Kiss Me When the Sun Goes Down (11 page)

“Sure,” I obliged, standing as far away from the stove as I could as I stirred, holding my breath against the cloying smell.  “How come you didn’t come out and say hello to Bishop?”

“I’ll greet him properly when I see him at the table.  I’ve only got ten minutes before dinner’s served.”

I glanced at the clock.  “You know that’s not set in stone, right?  No one will die of starvation if you serve it five minutes late.”  Especially with our crowd. 

“Anything worth doing is worth doing well, you know that.” 

I couldn’t argue with that, it’d been drummed into me since I could talk.  “Still, I wish you’d been there to smooth things over.  You know how Dad gets.”

“That’s only because you and your sister antagonize him.  Lord knows I never spoke to
my
father that way when I was younger.”

I bit my tongue to keep from retorting that maybe
that
was her problem.  I couldn’t change my mother, just like she couldn’t change me.  “Well, I hope you guys take it easy on Bishop, he’s a rookie at this meet the parents thing.”

“I peeped my head in and saw him for a moment.  My, he’s very hunky, Anja,” she said with a girlish giggle that made me smile.

“Great word, mom.  Yes, he is.” 

“You seem to attract them like flies.  Whatever happened to that other boy, Jake?”

Of course she liked Jakob, he’d paid off their house and given Dad a boat.  “He and I are definitely not going to happen, so please stop holding out any hope that he’ll get you a summer home.”

“Oh, Anja, the things you say,” she laughed, and I almost dropped the spoon.  It’d been months since I’d seen him, but I couldn’t help the pang that went through me as I thought about Rob.  It was already Christmas morning in Europe.  Was he still working for the Toulac, or was he home with Leila for the holiday?  Wherever he was, I hoped Santa brought him something good.  He deserved a little happiness his way. 

“Anja, the gravy!  We’ll have lumps!”

What about the lump in my throat?  I swallowed, resuming the stirring.  “I’m sure nobody will care, it’ll be just as tasty,” I replied, pushing those thoughts away.

“Are things serious with this one?”

It took me a second to realize she meant Bishop, my thoughts were so scattered.  “I think they could be, yes.”

“You’re still so young, I hope you aren’t rushing into anything.”

“I can promise you that’s the exact opposite of what I’m doing with Bishop.”

“Why, what’s wrong with him?”

“There’s nothing wrong with him, I just...  I want to be sure.”

“That sounds like you have doubts.  When I met your father, I should’ve paid attention to mine.”

“Mom!” I hissed.  Did she even hear the words coming out of her mouth? 

“Don’t worry, he can’t hear us in here.  His hearing’s the second thing to go since he turned fifty,” she giggled again.

There was something off about her, between the giggling laughter and calling Bishop hunky, and now this new revelation.  There was a half filled wineglass on the counter – had she been at the wine already? 

“I married the first boy who I slept with, did you know that?”

I reached for the glass on the counter and took a big sip.  “I’m kinda wishing I didn’t know it now.”

“I should’ve done more first.  I should’ve gone backpacking in South America.  I should’ve learned to speak French.  I should’ve hung out with the hunky boys in the lower quad.”

“You can still do those things, if you think they’ll make you happy.  You’re not too old.”  She was still in her forties.  “Except for the hunky boys thing.”

“No, that part of my life is over now, I missed my chance.  That’s all I’m saying, Anja.  You don’t have to rush into anything just because a boy asks.  Especially the good looking ones, those are the most dangerous ones of all.  Bishop looks like the type that will break your heart.”

“Bishop is very sweet and he makes me happy.  Whether you approve of him or not, I happen to love him.  Can’t that be good enough?”

“Why do you say it like that?  All we ever wanted was for you to be happy.  And you look... just as you should be,” she smiled, picking up the platter of carved turkey.  “Now help me bring the food to the table.”

W
e gathered around the table, busy with the business of doling out food.  I stuck to the starchy foods again, taking one slice of turkey to be polite, but I’d rather chew on uncured leather than eat it.  Mostly, I pushed my food around the plate and hoped no one would notice.  No such luck.

“Eat something, Anja,” Dad nagged.  “Your mother went through all this trouble.”

“I am, I’m making it last.”

