Eric Vanhelsing
A grimace spread wide on my face as I watched my father's wife, my stepmother, sob fake tears into my father's flower-patterned shirt.
"Oh, Justin! Why did it have to be Justin?" she wailed like she was Justin's biological mother.
The way father had his hands around her as he consoled her while promising all would be well almost made me want to punch something. We had been waiting for close to six hours and the doctors had still not come out of the operating room. Unable to watch the display of acting talent anymore, I stood up and walked out of the waiting room, yanking my tie off my neck so I could breathe properly. I ran my hand into my hair not for the first time that morning.
"I still don't get why our father brought her here! This is a family thing and she isn't family. If only I could just go back and drag her out of the hospital by her overdyed blond hair, I would." My sister followed me out, shoving a hand roughly into her jet-black hair. Her green eyes, so unlike my icy grey, had grown dark with anger. She had her leather pants and jacket on. Her face was made up in her usual emo fashion whenever she had a performance at the bar her husband owned.
"How did the show go?" I asked, needing a change in topic so I wouldn't rush back in and do what Amelia had described.
"I was already on stage, singing with the band. I only got the news from Jake when we took a break. You can imagine how I left things." She dragged a hand over her face in frustration. "I hope nobody was hurt. I heard he was drunk."
I didn't respond. It wasn't like I needed to anyway. We both knew how recklessly Justin lived. Ever since our mother's gruesome death, things never remained the same for any of us. Justin, our sweet little brother, started taking drugs, sleeping with different girls every night, constantly getting into fights, and going from one extreme sport to another. You would think he wanted to die too. Amelia, on the other hand, had been suicidal, buried so deep in depression that she couldn't see past what could be waiting for her in the other life. Without Jake's appearance in her life, she probably would have been gone too. It didn't help us that father had immediately remarried like he had been waiting for our mother to die. Mom's body had not even gotten accustomed to the grave before he went ahead to tie the knot with Lyra, who had been mom's assistant at the time. It was one of the numerous reasons why I loathed our father and couldn't stand him. All the respect and hero worship I had for him died an instant death the moment he turned his back on all his grieving kids.
"Have you tried reaching Max?" Amelia asked me just as Jake returned with three cups of coffee. He handed one to his wife and stretched the other my way. Raising my brows to convey my gratitude, I took my styrofoam cup.
"I haven't been able to reach him," I told her, preferring that over the truth. I couldn't tell Amelia that Max had refused to come back home even after being told his youngest brother might die. His demons had a grip so tight that the possibility of our brother dying couldn't set him free.
Amelia, who was pissed he missed her court wedding, would go ballistic if she ever found out he declined to come back home to be with the family.
"The reporters are having a field day. You should see the number of them outside." Jake said, wrapping his hand around Amelia's middle. I watched as she sank into him, relief filling her beautiful face as he held her. I refused to think of my supposed girlfriend, currently walking the runway in Paris. It wasn't like what we had together was something as beautiful as what Amelia and Jake shared. Far from it.
Diana was with me for the money and the fame my name could give and I needed a warm body for sex. Our relationship was purely transactional. I didn't want love and I knew love didn't want me either. I stopped believing in that emotion thanks to dad.
"We would be fine. I already sent Damon to handle the press and feed them a story they would believe." I reassured them, taking another sip of my coffee. I could already feel the effect kicking in.
"Father told me that a girl was with him when the paramedics got there. She came with them to the hospital but she left after you arrived. Do you think they were together?" Amelia asked me, curiosity colouring her pale face.
"I can't say." My mind went to the young girl with red hair and blue eyes. She had been shaking like a leaf when I got to her. Quickly, I donned my coat over her brown leather jacket that had seen better days and told her to wait for me so I could attend to what was required of me. Only to return and find her gone, with my coat resting on the bench I had left her on.
"You didn't see her?" She persisted, needing more information than what I was giving. I was about to speak when Lyra opened the door and told us the doctor was around. We rushed back into the waiting room, thoughts of my brother's saviour quickly forgotten.
~
Nadia
"I need one cup of coffee and two blueberry muffins." A slightly round lady requested with her eyes latched greedily on the muffin I knew was doing her more harm than good. "To go." she added.
I mechanically went through the process of making her coffee before proceeding to select the blueberries she wanted. I had put the two she selected in a brown bag when she asked me to put one more.
"Can I get another one?" I did as ordered, my eyes dropping closed even though my hands were busy.
"One more." I became slightly annoyed because that was the second time she would tell me to put 'one more' after I had walked back to hand her her order.
"Is that all?" I cocked an eyebrow, not caring if I was rude. Luckily she only blushed in response, sparing me any lecture my attitude might have deserved.
"I'm so sorry. That would be all."
I quickly packed her order and charged her before she could change her mind and ask me to add one more twenty times.
"I don't care, Bob. You had better get your lazy butt off that couch and come fix the oven for us. We just paid the rent, we can't afford to buy another oven and without an oven, we can't make pastries." I heard my godmother, who was my adoptive mother, yell at her husband over the phone before banging the receiver back into place. I smiled a little when she came out of the office and sat directly in front of me, fuming as she crossed and uncrossed her legs. Those were signs that she was about to complain.
"What do I do with him? He is so useless I just want to knock him on the head till he has some sense." She sighed, her eyes on the picture of the two of them just before they opened the bakery, hanging directly above where I stood.
"Well," I suppressed a yawn with my hand before continuing, "You know father isn't all that bad. You're just angry he chose to go on a trip with the guys when you wanted money to buy a new oven." I told her, sitting on the high stool behind the counter.
She raised both hands in the air in a 'is that too much to ask for gesture. "You're right. But really, is that too much to ask? We need a new oven, Honey. What we have there now is only waiting for the right moment to surprise us before yelling 'go fuck yourself' and spitting black smoke in our faces."
I laughed as I pictured what she said. It was no secret that I got my weird imaginings from her.
"Well, he needed the time out. He hasn't gone with them for a very long time, but their destination this time around was Japan. We both know how much he loves that country." I tried to get her to see reason beyond her anger.
"I don't need your voice of reason, Honey. All I want from you is support. Once he comes in now, I need you to join me in stabbing him with your eyes. That way we get to make him feel guilty." She smiled her evil smile, rubbing her hands together as a chuckle escaped her lips. I shook my head tiredly, feeling like I would die if I didn't sleep before my afternoon job.
"Since we are less busy, can you handle things alone while I catch some zees? " I only asked out of courtesy, I was already walking towards the office where we had a pull-out sofa.
"Hey, I noticed you came home later than you usually do. Hope all went well. " She asked, concern wiping the smirk that had been on her face just moments ago. I nodded, promising to talk to her about my night later. Luckily, she didn't insist we have that talk now, probably seeing how tired I was.
With zombielike steps, I moved to the office, closed the door with a soft click and did what I had to do immediately after my body touched the sofa.
Was it weird that I dreamt of the man who draped my shoulders with his black great coat?