“At least you won’t get Riley confused,” Dallas says.
“No, because Riley’s the cute one.”
There are a bunch of ‘oohs’, and Dallas laughs along with the others. I give Izzy a grateful look. Not only did she expertly deflect a comment about my gender, but I’ve noticed she’s avoided pronouns for me since we got here. It’s a little thing, and ‘she’ doesn’t always bother me at places like work, but the silent gesture of support in a place where my identity is ‘the daughter’ and ‘the sister’ really does help.
“What’s for supper?” Izzy asks. “I probably can’t eat more than a few bites, but I bet it tastes amazing.”
“Slow-cooked brisket and beans,” Jackson says, practically bouncing with excitement. “Fresh out of the crockpot.”
My mouth waters. Like most werewolves, I enjoy my meat raw sometimes, but part of that is because it’s hard to cook it as good as Mama does. Her brisket is like biting into heaven.
That’s when Mama, Papa, and Monty come in through the door behind us, with Monty carrying Izzy’s suitcase. “What are y’all doing out here?” Mama says when she notices the gathered crowd. “Get your tails in the kitchen and help Janie and Mel set the table. I won’t have them doing all the work for you boys. And you’re on cleanup afterwards.”
My brothers scurry back to the kitchen while Izzy looks at me. “Janie and Mel?”
“Sisters-in-law. Austin and Macon are married.” I take Izzy’s suitcase from Monty before she can snatch it for herself. “C’mon, sunshine. Let’s get set up in my room. Then we can come back for dinner and meet them.”
“Your parents seem pretty egalitarian,” Izzy says, obviously approving.
“Yeah. My brothers and I got the same chores as kids.” I lead Izzy out of the living room, heading down the hall to my old bedroom. Once the din from the kitchen fades, I exhale with relief. It’s not that I don’t love my family. I know I’m lucky to have them. I’m just more of an introvert than they are, and sometimes they can be overwhelming.
When I open the door to my room, I’m not surprised to see it hasn’t changed. I can tell from the smell of detergent that the sheets have been freshly laundered, and the nightstands and dresser have ben dusted, but otherwise, it doesn’t seem like anyone’s touched it since I left. It has the same furniture, the same pictures on the walls, even the same smell.
Izzy takes everything in. “This is where teenage Riley lived?”
“Not just teenage Riley.”
Izzy’s smile shows her fangs as she glances at a superhero poster. “Oh?”
“Knew coming here would be embarrassing,” I grumble.
I set Izzy’s suitcase at the foot of the bed, and she’s there to hug me when I turn around. “Seriously, though, how are you holding up?” she asks. “I know family can be stressful.”
I bend down to rest my forehead against hers, sighing deeply. “S’not their fault. My folks are great. I’m just different now than I was back then. I’ve learned more about myself. I met you.”
“I’m glad you did,” Izzy murmurs. “It’s okay, Riley. You’ve changed, and this place hasn’t.”
“That’s it. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised a vampire understands.”
“I’m only a new vampire. But yes, I understand. The longing to move forward, the yearning to go back. And family obligations.”
I kiss her adorably puffy hair, then take a seat on the edge of my bed. Izzy sits next to me, burrowing under my arm to cuddle against my side. “You’ve never told me much about your family,” I say after a while. “Just that your Mama’s still in Louisiana.”
“Other than her, I don’t have much family left to speak of. I’m not sure I would have been so eager to become a vampire otherwise. For a long time, Natasha and Elyse were my family. And sorceresses live for hundreds of years anyway.”
“You don’t regret it, do you? Making the Choice?”
Izzy sighs against my neck. “Not anymore. The state-mandated counseling helped. It’s supposed to weed out people who can’t handle the mental strain of immortality, but it also gives you strategies for coping. I went back after Natasha and I split. Ever heard of the hundred-year blues?”
“Can’t say I have.”
“New vampires usually hit a rough patch somewhere around their hundredth birthday. If they were human before and not a hybrid, most of their same-aged relatives and human friends have died off. Things are different, too. Technology changes, culture changes. The world you’re in isn’t your world anymore.”
“Which is why you do the work you do.”
