come closer with one hand, “I got another secret.”
“Yes, please.”
Tim looked around with a dramatic flair and then leaned back into the conversation, “I’m three-hundred and thirty-seven years old.”
She giggled and covered her face politely, “Now you are being silly.”
“No, no, no, really. Look it, I got one more really big secret, and it’s like huge.”
Holly pushed the candle center piece off to the side and leaned even closer.
Tim looked at her then pulled back, “Not sure I can trust you with this one.”
“You can, you can trust me, honest!” she pouted.
“Okay, so here it is, I’m just saying, you sure I can trust you?”
“Yes, you so can!”
Tim once again made a show of looking around to see if the coast was clear and then motioned with one finger for Holly to come closer. She leaned over until their faces nearly touched and she tilted her head sideways slightly and tucked her hair behind a sapphire studded ear. She felt his breath, first on her cheek, then on her neck and then warm moist caresses on her ear - the tingle was almost paralyzing.
“I’m a vampire,” he whispered.
Holly’s eyebrows shot up in surprise; not in shock or amazement, but much as she would have had he said he was a dental hygienist.
She slowly pulled away from that wonderful breath and faced him questioningly.
“No shit Nancy, the real deal. If I’m lying I’m dying. No, no, no, really - an honest to God vampire. I’m not talking about some fuck-nut who got some plastic teeth down at the mall and has a medicine cabinet full of eyeliner, black lipstick and nail polish. Nope, real deal here babe.
“I was reborn, so to speak, outside of Boston, back before the colonies were really even colonies. Those were the days.”
Holly was enthralled, could it be true? Could he really be a vampire? She looked up into those emerald green eyes again and knew it was true. Tim was a vampire.
“Will you tell me about those days? Sometime?”
“I think I will, someday.”
A silence settled over the table, not an uncomfortable one, rather a familiar one - a lull between friends. Tim looked into her eyes and for the first time really noticed them, golden and amber flecked brown, large and luminescent in the candlelight. He paused, considering and remembering. He pushed the thoughts away, it had been too long to go back, but the scent from her neck and her hair lingered.
“What’s it like? That what you going to ask?”
“Yes,” Holly responded, thinking for a moment, “What is it like?”
“Fucking amazing is what! No shit Sherlock, being a vampire has been the best thing that ever happened to me in my whole life, well - life,” he chuckled.
Holly found herself smiling with him again, “Okay, seems you want to talk about it, so is it true, all the things they say in the movies and books?”
“No, not really, I was just being silly,” he said without much conviction, a sliver of regret for his earlier words and actions was already taking root, those long absent thoughts unwilling to remain pushed aside, tethered by that haunting scent.
She just looked at him blankly as if to say, “I’m waiting.”
“Okay, so I probably know what you’re thinking; it would be exciting to think that all of those taboos and all were real. I know. So let me help you out a little bit here. Almost everything you think you know about us vampires is crap. All that pop culture stuff, yeah, it’s just not true.”
Holly folded her hands under her chin and gave Tim her undivided attention.
“For example, know what happens when we go out in the sunlight? I’ll give you three guesses.”
Holly perked up, worried, “Oh no, is it true, you…” she began fearfully.
Tim laughed softly to reassure her, “Nope, we don’t burst into flames.”
“Oh, good! Then…” She had been hoping that he would ask her out to a lunch date, and if he burst into flames and burnt to a cinder that would certainly spoil everything.
“Nope, we don’t glitter either, like some two-bit stripper. Thanks for that by the way Stephanie,” Tim said as he glanced toward the front doors.
“Hey, I loved those books! Then what happens, you don’t sound worried about it?”
“Nope. Know what happens when we go out in the sun?”
Holly shook her head, eyes wide and curls bouncing.
“We fucking tan that’s what!” He laughed uproariously and banged the table with one palm, “It’s the fucking sun!”
Holly leveled a patronizing smirk, almost like they were old friends reminiscing, but not quite like it had been a few moments earlier.
He took one of the linens and dabbed an eye, “Am I fucking funny or what? I’m just saying.”
“Funniest guy you know I’m sure. Just saying.”
Tim slowly stopped laughing, unsettled to be the only one and glanced away - those damn memories would be his undoing.
“Anyway. Okay, what else? What do you want to know?”
Holly focused on his eyes again as she thought about the question, they were pretty green, but not the burning pools of emotion she had seen before - a trick of the light perhaps, “Okay,” she thought for a moment, “what about reflections?”
“Yep, we have reflections just like anything else, not some invisible man bullshit, how do you think we shave?”
“Shave? I never thought about vampires shaving,” she grinned at the thought.
“Uh, yeah, see the thing is - we’re not dead or undead for that matter, not exactly. It’s more like we age real, real slow. But the whiskers still grow, finger nails too. And we got to brush the fangs and all - right? Hygiene is very important, even to vampires and breath mints can only take you just so far.”
Holly couldn’t stop smiling, remembering his soft intoxicating breath on her ear, a ghost of a memory now, did he really whisper in her ear?
“What about being invited in? I always thought that sounded, off somehow,” she asked.
“Clever girl, you’d be right. We don’t need to be invited in or any bullshit like that, we can come in and kill you in your sleep whenever we want. Bust right through a door or window.”
Holly pulled back, a tremor of fear touching her eyes.
“We heal real fast though - still hurts, but, oh, you meant - sorry.
“We don’t do that so much, not anymore. I mean the police can still cause trouble. And to be honest I like my apartment here, I kind of like watching TV too, so moving around all t
he time sucks. No police, which means not killing folks in their sleep. Feel better?”
Tim felt that old familiar gnawing; it seemed important to put Holly’s mind at ease with his words, not his mind.
“Okay, some. I mean the whole thing is a little scary,” she grinned again nervously, “exciting, but still scary.”
Tim smiled at her, “It can be, but not with me, not too much anyway - the latter, not the former.”
“So does anything get it right? Like TV shows or movies?”
“Movies, let’s see. Most of them are all wrong too, just like I said about everything else. Well, Interview with a Vampire came pretty close to be fair, apart from the whole sun thing. But I’m not a big Anne Rice fan, oh who am I shitting, I never read the book - I saw the movie.”
“I like her books.”
“Read a lot, huh?”
“I work at the Library, yes, I read - a - lot,” she smiled. “So what did you think of the movie?”
“It was cool, great acting and all. Now I’m not a homophobe or nothing.”
“Which means you are about to say something homophobic, right?”
He studied her cautiously, but couldn’t help himself and said it anyway, “After they killed off Kirsten it turned into a sausage fest there at the end. I’m just saying.”
“A sausage fest? Really? Aren’t you a little old to be pledging to a fraternity? I wouldn’t have thought a vampire would be afraid of homosexuality, the books always make you all seem at least bi-sexual, but that’s wrong too?”
He looked away, slightly embarrassed, “Maybe.”
Holly grinned at his discomfort, “Hmmm, so how about a stake through the heart?”
“Sucks, but no, not going to get the job done.”
“Crosses?”
“Crosses? Okay, let me say this about crosses,” Tim began, regaining his composure, “Where has human rationality gone on this one? I never did understand it, it’s like all of the writers were smoking something, if you know what I mean.”
“I hear tell, yes.”
“Look, the cross is an icon of Jesus, right?”