Hanna decided to champion for brownie points.  “It’s really good, Mom.  I’m totally taking home leftovers.”

“Especially these mashed potatoes, Mrs. E,” Mason chimed in, his cheeks packed like a chipmunk.  How could he stand to eat so much?  I had a hard enough time choking back a bite or two.  I decided he must really love my sister to put on such a show for her benefit.

“You’re not eating much either, Bishop,” my mom pointed out, not quite sounding offended, but maybe slightly hurt.  “Is it not to your tastes?”

“Oh, no, that’s not it, Mrs. Evans.  I had a late lunch at my parents’ house.  I tried to resist, but you know how it is.”  Bishop offered her the right amount of chagrin to be believable. 

“Yes, I hate how some parents can be so pushy,” Mom nodded, and I almost choked on my wine.  “What do your parents do?”

My eyes widened, wondering if he had something planned to say, after all, he’d been the one to bring up having parents in the first place. 

“My father’s an investment banker up in Sacramento, and my mother, well, she’s a bit old fashioned.  She’s never worked a day in her life.  Outside the home, that is.  I know she puts in a full day keeping house.” 

“Traditional values.” My father nodded in approval, raising his glass to no one in particular before taking a drink.  “Few and far between these days.”

“Those are the only ones worth having,” Bishop replied with a sober nod, and I stared at him.  When did he learn how to be every parent’s dream?  What the heck had he been so nervous about?  Granted, he was laying it on kind of thick, but that was understandable. 

“Oh, I dunno, I’m all for modern values, myself,” Mason chimed in, enjoying the spectacle of Bishop playing nice for once.

“Same here,” Hanna agreed.  “In fact, we have an announcement to make.” 

“Oh Hanna, honey, you’re not going to be moving in with that boy again, are you?”  Mom’s brow crinkled in disappointment, but Hanna’s smile didn’t dim. 

“No, actually.  We decided to do something a little crazier.”  Mason’s brows waggled at me, and all of a sudden, I knew what was coming. 

“We’re getting married!” Hanna crowed, holding up her glass in a toast, which Mason returned with a clink of his glass. 

As soon as I could move again, I looked at Bishop, wanting to see if he had any inkling this was in the works, but he seemed as stunned as I was.  I’d known things were back on track between Mason and my sister, but I’d had no idea they’d progressed so far. 

“Now see here...” my father started to say, but Hanna shut him down before any of us had a chance to throw out a compulsion.

“Oh, put a cork in it, Daddy.  This isn’t about you or Mom, this is about what I want, and Mason is definitely what I want.”

“But we’d still like your blessing if at all possible,” Mason added with a touch of humble pie. 

We all waited to hear what snotty thing my father would say next, but he merely leaned back in his chair, looking tired.  “The world is slipping away from me,” he murmured, taking off his glasses and rubbing at his eyes.

“We’re not slipping away from you, Pop,” Hanna said, getting up to wrap her arms around him in a hug.  “We’re growing up.  It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“I’m all for later,” he grumbled, but there was a smile beneath the bluster as he hugged her back. 

“My Hanna is getting married!” Mom clapped her hands together in excitement.  “I think this calls for champagne!”

There was a whirlwind of activity then, the rest of dinner much more animated as wedding plans were discussed and the champagne flowed freely.  My mom seemed happy about it, but that could’ve been the wine that made her so bubbly.  Dad continued to grouse, but I think he was coming around, or he would’ve retreated to his study in a pout.  Mason and Hanna were blissfully happy, and that kind of enthusiasm was hard to ignore. 

Dishes were left to soak, and we gathered down in the music room, as we tended to do at family gatherings.  I expected Bishop to be fairly uncomfortable with that portion of the evening, but he surprised me by sitting at the piano to accompany us through some Christmas standards like
Deck the Halls
and
Little Drummer Boy
.  I sang
O Holy Night
by Dad’s request, and Mason and Hanna teamed up for a fairly silly version of
Twelve Days of Christmas
.  We all managed a fairly decent rendition of
Carol of the Bells
, though I don’t think Bishop sang along to any of them.  It was probably the most at home I’d felt since long before I’d become a vampire.