“Mmhmm.” Izzy presses a kiss to my pulse point. It’s tender, not meant to turn me on, but I shudder a little anyway. “I had the fifty-year blues instead. That’s when the breakup happened. My Mama had a fall and moved into assisted living, which was a wake-up call for me. I realized time was going to pass me by, and I didn’t want to be left behind. I convinced Elyse to let me teach some classes.”
My heart swells up with all sorts of confusing feelings. There’s happiness, because despite Izzy’s bubbly, extroverted attitude, she takes a while to trust people with stuff this heavy. There’s bittersweetness as I think about what it would be like, staying the same as the world transforms around me. And there’s sadness as I realize—not for the first time logically, but the first time emotionally—that unless something changes, Izzy is going to outlive me by hundreds of years. I was just too damn glad to be around Izzy before to think about it for more than a few seconds at a time.
Of course, there is a way, if you decide you really want it, a voice in my mind says. Humans aren’t the only ones who can make the Choice.
“Izzy, can I ask a question without you freaking out?”
Izzy looks at me with a furrow in her brow. “Of course, Riley. You can ask me anything.”
“I’m not sayin’ now, because I know it’s way too soon, but what would you think if I—”
Before I can finish, there’s a knock on my door. Izzy lifts her head off my shoulder, and I flinch even though we aren’t doing anything embarrassing. “C’mon in.”
Monty peeks his head into the room. “Supper’s on,” he says, glancing between Izzy and me. It still feels like something’s off about him. Monty’s never been the most outgoing person, but I know my little brother. He’s worried, I can tell.
“Thanks, Monty,” I say out loud. Then I lean in, whispering beside Izzy’s ear. “Will you be okay with my family in the kitchen for a few minutes? I wanna talk to Monty.”
“Sure. I’m a big girl. I can handle a rowdy pack of wolves.”
“Then go on to supper. I’ll be there soon.”
With a kiss to my cheek, Izzy leaves the bedroom, giving Monty a friendly smile as she passes. As I expect, he slips into my room once she’s gone. His posture is slumped, nervous, the humanoid equivalent of a droopy tail and flattened ears.
I pat the space where Izzy was sitting on the bed. “C’mon, bud.”
He shuffles over and sits, his knee barely touching mine. “Riley, how’d you know you were gay?”
“Er, well…” Unfortunately, I don’t have much advice for the poor kid. I always knew I was drawn to girls, even if I didn’t understand the sexual attraction part of it ‘til after puberty. But Monty’s looking at me with big eyes, like he’s hoping I have all the answers. “I had a sense of it when I was a kid, I guess. Everyone at school was already calling me a lesbian anyway, so figuring it out wasn’t too hard. Why?”
“I think I might be,” Monty mumbles. “I don’t know. It hit all of a sudden and…”
I try not to panic. Come on, Riley. What would Colin say? He’s good at this stuff.
“People realize at different times, bud. Just ‘cuz I figured it out early doesn’t mean it’s the same for everyone.”
“I feel stupid, like I should’ve figured this out by now. I’m twenty, for fuck’s sake.”
I stifle a laugh. “You realize how young twenty is, right? Not to sound
condescending or nothin’, but that’s still pretty early. Some people don’t realize ‘til they’re Mama and Papa’s age or older.”
Monty sighs. “I don’t even know if I am, though.”
“Straight people usually don’t struggle too hard with the ‘am I gay’ question. Some might wonder a bit, especially if other kids at school are teasin’ ‘em, but they don’t pay it as much mind.” I grin and nudge his arm with my elbow. “Do you wanna kiss boys?”
He sputters, looking embarrassed. “Uh…”
“Then you’re probably not straight. Maybe you’re gay, maybe you’re bi, maybe something else. Doesn’t much matter. Either way, there’s a family out there for you. I know things are sparse ‘round here, but it’s different in the city. You meet all kinds of folks there.”
Monty relaxes a little. “That’s why I wanna go to New York City like you. Or even just Atlanta. Somewhere bigger.”
