Living Violet

by Jaime Reed

  He considered his answer for a moment. “At ease. Happy.”

  “And that doesn’t fill you up?”

  “Yes, it does. I’m full of excitement and energy. My pet is quite pleased. You are his Scooby Snack.” Another cocky grin shot my way.

  I tossed back my hair. “I bet you say that to all the girls. But does it have a name? I mean at all?”

  Caleb shrugged and shoveled a week’s worth of carbs in his mouth.

  “We should name him. I have suggestions.” I sifted through my stack of cards.

  Caleb stopped mid-chew. “What?”

  “Hey, if this is gonna work, you need to personalize your demon.”

  “It’s not a—”

  “Whatever. I have some suggestions that I wanna run by you, and see if he likes it.” I cleared my throat again. “Pookie, Balthazar, Damien, Zulu, Obi-Wan—”

  “Remind me to never have children with you. Those names are hideous. Why can’t he have a normal name?”

  I rubbed my chin. “Something mysterious and exotic like ... Fernando.”

  “Hell, no.”

  “Or Diego, or Bruce.”

  He grimaced. “Bruce?”

  “Yeah, it’s a good tough-guy name.” When Caleb shook his head, I moved on. “Loki, the god of mischief.”

  He paused. “Maybe.”

  “I know, how about Leroy?”

  Jabbing his food, he shook his head. “You are so—”

  “Yes, I have ghetto tendencies, but it’s a good family name.”

  Caleb’s expression was pensive as he stared off into space. “You know what? I think he likes it.”

  I perked up. “What, Leroy? Really?”

  “No!” he snapped, then continued eating.

  “Fine, let’s see, what’s a nice tough-guy name? Ooh, Capone. That’s straight gangsta.”

  Caleb leaned back in his seat and watched me. Slowly, a curl formed in the corner of his mouth. “Capone. I like that. I think he likes it too.”

  “So it’s official. Your sentient being will hereby be regarded to as Capone,” I declared as we shook hands.

  Wiping the syrup from my fingers, I noticed the waitress approaching us again. This should’ve annoyed me, but I wanted to observe the exchange from a scientific perspective, to watch the predator operate within his natural habitat.

  The waitress asked if Caleb wanted more waffles. She barely looked at me, not even when I jangled my empty cup at her for a refill. She bent over to take Caleb’s first plate, showing him the benefits of having a good plastic surgeon. But Caleb seemed more impressed with the stack on the table slathered in butter. Cake Boy was on a mission and nothing could distract a guy from his food.

  When she left, he looked at me. “Hope that doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”

  I stared at my hands. Needing something to do with them, I rummaged through the condiment rack at the end of the table. “Occupational hazard, I guess.”

  “I’m not interested, Sam.”

  “Hey, who am I to get jealous?”

  He looked at me under heavy lids. “It’s okay if you are. It shows that you care.”

  “It just shows that your ego is bigger than your stomach.”

  Resting his elbow on the table, he leaned forward. “If a man could have any woman in the world, except the woman he wanted, how happy would you think he’d be?”

  I shrugged. “He’d be preoccupied.”

  “And empty. I feel sorry for those women, really. Women’s attraction for me only translates that they’re unhappy.”

  I shifted in my seat. “Elaborate.”

  “Take the woman in the bookstore. What little energy I took from her, I could tell she was unloved. She was abandoned at a young age and never found her real parents. That one at Europia Park, her husband left her after twelve years of marriage for his personal trainer. And the other was a widow. All those women were hurting and wanted to be loved. The need was so desperate, they left themselves open to anyone. That’s not a good way to be, especially in my case.”

  “What about my mom?” I asked.

  “She doesn’t act as bad as most, but she needs to get out more. I like your mom a lot. She reminds me so much of my mom, it’s scary.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  As if to confirm his remark, Caleb dug in his back pocket and retrieved his wallet. I waited while he sifted through each compartment. A moment later, his hands reached out to me with a small photo clamped between two trembling fingers.

