As the door slammed behind her, I yelled, “Can I get that in writing?”
Jenny stood on wobbly legs and hobbled to the table, where she carefully slipped her tote bag onto her shoulder. “This is too much for me. I’ll call you later, Mama.”
“Wait, Jenny. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I hate this. I hate feeling this way, not being able to talk to you about anything. Look, there’s been enough emotional … stuff for one evening. Why don’t you just sit down and, you know, return to a normal color, and we’ll—” I stopped as I jostled the bag on Jenny’s arm and heard a clanking noise. “What the? What do you have in here, Jen?” I laughed as Jenny’s eyes grew wide. She clutched at the bag, setting off a series of jangling and clanking.
“What the hell do you have in here, Jenny?” I demanded, pulling at the bag.
“None of your business!” Jenny yelled. “It’s for a class I’m taking.”
I jerked the bag away from her and looked inside to find a set of porcelain baby cups engraved with our great-grandmother’s initials, a heavy silver pie plate, a brush-and-comb set carved from ivory, and several pieces of lace tatted sometime in the late 1900s. These items had been kept carefully displayed in rooms all over the house. The brush-and-comb set was taken from my own dresser. I stared up at my sister, my chest tight and cold at the shock of her betrayal. “You’re stealing from me? You went into my room and stole from me? Do you have any idea—I mean, I expect Grandma Ruthie to steal from me, but you? I never thought you’d actually sink that low.”
“I-it’s not stealing,” Jenny stammered. “I’m just taking a few things that have sentimental value for me. Some of them should be mine, anyway. Grandma Ruthie says—”
“Grandma Ruthie doesn’t live here. She doesn’t have any say over what leaves this house and what doesn’t. We just talked about this, Jenny!”
“I deserve part of my family heritage!” Jenny yelled. “You couldn’t possibly appreciate all that you have. And you don’t have children to pass it on to.”
“Oh, for goodness sake. You’re right, I can’t pass it along to my children. But guess what? I’m never going to die, which means I will always be around to take care of those precious antiques you’re so enamored of. It also means your kids will never inherit them. And if anything ever happens to me, I’m leaving everything to Zeb!”
“You wouldn’t!” Jenny gasped.
“Oh, yes, I would.” I laughed. “And Zeb never uses coasters.”
Jenny screeched, “Mama!”
“Now, girls—”
“Stop calling us girls, Mama. We’re grown women, and we have real, court-documented problems,” I said. “Will you just suck it up and pick a side, already? Tell Jenny that it’s wrong to steal from me.”
“You’re the one who won’t share!” Jenny yelled, punching my arm.
“Oh, please.” I slapped her shoulder and sent her skidding into the table.
“I will treat you like grown women when you act like grown women,” Mama said, her voice edging toward hysteria. “And I will not pick a side, because you’re both being ridiculous. Now, either kiss and make up or get out of my kitchen.”
“It’s actually my kitchen,” I reminded her before turning on Jenny. “You, however, should feel free to get out. You’re not welcome here anymore.”
Mama squeezed my shoulder. “Now, Jane—”
“What?” I demanded. “She’s lucky I’m not calling the cops on her skinny ass.”
“Oh, go ahead and try it.” Jenny pulled her now-empty bag onto her shoulder. “I’m sure the cops will be sympathetic to some deadbeat bloodsucker. They’d probably hand me the keys to the house.”
“Jenny,” Mama whispered, shocked at the use of an undead slur.
“Oh, stop it, Mama. stop protecting her. Why can’t we all just say it? Jane’s a filthy, disgusting vampire. She let herself get bitten. If I’d done that, you’d never speak to me again, but because it’s Jane, it’s OK. We all just have to accept it, act like it’s normal. But it’s not normal!”
“What kind of glue have you been sniffing?” I demanded. “What do you mean, accept it? When have you ever—”
“Shut up, Jane!” Jenny barked. “I don’t ever want to speak to you again. I don’t want you near my boys. I don’t want you coming to my house. If I see you out on the street, I’m going to pretend I don’t know you.”
Even as the words stung, I set my jaw and shoved open the back door. “Well, you should have had plenty of practice at that by now.”
Jenny stomped out to her sedan and fumbled with the keys.
“Here, you forgot this!” I yelled. With red-tinged vision, I hefted the silver pie plate off the table and slung it at the rear window of her car. She shrieked as the glass exploded, shattering with a satisfying symphony of crackles. “It’s all yours!”
I slammed the kitchen door, wincing as the silver burns smoked on my hands. At my parents’ horrified expressions, I felt slightly ashamed. I made a halfhearted wave toward the door. “She started it.”