Bishop stayed at the piano even after singing time was over, continuing to play in the background.  I think he was far more comfortable there, than listening to Dad grill Mason about how he intended to support my sister and their eventual children.  Of course, no one bothered to point out that she wouldn’t be having any children either, that would be a subject to tackle another day.  If it bothered Hanna to think of a life without kids, she gave no sign of it, over the moon with the future by all appearances. 

My head came up as I recognized what Bishop played next –
Anja’s Song
.  I left Hanna and my mom talking about flowers to come and stand by the piano, entranced as it morphed from the song I already knew to something different.  “What happened to it?” I asked as the melody became something new. 

“This is my version of
Anja’s Song
, if I had to make something just for you.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“So is its muse,” he smiled back.  The song became more plaintive, touching a minor key, and I could almost see my story unfolding before me, like a ballet.  Every fear and misstep, the dangers, the sorrow.  He wove a story for us; heavy, bold notes that could only represent Jakob smashing his way through my life, and then he’d turn it into something hopeful, light and romantic – and I knew that was us, him and me – our love turned into a ballad. 

By the time he finished playing, the entire family had gathered around, and my father practically twitched with excitement.  “I’ve never heard that composition before.  What is it?”

“Something inspired by your daughter,” Bishop replied, picking up my hand and kissing the back of it. 

“Son, I could make some calls. I know a lot of people.  If you’re interested in...”

Bishop shut him down before he worked himself up too much.  “Thank you, but no.  I only play for friends.”  I think there must’ve been a touch of compulsion there, because my dad didn’t easily let go of a bone like that once it caught his interest, but this time he backed off at once.   

“Well, it was lovely.  I can’t think of when I’ve heard something so beautiful,” Mom smiled, and Dad put his arm around her in a rare gesture of affection.  We were not a hugging family, in general, but it had turned into quite a sentimental night.

Though it was still early by vampire standards, we started making sounds about heading on our way soon after that.  It still took us another half hour to get out of there, Hanna and Mason laden with Tupperware containers full of leftover food, me with a tiny treble clef charm on a delicate gold chain, and Bishop with a sweater that definitely wouldn’t fit him.  All in all, it hadn’t gone too badly.  My parents seemed to genuinely like Bishop, most of it based on more truth than lies.  That was all I could ask for. 

“You guys want to go get a drink?” Bishop pitched as soon as we hit the curb, but Mason shook his head, green around the gills.

“No thanks.  I think I have a date with the porcelain god.”

“I told you not to eat so much,” Hanna scolded him lightly.

“I know, but I wanted your mom to like me.”

“She already does like you, you big dork.”  She shook her head.  “I’d better get him home.  But we’ll talk soon, right?  We still have to go dress shopping for the New Year’s bash.”

“Yep, call me the day after tomorrow, we’ll hit the after Christmas sales,” I promised, forcing some cheer.  Just because I had my doubts about Hanna entering into that world didn’t mean I wanted to spoil her excitement over it. 

Bishop turned to me.  “How about you?  Do you want to go back to my place for a drink?”

I wanted to say yes in the worst way, but I knew exactly where it would lead.  “How about we go to my place instead?” I suggested.  At least there we’d have a few chaperones to keep us on track.

“Sure,” he agreed equably, holding the door open for me as I climbed into his SUV.  Only when we got there, he held back at the front porch.  “Wait, before we go inside, there’s something I wanted to give you.”

“Oh, are we doing presents now?  Yours is inside.”  But still, he resisted my tug of his hand.  “You don’t want to come in and give it to me?”

“No, not yet.  It’s more appropriate that I give you this out here.”  He wouldn’t say more until we stood out on the garden path. 

“Now you’ve got me curious,” I admitted, trying to puzzle out what it could be.  Whatever it was, he had it on him, so it had to be small.

“Curious is good,” he smiled, reaching into his coat pocket to draw out a velvet box.  “I thought about what to give you, and I realized that maybe it was my turn for a grand, romantic gesture.”  He opened the box, and holy buckets, inside was what sure looked like an engagement ring. 

It took me a few seconds to remember how to breathe again.  “Bishop... I thought we said we were going to take things slow.”  That’s what slipped out, but inside I was jumping up and down screaming,
YES!