  I recognized the woman before he spoke her name. Caleb’s mother was not only a beautiful woman, but Adriane Baker and my mom could’ve passed as cousins. Though their similarities were notable, so were their differences. The main difference being that one of them died half a decade ago.

  I returned the picture and awaited Caleb’s response. He took his time, gently tucking the photo into its secret compartment, careful not to rip or bend the edges. His entire body centered on that simple action, and he wouldn’t utter a single word until the task was complete.

  Tension spread over the table like a vicious rumor. Breaking the ice, Caleb spoke up. “You’re mom is a very intriguing woman. It’s hard to believe she has problems finding a man.”

  “She’s going on a speed date on Saturday.”

  Caleb’s eyebrows rose. “Oh yeah? Do those things work? They kinda remind me of some sort of love musical chairs.”

  “Well, we’ll find out on Saturday.” I looked down and played with the index cards. “Mmm, Caleb, is there something wrong with me?”

  “Of course there is,” he affirmed.

  “No, I mean emotionally. Why doesn’t the draw work on me? Am I an ice queen, or emotionally handicapped, or something?”

  Caleb dropped his fork and he reached for my hand. “Samara, look at me. There’s nothing wrong with you. Like I said, not all women are affected by it. The fact that you’ve never been in love and don’t want to be makes your resistance very high. Among other things,” he mumbled the last part, then lifted his fork.

  “Like what?”

  Dodging my curious stare, he murmured, “I don’t wanna embarrass you.”

  “You won’t.”

  “Well, the same reason why my allure doesn’t affect Alicia or children. The draw doesn’t normally work on ... the chaste.” His eyes slowly met mine.

  I was now thankful for the disclaimer. It was beyond disconcerting to have someone, especially a guy, put my virginity on blast.

  The red flush to his cheeks revealed that I wasn’t the only one uncomfortable. “I told you you’d be embarrassed.”

  “Is that why you’re after me all of a sudden?”

  He snickered. “And you talk about my ego.”

  “Well, you barely looked at me in the year and a half I’ve worked at Buncha Books, and now I can’t get rid of you. What’s up with that?”

  “I looked at you a lot. You just never looked back. As far as how this started, you approached me; you came to my side of the store and sparked a conversation with me, and I took the opportunity for what it was. Like I said before, you’re pretty standoffish when you want to be, and you have every right in my case, but man, would it kill you to say hello once in a while?” His reply came out a little tart and tangy, showing more hurt from my avoidance than he would ever confess.

  Heat spread to my cheeks, but I kept my posture of indifference. Pouting my lips, I whined, “Aw, poor baby. I figured all the attention you had, you wouldn’t notice me anyway.”

  “I did notice, and you left an impression on me. For what it’s worth, I like you this way, snide, cautious, and just plain weird. You’re not blinded by the draw. You can see me for who I really am and you’re still sitting here with me.”

  “Well, we came here in your car. I’m not walking home.”

  “Sam.” He laughed softly. “What else is on your list?”

  “Oh, yeah.” I skimmed down my notes. “What powers do you have?”

  “I already told you.”
>
  “No, I mean like super powers. Are you strong?”

  “I work out.” He winked.

  “Can you lift a bus?” I asked, ignoring his cheesiness.

  “No. What extra strength I do have comes from my spirit, similar to an adrenaline rush. It doesn’t last long.”

  “Do you have super speed?”

  “Not really. I’m pretty quick, but I won’t be dodging any bullets in my future.”

  “You might wanna rethink that when you meet my dad,” I said. “So can you fly, or read minds, or teleport, or disappear through walls?”

  “No. I’m human, Sam. I can bleed; I catch colds, and can die just like everyone else. All I’ve got is my looks,” he said, offering more cheese and grinning the entire time.

  I tossed the index cards on the table. “Well, damn, you’re like the worst superhero ever! How are you gonna fight crime?”

  “The same way everyone else does. Call the cops.”

  “You can use it to your advantage, you know.”

  His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You want me to become a gigolo like the one in your book, don’t you?”

