Jane Goes Batty

by Michael Thomas Ford

“A gin and tonic would do wonders for this headache,” Miriam called as Jane went downstairs. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

  “Not at all,” Jane called back.

  In the kitchen Byron was standing by the sink, the broken part of his fang in his hand. “Do you think I can get it fixed?” he asked, holding the broken bit to the jagged stump in his mouth.

  “Maybe if we can find a good vampire dentist,” Jane said. “Or you could file it down.”

  “And be lopsided?” said Byron.

  “Why not?” Jane said. “It will match your limp.”

  “Not funny,” said Byron, putting the piece of fang in his pocket.

  “I’m just teasing,” Jane said as she opened the refrigerator and scouted around for the ingredients for Miriam’s sandwich.

  “How’s the killer?” Byron asked her.

  “Awake,” said Jane. “And she’s made me a most interesting proposition.”

  As she made Miriam’s sandwich she told Byron what the two of them had agreed to. “So, can I get pregnant?” she asked as she slathered mustard on the corned beef.

  “I really don’t know,” admitted Byron. “I suppose we’ll find out.”

  “What if the baby is a vampire?” Jane said. “Apart from the teething issue, what would it be like? We stop aging when we’re turned, so would it always be a newborn? Would it grow to a certain age and then stop?”

  “A vampire embryo,” said Byron. “What a hideous thought.”

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t think about all of this when you turned Charlotte,” Jane said. “You must have.”

  “I didn’t think about much, really,” admitted Byron. “I assumed it would all work itself out somehow. And you know what?”

  Jane turned to him. “What?” she said.

  Byron smiled. “It will.”

  “I’ll remind you of that when the baby turns into a bat and flies away,” Jane said. “Which reminds me. You promised to show me how to do that. I think I’ve proved myself worthy of knowing the secret now, don’t you?”

  “I do,” said Byron. “Unfortunately, it’s not possible.”

  “What do you mean?” Jane asked. “You mean you won’t tell me? After everything we’ve been through?”

  “I would tell you if I could,” said Byron. “I mean that we can’t turn into bats. I lied.”

  “Lied?” Jane said. “Why?”

  Byron shrugged. “You needed incentive,” he said. “I thought if I told you that you could turn into a bat you would be more interested in your studies.”

  Jane shook her head. “You insufferable man,” she said. She thrust the plate with the sandwich on it at Byron. “Just for that you get to take this up to her.”

  Byron held up his hands, refusing to take the plate. “I’m not going near her,” he said. “She scares me.”

  “She’s going to scare you even more when I tell her that you’re going to be her grandbaby’s godfather. Now go make nice.”

  Byron took the plate, gave Jane a wounded look, and stomped out. He was halfway up the stairs before Jane remembered the gin and tonic. Rather than call him back, she decided to make it herself.

  She was adding a twist of lemon when someone knocked on the door. Wondering who could be calling at such a late hour, she peered through the peephole, afraid that she might find the police or Charlotte standing there.

  “Walter?” she said when she saw him standing on the porch. “What on earth?” She opened the door.

  “I know it’s late,” Walter said. “But I saw your lights on and I know you stay up late sometimes and—”

  “Come in,” Jane told him.

  Only when Walter was inside did she remember that his mother was upstairs in her guest room.

  “I want to talk to you about my mother,” Walter said.

  “What about her?” Jane asked, keeping her eye on the stairs in case Byron made an appearance. She hoped Miriam would keep quiet long enough for her to get rid of Walter.

  “She’d kill me if she knew I was here,” Walter said. “I had to wait for her to fall asleep before I snuck out of the house.” He chuckled. “I swear, she makes me feel like I’m fifteen years old.”

  “Well, you’ll always be her little boy,” said Jane.

  Walter nodded. “You’re right,” he said. “I will. But I don’t have to act like her little boy.”

  “What do you mean?” Jane asked.

  Walter reached into the pocket of his jacket and took out a box. Getting down on one knee, he said, “I know we’ve been back and forth and up and down and all around this issue. I’ve been afraid of my mother and you’ve been afraid of, well, whatever it is you’re afraid of. But Jane, the only thing that matters is that I love you and you love me. Nothing else is important. Just love.” He took a deep breath. “So, Jane Fairfax, I’m asking you one last time. Will you marry me?”