“Yup. It was right for me.” I pause, considering my options. “Hell, I’m still figuring things out about myself. I met a werewolf at the park a month back who’s nonbinary.” I wait for a look of recognition or understanding on Monty’s face, and when there isn’t one, I explain. “Some parts of being a girl feel right to me. Other parts, not so much. If you took some girl and a little bit of boy and a handful of something else and shook it all up in a Coke can, I guess that’s me. I’m just…me.”
He blinks, then nods. “So, you’re just figuring this out?”
“Well, some things from when I was a kid make a hell of a lot more sense, but yup. Just figuring it out.”
Monty gives me a nervous smile, but I can see a bit of hope in it. “So, if I wanna find out more about you being, uh, nonbinary…”
“I can send you some stuff online,” I tell him. “You don’t gotta treat me any different right now. It’s enough to know you know. And I’m glad you talked to me, bud. I don’t have all the answers for you, but I know you’ll find ‘em. And if you need a bunk in New York City, my apartment’s open.”
“You sure your girl won’t mind?” Monty says, a smirk playing ‘round his mouth.
I feel like I’ve gotten through to him. That’s the Monty I know. “Nah. Izzy’s a sweetheart and she’s got her own place. You won’t bother us none.”
“Thanks, Riley.”
Monty leans in, and I hug him, rubbing his back through his shirt. “Anytime, bud. Supper?”
“Yup. The smell’s callin’ me.” He takes a sniff of the air, and I do too, feeling the strong urge to lick my chops.
We hop off the bed and head down the hall, following our noses to the kitchen.
***
“Mama, that was delicious.” I lean back in my chair, folding my hands over my stomach. My belly’s so full I’d need to loosen my belt if I had one. I settle for unbuttoning my pants, giving Mama my best post-dinner smile.
“Don’t you be napping now,” Mama says, clicking her tongue. “Just ‘cause you don’t live here anymore doesn’t mean you get out of doin’ the dishes with your brothers.”
“M’not napping,” I mumble, although I do feel a mite sleepy if I’m being honest. “Just resting my eyes.”
Izzy gives my shoulder a soft squeeze. She’s sitting beside me, looking as content as I feel. “I’ve heard that song before. Get up and start moving before you doze off.” Then, as an aside to my Mama, “Thank you, ma’am. The bites I had and the juice from the crockpot tasted so delicious they made me regret my dietary choices.”
“Aw. You’re welcome, sugar. You sure you got enough to eat? There’s more bags of blood in the freezer we can warm up.”
“More than enough.” Izzy's hand curls around the back of my neck, playing with a few wisps of my hair. “Besides, I’ve got a mobile juice box right here if I need a snack.”
My brothers snicker at me from around the table, and I blush. “Izzy…”
“What? Your blood tastes better than store-bought and saves me on grocery bills.”
“Not really, ‘cause then you’ve gotta feed me real food to keep making blood.”
“You two are way too stinkin’ cute,” Austin says, his blue eyes dancing.
“Yeah, I know,” I say. “We’re hard to compete with.”
That gets a chuckle at Austin’s expense from his wife Janie, who’s sitting to his left. “She’s got you there, hon.”
“Just wait ‘til the kid’s born,” Austin says. “Then we’ll see who wins the cute competition in this family.”
I laugh. Janie’s pregnant with her and Austin’s first child, and it’s still a little bewildering to me that I’m gonna be an…Oh. Will I be an aunt? I’m not sure how I feel about that. It’s a pretty gendered term, but sometimes I don’t mind those all that much. It’s frustratingly inconsistent depending on the day. It might be something I need to figure out over time.
As always, Izzy’s there to take my mind off the confusing stuff. “Don’t make that face, mon chou. I’ll always think you’re the cutest.”
“Mon chou?” Dallas repeats, jeering from across the table. “What’s that mean?”
“Nothin’,” I mumble, but I know it’s too late.
“What’s it mean, Izzy?” Butler asks, obviously full of hope.
“It’s difficult to translate. The Parisian French term is longer and fancier, but in Louisiana French, it means something like…” Izzy takes a deep breath.
“Don’t you dare,” I warn her.
“…creampuff. Sometimes cabbage, even.”
The boys start cackling, and I hang my head in shame. I’m not really that upset, just a little embarrassed, which I’m sure Izzy can tell. She wouldn’t have said it otherwise. “Fine, have your laugh,” I grumble. “But you’re all creampuffs too when you have your monthlies.”