  Avoiding his gaze, I continued the construction of my sugar-packet fort. “Okay, the thought did cross my mind, but you know how much money you would make if customers didn’t die?”

  He returned his focus to his plate. “Next question.”

  “All right. You said you had sisters. Do they have a ‘Capone’ also?”

  “No. Like I said, my sentient is male, so it only affects the men in our family. Female Cambions exist, they come from the line of the succubi—the female counterpart of the incubi. If my mom carried the trait, then only my sisters would have the affliction.”

  I fought to hold back my alarm. “How many siblings do you have again?”

  “Three brothers and two sisters. And they have healthy relationships. My oldest brother has two children.”

  “Oh.” I directed my attention to the window.

  I couldn’t fathom dating this guy, let alone marriage and kids. Though he was human, there were just some things I couldn’t overlook. If Caleb had the soul of a demon in his body, I would hate to see the real deal. And if such creatures existed, then logic suggested other beings loomed in the shadows, a territory I never wanted to explore.

  I could feel his eyes on my every move; its silent demand forced me to look his way. He sat up straight; his laid-back demeanor fell away, presenting an image of unabashed humility. “I can have a normal life. I want a normal life. All I need is time with you. Can you do that?”

  I never answered the question. It dangled in the air between us all the way home. I had only gotten through half the flash cards when we left the diner, and Caleb saw it as incentive to go on another date. He would’ve walked me to the door but decided against it when he saw Mom’s car parked in the driveway.

  When I went inside, Mom met me in the foyer with the phone. “Honey, it’s your dad for you.”

  I took the phone and made my way upstairs. “Hey, Daddy, what’s up?”

  “Hey, baby girl. I tried calling your cell, but I got your voice mail again. I’m sorry about your friend. How are you holding up?”

  “As good as expected.”

  “If you need to talk about anything, you know where to reach me.”

  “I know.” I entered my room, then plopped on the bed.

  “Well, the reason I’m calling is because I need the information to the dealership that’s holding your car. I wanna see if they’re willing to go down on the price.”

  That brought a smile to my face. If anyone knew how to haggle, it was my dad. I scrambled for the dealer’s information hiding on my desk. I rattled off the contact number and thanked him. A true knight in shining armor. His talent for slaying monsters might come in handy. I just hope I never had to make that call.

  13

  Linda stood behind the folding chair, not even bothering to sit down.

  “All right, I want to make this cut and dry. I’ve got plans, and none of you are going to make me late. So who finished their book? Raise your hand.”

  Half the employees lifted their hands with me. I looked across the break room and saw that Caleb’s hand remained on his lap. He snuck a fleeting look at me, then shrugged before Linda asked, “Okay, how many of you actually liked the book?”

  When three hands remained in the air, Linda prompted, “Great. Who wants to start off?”

  Nadine presented her paperback. “The Pale Hue, by Collette Devoirs. It’s about frustrated artist who hasn’t finished a painting since his wife’s death. One day, he finds a woman in alleyway who looks exactly like his dead wife. He nurses her back to health as she tries to regain her memory. Meanwhile, he gets his inspiration back and paints again. When the woman remembers she has husband and two children, she wants to go home. But the guy freaks out and holds her hostage. Eventually, she escapes, and the guy gets depressed, drinks paint thinner, and dies.”

  “Wow, Nadine, you’re one, big bundle of sunshine.” Linda turned to Alicia. “What about you? What did you read?”

  Alicia twitched, then sat straight. She wore loose-fitting clothes, along with that well-scrubbed modesty one would see in a trauma victim after a shower. All traces of femininity had been scraped off with a scouring pad, leaving nothing but a chaste and sanitized child. She didn’t even wear lip gloss.

  “The second book to Specter.” Alicia waited for the groans to die down before continuing. “Angie still tries to find out how Nicky died. Her parents are worried about her because she’s closing herself off from friends, and she’s apparently talking to herself. Angie soon discovers that Nicky isn’t really dead, but in a coma. She sets out to find the hospital where he’s held. When she tells Nicky’s parents what’s going on, she’s escorted from the property and her parents decide to commit her. But there’s something wrong with Nicky’s mother. She seems way too eager to pull the plug on Nicky’s respirator.”