  Jane heard a noise. Glancing up the stairs, she saw Byron and Miriam huddled together at the top. Byron had one hand over Miriam’s mouth and the other over his own. They were both staring wide-eyed at the scene below.

  “Jane?”

  Walter’s voice brought Jane’s attention back to the moment. She looked into his eyes and saw the air shimmering around him.

  “Yes, Walter Fletcher,” she said. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  “IT’S CERTAINLY BEEN AN EVENTFUL COUPLE OF WEEKS.”

  Jane accepted the glass of wine Lucy was holding out to her. They were standing on Jane’s deck, looking out at a yard teeming with people. It was early evening, the air was warm, and Jane was reminded of the summers in the English countryside.

  “This is how it all started,” said Lucy, leaning against the railing of the deck. “With a barbecue.”

  “Well, it started a bit before that,” Jane began. Then she saw the smile on Lucy’s face. “You mean you and Ben,” she said.

  “Are you surprised that he and I got together?” asked Lucy.

  Jane thought about telling Lucy how she’d seen the sparks flying between her and Ben that night. But she decided not to. That particular talent was one it was probably best to keep secret. You never know when it will come in handy, she told herself.

  “Delightfully surprised,” she said in answer to Lucy’s question. “I think you make a lovely couple.”

  Lucy sighed happily. “As do you and Walter,” she said. “Show me the ring again.”

  Jane held out her left hand. On the ring finger was a small but flawless diamond in a beautiful antique setting. Lucy held Jane’s hand, admiring the ring for a moment. “And you say it belonged to Walter’s great-grandmother?” she said.

  Jane nodded. “Calpernia Higgenbotham,” she said. “Apparently her husband, Hector, saved his earnings from his job as a newspaper copy boy for a whole year to buy it for her. Calpernia’s family came from money, and her father objected to Hector because he wasn’t wealthy. But he was so impressed by Hector’s perseverance that he gave his blessing to their engagement. He also bought the newspaper at which Hector worked and made him an editor, so everything worked out splendidly.”

  Lucy looked at Jane and a mischievous twinkle filled her eyes. “Miriam must be beside herself,” she said.

  Jane looked around for Walter’s mother. Miriam was seated in a chair beneath one of the old elm trees. Lilith was on her lap and Miriam was having an animated discussion with Sherman Applebaum, whose hands moved about gracefully as he spoke.

  “I thought she was going to have a stroke when she saw me wearing it,” Jane said, causing both her and Lucy to laugh happily.

  “What’s so funny?”

  Walter and Ben emerged from the house, each with a beer in one hand. Walter stood beside Jane, while Ben put his arm around Lucy. She leaned her head on his shoulder.

  “Everything is funny,” Jane said. “Just look around.”

  “It is a pretty odd group we’ve got here,” Walter admitted.

  Jane nodded. “Perhaps,” she said. “But we have so much to cel
ebrate—our engagement, the end of the film shoot, good friends.”

  “Jessica’s murder,” Walter added.

  “I don’t know if that’s something to celebrate, exactly,” Jane said.

  “You did get Kelly back because of it,” Lucy reminded Jane.

  Apart from becoming engaged to Walter, this was indeed the best thing to happen to Jane since the beginning of the summer. As it turned out, Kelly was not as happy being an agent as he had been being an editor. Upon Jessica’s untimely retirement he had been offered his old job back and had taken it.

  Jane feigned shock. “You are all positively ghoulish,” she said. “As if I could possibly take any enjoyment from the misfortunes of others.”

  “We’re sorry,” Lucy said softly. A second later she added, “But Jessica really was kind of a bitch.”

  Jane pressed her lips together, fighting a smile. It was wicked of her, she knew, but she couldn’t help feeling some small measure of relief that someone as awful as Jessica Abernathy was no longer in the world. She had no literary taste, she thought. Besides, it’s not as if she’s going to hear us and have her feelings hurt.

