“Well, after going through the female and male break-up recovery rituals, I can determine that, one, I’m going to be OK. And two, the male break-up ritual is more fun but harder to heal up from. I’m fine, really. I’m just keeping busy and trying not to think about it.”
“I can haunt Gabriel’s house for you, if you’d like,” Mr. Wainwright offered.
“Thank you, that’s very sweet, but I don’t think you can really scare someone after you’ve spent Christmas Eve with them. Unless you’re my grandma Ruthie.”
Mr. Wainwright chuckled. I rummaged through the drawers behind the bar and then got on my hands and knees, searching for the tiny canister of vampire mace. It had obviously been detached from my keyring at some point, and it didn’t show up in a thorough postfight search of my purse and house. And it wasn’t the sort of thing I wanted lying around the shop.
“Mr. Wainwright, have you seen a little metal tube, about the size of a Chapstick?” I asked, lifting a chaise longue with one hand to search under it. Mr. Wainwright, who was always entertained by my feats of vampire strength, shook his head. “Great. Either I’m going to have to wait for Fitz to pass it or pray I don’t step on it and mace myself.”
The front bell rang, and Zeb walked into the shop, pale and shaking. Wordlessly, he walked to the coffee bar and climbed onto a stool.
I snapped my fingers in front of his face. “Zeb, are you OK? What’s wrong? Is it Jolene? Is the baby OK? Did one of Jolene’s relatives get trapped by the Department of Fish and Wildlife? Did the police find your dad’s still? What?”
“Two of them,” he said, his eyes oddly dilated.
“One of Jolene’s relatives was trapped by the Department of Fish and Wildlife and the police found your dad’s still? What are the odds of that?” I wondered.
He snapped out of his funk long enough to look annoyed with me. “No, two of them, on the ultrasound. There’s two babies.”
“Twins?” I laughed. “But that’s great! And considering the number of multiple births in Jolene’s family, not entirely unexpected.”
“Congratulations!” Mr. Wainwright cried, and then he caught sight of Zeb’s stricken expression. “I’ll be going now.”
Zeb scrubbed his hand over his face as Mr. Wainwright faded out of sight. “I was prepared for one baby. I don’t know if I can handle two.”
“It’s a little late for that. There’s a very strict no-return policy on babies.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Jane.”
“Well, what do you want me to do? Take one off your hands? There’s not much I can do, except pay someone else to babysit. Are they boys or girls?” I asked.
“Don’t know yet; it’s too early to tell. To be honest, I didn’t catch much after ‘two heartbeats.’ One of them was doing a sort of Homer Simpson shimmy. I’m guessing that’s the one that takes after me.”
“Look at it this way: you’re lucky it’s not triplets or quadruplets.”
That seemed to cheer him.
“If you keep going, you can form your own basketball team,” I suggested. He furrowed his brow and frowned at me. “Too soon?” He nodded. “I’ll fix you some herbal tea. It’s soothing,” I said, patting his hand. “How’s Jolene? Is she craving pickles and ice cream yet?”
Zeb groaned. “If only. It’s more like Canadian bacon and ice cream. Peanut butter and turkey sandwiches. Tuna noodle pie. She actually made what she called ‘bacon chip cookies’ the other day—a chocolate-chip cookie recipe with bacon pieces instead of chocolate chips. She said it’s her body’s way of getting as much protein as possible for the babies, but I swear if I see her eat one more of those pies, I’m going to yark.”
“Well, the good news, is whenever I regret not being able to eat, I’ll call those images to mind. I’ll never want solid food again.” I shuddered, rubbing my stomach.
Zeb perked up as he said, “By the way, I got a call from the reunion committee today. They wanted some pictures of you for the memorial wall.”
“But I’m not dead!”
Zeb smirked. “Well, that’s not the way the committee sees it.”
“That’s it. I’m not going to this thing.”
“Oh, come on,” he said, accepting a cup of chamomile. “You’ve got to go to the reunion. It’ll be fun! You can scare the crap out of all our former classmates.”
“It will be fun for you. You’re married to a beautiful woman who adores you to the point that she’ll probably maul the first doofus who tries to give you a commemorative wedgie. And she’ll be pregnant, so everyone will know you’ve had sex with her. I, however, will most likely be going solo which will probably just cement all those lesbian rumors. Oh, wait, dead lesbian rumors.”
“So, you haven’t made up with Gabriel yet, huh?”
I shook my head. Cindy the Goth Good-Luck Charm walked through the door, acknowledged me with a nod, and headed for the graphic novels. “You know, I used to be alone, and I got along just fine. It’s simpler this way. Less messy, less complicated. Less time wondering what the hell is going on in my own life and whether it’s my fault. At least, this way, I know it’s my fault.”