Heath debates on paying the movers and sending them away to move things himself, but doesn’t want to risk the cat escaping the bag this early on by carrying in her queen sized bed single-handedly. Of course he plans on telling Rose– a secret of such proportion can’t be kept under wraps forever. His reasoning for postponing is she just lost someone dear to her and he doesn’t wish to rock her world anymore than it already has been.
The only thing he knows about dhampirs is that their powers happen during puberty. So, she must have her secrets, too, or will soon.
Rose brought a cat with her; a fluffy white Siberian with dark facial markings that gets car sick. It’s why she said she had to sit in the back of the car, but Heath thinks it’s really because she doesn’t trust him yet.
When they arrive, the cat lets out the sound of a lawnmower and dashes down the hallway. Rose laughs, and it’s the first time he’s seen her smile, and he’s happy for that.
She enters her spacious new bedroom and looks around in awe. He gave her the guest room, which is the entirety of the third floor with a balcony. Her weak “thanks” has a swell of pride forming in his chest. His first favor to her out of many; he knows his absence from her life was immoral, even with his own justifications. Now, he wants to make it up to her. He yearns to be the father figure he never had, so in rescuing her from being bounced around the foster system, he has the opportunity to fulfill a fantasy of his own. He hopes this dream doesn’t prove to be counterproductive to the goal of making her as comfortable as possible, but rather, a bonus benefit.
Ding dong!
“Fuck,” he grumbles, eyes flicking to Rose behind his sunglasses. Her eyebrows are raised, but otherwise, she isn’t too shocked by the swear. Is fourteen old enough to hear swears from adults? He makes a mental note to try to cuss less, at least in front of her.
“Stay here.”
Once he reaches the bottom, he opens the door to see Mrs. Obi. She’s an African American woman whose favorite color is bright, fluorescent yellow. He also hears movement behind him, letting him know his daughter isn't too keen on following instructions. Mrs. Obi is in a yellow sundress with a floppy sun hat with a golden ribbon tied in the middle. She smiles at him kindly.
“We haven’t seen you in awhile, Heath! How’ve you been?”
“Good, but I’m a bit busy. I don’t mean to brush you off, I’m just…busy,” he says, mentally kicking himself for not having a better excuse. Busy could mean a million things, and the Obis didn’t like room for guessing.
“Is someone living with you now?” she asks, curiosity aflame. “I don’t mean to be nosy but we all saw the truck.”
Mrs. Obi is the definition of nosy. He hadn’t checked his mail, but while he’s away from Wyvern Heights, he always arrives back to letters from her and her husband and gets greeted by them the second he’s back.
“I’m fostering someone, actually,” he lies, unsure of what she’s seen from her constantly open window shades. “A teenage girl.”
Mrs. Obi gasps, a hand pressed to her chest. “Does the Town Council know?”
“Not yet, but I’d appreciate it if they don’t find out until I tell them.” He knows she’ll tell Mr. Obi no matter what, but hopes they’ll keep it between the two of them and not involve other people until he can think of the best way to frame the existence of an unauthorized dhampir.
“Oh, I won’t tell a soul! Does she know about… you know what?” She says this as she stands on her tiptoes, trying to peer over his shoulder like she might catch a glimpse of her.
“No. Bye, Ingrid.” He closes the door in her face and heads up the stairs to confront Rose, weighing his options. He could go for the nice parent act or the assertive one, and settles on the serious type. He wants her to know just how important it is to do what she’s told, especially when living in a town with as much craziness as this one.
“I know you heard that,” he says immediately.
Rose looks up from a thick book on Greek mythology. “Heard what?” she asks.
“Look. I won’t ever ask you to do much. But when I do, you need to listen. Understood?”
“If you think–!” Rose stops mid-sentence and huffs. “I mean, yeah… okay.”
Heath leaves the room, not wanting to argue. He needs to take a drive. He passes the couch to see the cat, Leonidas, lounging on his couch like he owns the place. He reaches out and the cat immediately rolls over to his back with a purr.
Heath is glad at least one creature in the house likes him.
He leaves a note on the fridge, then realizes that his blood is still in the fridge. He opens it to find the boxes untouched and a brown paper bag of Mexican food. If his heart could pound, it would have been, for he felt just then an intense wave of dread in which a quickened heartbeat typically accompanies.
He decides to buy two mini fridges and store his meals in there, instead. He leaves a note on the fridge in pen that reads:
Dear Rose,
Text me if you need me. I am picking up food. Please don’t open the door for anyone.
Take care.
– H
Hopefully, by throwing in a “please”, she’d think twice before letting in another pesky neighbor. Mrs. Obi can be an obnoxious bitch, but she’s harmless. Her husband, on the other hand… He’s a wildcard.
Heath starts up the car and heads to the store. When he arrives, he gets a text that reads “cat food and oreos”. He scowls, nearly texting back for her to name some “real foods” but deciding to just go ahead and guess what she’d like. He wipes his glasses on his turtleneck sweater, looking at his own red eyes in the car mirror. His eye bags stand out against his pale skin, making him look as tired as he feels. Heath slides the shades back on and enters the store, hoping this will help make Rose feel even more at home.