  Her thoughts were interrupted as a camera was thrust into her face.

  “Ant!” Shelby said. “Enough already!”

  “I just want to get some footage of the wrap party,” he said. He turned to Jane. “How was the experience of seeing your book turned into a movie?” he asked.

  “I didn’t actually see much of it at all,” Jane said. “They really didn’t need me for anything.”

  “Are you excited about seeing how it turns out?”

  “I’m aquiver with joyous anticipation,” Jane said.

  Ant lowered the camera and turned it off. He sighed. “You’re still boring,” he said, shaking his head. “Never mind. I’ll go talk to some of the actors.”

  “Sorry about that,” said Shelby as her brother walked away.

  “I’ve told you a dozen times, there’s no need to apologize for him,” Jane told the girl. “He’s not your responsibility.”

  “I know,” Shelby said. “It’s just a habit.”

  “Maybe it’s a habit you need to break,” said Lucy. “Do you even like doing this kind of work?” she went on.

  Shelby shook her head. “No,” she said. “It’s really boring. If Ant didn’t need me, I wouldn’t do it at all.”

  “Then stop,” Lucy said.

  “And do what?” said Shelby. “This is all I’ve done since I got out of school.”

  Lucy glanced over at Jane and a silent word passed between them. Jane nodded.

  “Come work for us,” Lucy said. “At Flyleaf. You know, until you decide what it is you really want to do.”

  Shelby looked at Jane. “Really?” she said.

  “She’s the manager,” said Jane. “What she says goes.”

  “I don’t know,” Shelby said.

  “Why?” asked Jane. “Because it’s so much fun taking care of Simple Simon over there? You need to take care of you. And believe me, when an opportunity for happiness comes along, you take it.” She patted Walter’s hand, and he wrapped his fingers around hers.

  Shelby shrugged. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll do it.” She laughed. “This is totally crazy. Ant’s going to freak.” She looked at Lucy again. “You’re really sure?”

  “Ask one more time and you’re fired,” Lucy said. “Now go tell your brother he’s going to have to find someone else to hold his stick.”

  “His boom,” said Ben quickly. “She meant hold his boom.”

  Shelby ran off in the direction of her brother, who was annoying several of the cast of Constance by trying to film them while they were eating. A moment later Byron appeared.

  “Hello,” he said gaily. “Did you all miss me?”

  “Were you gone?” Jane asked.

  Byron kissed her on the cheek. Then he looked at Walter. “I suppose I’d better kiss you as well,” he said, and did. “I don’t want you to think I’m after your woman.”

  “I’m not his woman,” said Jane. “Honestly, how primitive.”

  Walter pulled her close. “But you are,” he said. “You’re my woman, and no one’s going to take you away from me, no matter how good-looking he is or how nice his accent is.”

  “You think I’m good-looking?” Byron said, lifting an eyebrow.

  “Fine,” said Jane. “I’m your woman.”

  Walter kissed her neck. “And you love it,” he said.

  “This reminds me,” Byron said. “Are Ted and Ned about?”

  “Ned is over there,” said Lucy, nodding in the direction of the picnic tables. “He’s talking to Chloe. Actually, I think they’re more making out than talking.”

  Everyone looked at the two young people, who were kissing each other and laughing, oblivious to the fact that they had an audience.

  “That’s a paparazzo’s dream,” Ben remarked.

  “What do you mean?” asked Jane.

  “Are you kidding?” said the rabbi. “The gossip magazines would kill for a photo of Chloe kissing a guy. Ned there would be the envy of people all over the world. Everybody would want to know who he is.”

  Jane, Byron, and Lucy exchanged glances. How Chloe was going to manage being a vampire and a pop star/actress was something they had yet to discuss with her. But she at least had experience with Hollywood and its ways. Ned didn’t. Jane couldn’t imagine what might happen if he suddenly found himself the center of attention. Questions would be asked. People would want to know everything about him. It could be a disaster.

  “We’ll have to have a little chat with Mr. Hawthorne,” Byron whispered to Jane. “Soon.”

  Jane decided not to worry about it. I’m too happy, she thought. Whatever happened with Chloe and Ned could be dealt with when it happened.