  “So what happens to Nicky?” I asked.

  “His ghost still visits Angie in the mental ward, urging her to fight, and they plot to escape in time to save him. I’ll have to read the last book to find out what happens.”

  Linda nodded, then looked to me. “Sam, what did you read?”

  “Image, by Jodie Holcomb. It’s an urban fairy tale about a young girl named Holly who doesn’t think she’s beautiful. Her reflection disagrees and offers to trade places. The reflection goes out to see the world, and lives life to the fullest, not caring what people think, and her confidence makes her the object of everyone’s desire. Holly sees what she could have had through the mirror and wants to switch back. The reflection refuses to trade back and removes all the mirrors in her house. When she goes to a department store, Holly tries to break free through the mirrors in the dressing room. There’s a big fight and the mirrors break. Holly returns to the real world, but her face is all cracked and disfigured from the battle.”

  “She’s no better off than when she started,” Alicia disputed.

  I held her gaze, conveying my message directly to her. “But she now sees herself as beautiful, and she has more to live for.”

  When Alicia looked away, I addressed the group. “It’s a lesson on body image, but told in a creepy, Brothers Grimm sort of way.”

  “Interesting,” Linda muttered, glancing at her watch for the tenth time. “Well, let’s wrap this up. Pick a book and let’s get out of here.”

  The group agreed on Nadine’s book for some ungodly reason. After the meeting, I caught up with Alicia by the main entrance. She jumped when I touched her arm.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay?” I asked.

  She nodded, though it looked more like a tremor.

  “Alicia, I know it’s been kinda weird between us, but you have my number and you know where to find me, okay?”

  She nodded again, this time with a smile that seemed painful, and was even more so for me to watch. Her brows bunched together as if she w
as searching for reason, yet terrified of what she would find.

  Nadine met us by the doors. “Hey, Alicia, you okay?”

  She stared up at Nadine, her head tilted in thought as if recalling something from memory. Before she could respond, Alicia’s dad pulled up in front of the store, and she raced outside as soon as Linda unlocked the door.

  Nadine turned to me. “Is she all right?”

  “Yeah, she’s got a lot to think about: lost innocence, inner growth, life and death, back-to-school shopping. You know, the usual depressing issues.”

  “Childhood’s over the moment you know you’re going to die.” Nadine’s voice carried a low, uncommitted tone, the words of a jaded old woman.

  My head lifted to her face. “Another one of your poems?”

  “No. It’s from The Crow. Great movie.” She led the way to the parking lot. “You want to grab something to eat?”

  The question made me laugh out loud. “The one time you decide to hang out, I need to get home. Mom should be coming back from her speed date. I wanna know what happened.”

  She shook the sudden fog from her brain. “Your mother dates now? This is same woman who warned me about mail-order bride scams here in the U.S.?”

  “One in the same. I’ll let you know what happens.” I turned in the direction of my car.

  “Please do. Oh, hey!” she called after me. Closing the distance between us, she asked, “How are you and Caleb getting along?” She leaned in, waiting for me to dish out the dirt.

  As much as I wanted to lay it all on her, I had to honor Caleb’s request to keep quiet. My eyes wandered to him as he strolled two lanes down to his Jeep. He graced me with a smile that in closer proximity would have been lethal, but was now merely infectious.

  Choosing my words wisely, I said, “No one can ever call him boring, that’s for sure.”

  “I can’t believe it! I’ve never been so disgusted in all my life!” Mom raved, pacing back and forth in her bedroom.

  I sat on her bed, eating the carton of chocolate ice cream she had picked up on her way back from her debacle. The odds of her finding Mr. Right within a five-minute meeting were slim to none, but the night exceeded all disappointment when Mom bought junk food and popped Thelma and Louise in the DVD player. Mia sat next to me with a carton of butter pecan and a bag of popcorn. When I told her about Mom’s date, Mia had to get a front-row seat to the commentary.