“That sounds adorable,” Izzy says. “I’m picturing a whole pack of fluffy golden retrievers running around, startling all the cows.”
“Takes a lot to startle these cows,” Papa says. “They’re around wolves all the time. They don’t scare easy.”
“Dumb as posts,” Macon agrees. “You can bark right in their face and they don’t bat an eye.”
“Macon and Mel have started working at the Richards’ farm,” Mama says. “You remember the Richards, right Riley?”
“Yes, Mama. How could I forget? There’s only five or six families ‘round these parts. Plus, the Castles.”
“The Castles?” Izzy asks, mildly confused.
There’s an assortment of growls from around the table.
“Castles. Hmph.”
“Good for nothing felines.”
“Now I’ve told you boys this a hundred times, but I’ll say it again,” Papa declares, “I don’t wanna see you taking up with no Castle girls.”
“Or boys,” I can’t resist adding, although I don’t look in Monty’s direction.
Papa looks a bit startled. “Or no Castle boys, I suppose. Y’all can do better, like your brothers and sister.”
Izzy leans over and whisper to me. “Castles?”
“Werecat family down the road,” I whisper back. “We’re kinda like the Hatfields and McCoys with less violence and more tail-chasing.”
“Riley Evans,” Izzy says, “are you telling me your family goes out and chases poor kitties every month?”
“Poor kitties my ass,” Papa grumbles. “They’re Florida panthers. They can take care of themselves.”
“James,” Mama says, a warning note in her voice, “don’t you start now.”
“Why don’t we get the dishes, Mama?” Jackson says, trying to make peace. There’s a bit more grumbling, but everyone stands up from the table and starts to carry their plates to the kitchen. I take Izzy’s before she can get it, and she only puts up a minor fuss before letting me go.
In the kitchen, Papa corners me next to the counter. “Izzy seems like a mighty fine girl, Riley,” he says, giving me a gentle slug on the shoulder.
I grin. “Glad you think so, ‘cause she is.”
; “Why don’t you take her for a drive around town? Show her the sights.”
“Sure, I guess? Not much to see other than the drug store and the McDonalds…”
Papa reaches into his pocket, tossing me the keys to his truck. “C’mon. Taking your lady for a drive in the country is a Southern tradition.” He glances over at my brothers, who have managed to splash more water than necessary out of the sink while rinsing their plates. “And I’m sure she could use a small break from this rabble before settling in.”
He has a point. Plus, I’m pretty touched by the gesture. I remember him giving the keys to my older brothers all the time for their dates when they were in high school. It was a rite of passage I never really got to participate in, aside from one or two not-so-great attempts with human girls before I learned to guard myself better. When I look into Papa’s eyes, I sense he knows what he’s offering. He’s being sweet, trying to help me make up a bit for lost opportunities.
I put the keys in my pocket. “Thanks, Pa.”
He pats my back. “Don’t be out all night. I know Izzy’s a vampire, but I’m sure the girl needs her sleep too.”
I doubt it, but I don’t say so. The thought of spending part of the night with Izzy under the stars is too appealing.
***
“I can’t decide whether this is creepy or beautiful,” Izzy says as we drive along the dirt road. It’s dark, but there’s not much of a view to speak of, just cow pastures and a few distant farmhouses. Even so, it puts me at peace. I’ve got the truck windows rolled down, and nighttime sounds carry above the noise of the engine and the tires churning in the dust.
“What do you mean, creepy? You’re a vampire. Not much can touch you.”
Izzy finds my hand on top of the gear shift. “I used to be human, though. A human who saw the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre when I was way too young.”
“None of that here.” I spread my fingers, and Izzy’s slide between them. “It’s boring out in the country.”
“I’ll take boring over Deliverance.”
After that, we’re quiet for a while. I’d gotten into the truck without a destination in mind, but now I know where I’m going. A few minutes later, we cross over the train tracks and into town. It’s not much—a single paved road with businesses on either side. There’s the library, closed of course. The barbershop. The Publix. Freddie’s Diner and Luanne’s BBQ Shack. They always have the best milkshakes.
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