  So when are you going to tell Walter about yourself? The question came to her unbidden, as if someone else had asked it. Jane tried to ignore it, but it came back like a persistent fly. When are you going to tell him?

  “I don’t know!” she said.

  “Don’t know what?” asked Walter.

  Jane realized that she had spoken aloud and that everyone was looking at her, waiting for an answer. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought someone asked where Sarah was.”

  Walter looked at her. “No,” he said. “Anyway, we know where she is. She’s over there playing with Jasper.”

  “Of course she is,” Jane said. “Would anyone like another drink?” She looked at Lucy and furrowed her brow.

  “I would,” said Lucy, draining her wineglass in one long gulp.

  “We’ll be right back,” said Jane as she and Lucy went into the house.

  “What was that?” Lucy asked when they were safely in the kitchen.

  Jane put her hand to her forehead. “I was thinking about Walter,” she explained. “How am I going to tell him?”

  “Tell him?” said Lucy. “Oh,” she added a moment later. “You mean about …” She thrust her upper incisors out and made sucking sounds.

  “Charming,” Jane said.

  “Sorry,” said Lucy. “We watched Dracula with Sarah last night.”

  “She wasn’t scared?” Jane asked.

  Lucy shook her head. “She thinks monsters are neat,” she said. “I thought she was going to cry when Dracula was killed at the end.”

  “What an interesting child,” said Jane. “I look forward to knowing more about her.”

  “So do I,” Lucy said. “Now what about Walter? What are you going to do?” When Jane didn’t answer right away she added, “You’re not going to break up with him again, are you?”

  “No,” said Jane. “At least I don’t think I am.”

  “Jane!” Lucy said sternly.

  “All right, I’m not,” said Jane.

  “Promise,” ordered Lucy.

  “I promise,” Jane said.

  “Cross your heart and hope to die?” Lucy asked.

  Jane made a face. “Not much chanc
e of that, is there?”

  Lucy ignored her. “Now listen to me. You are going to stay engaged to Walter. You are going to marry Walter. I am going to be your maid of honor, and if I have to, I’m going to drag you down the aisle by your feet.”

  “You’re going to be my maid of honor?” Jane said.

  “Oh,” Lucy said. “Did I say that? I didn’t mean to—”

  “But you would be?” said Jane. “If it comes to that?”

  “Are you asking me to?” Lucy said.

  Jane nodded. Lucy nodded. They both burst into tears and hugged each other. “There’s so much to do,” Lucy said between happy sobs. “We need to make a list. Have you thought about flowers?”

  Jane laughed. “I think we have time,” she said as she wiped her eyes. “We haven’t even set a date. Anyway, there’s still the tiny matter of my having to tell him I’m a …” She imitated Lucy’s earlier imitation of a vampire.

  “More important, what kind of dress do you want?” said Lucy.

  Jane hesitated. “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe something with an Empire waist?”

  Lucy wrinkled her nose. “We’ll look at magazines,” she said. “And don’t worry about Walter right now. We’ll figure something out.”

  “Maybe I should tell Ben,” Jane suggested. “Then he can tell Walter. I imagine he’s very good at that sort of thing, being a rabbi.”

  Lucy’s face brightened. “Ben can marry you!” she exclaimed.

  “I think he’d probably rather marry you,” said Jane.

  “I mean you and Walter,” Lucy said. “Ben can perform your ceremony.”

  Jane leaned against the counter. “This is all coming together rather quickly,” she said. “This morning it was all very vague in a we’ll-get-married-one-of-these-years way. Now we’re talking about flowers and dresses and rabbis.”

  “You are going to be such a bridezilla,” said Lucy.

  “A what?” Jane asked.

  “A nightmare,” said Lucy. “Now snap out of it. Today is supposed to be a celebration. You can fret later.”

  “That’s very easy for you to say,” Jane reminded her. “Let’s see how composed you are when Ben asks for your hand.”

  Lucy picked up a bottle of wine and refilled their glasses. “It’s going to be fine,” she told Jane as she handed her a glass. “Trust me. We’ll get you through this.”