Ten
904 Words
With that, Mary grabbed one of her bags that had all of her beach essentials in there, asked Dorian for the key code around the house, then she was off to find whatever gold she could ride in this newly discovered house with a “Hurry up and let’s go in less than five!”
Clarissa watched her granddaughter leave with a sigh and a disappointed shake of the head. Chiara and Dorian, reading the room, glanced at each other simultaneously. Without any prompting, Dorian finished what he was doing with the locks and grabbed Clarissa’s bag.
“I’ll take them up to your room, Clarissa,” he courteously offer.
“Thank you,” the old lady answered, although her attention was quickly taken when the sound of a revving engine was heard from the outside—and it was coming from a UTV that no other than Mary was riding. She stopped right in front of the front door then ran back to the garage.
“Look at that girl, she hasn’t even unpacked and she has already gone,” Clarissa sighed, although instead of seeming angry, she was rather concerned.
“She’s young, Clarissa,” Chiara carefully said as she placed a hand on the woman's shoulder. “Let her have some fun for the meantime.”
“That is what I am worried about, Miss Chiara.” Clarissa turned to her with her eyebrows all bunched up. “Should the time come that I am gone, I would at least want to make sure she has grown enough to take care of herself. She will not be young forever.”
Chiara nodded sincerely, knowing that there really wasn’t much she could do but overstep—and she didn’t want to do that so instead, she just said, “Sorry, Clarissa.”
Clarissa looked at her for a second then asked, “Is there anything you'd like to share, Miss?”
“No, no,” Chiara quickly denied as she pushed Mary's set of bags out of the way. “It’s nothing. It’s really not my place.”
“Please. After living with only the two of them for so long, I think I need a fresh pair of eyes,” Clarissa admitted with a smile.
Knowing Clarissa to never sugarcoat her own words, Chiara reluctantly began, “Truth is I've felt that way before—it’s only normal to want your child to succeed, and even though you do things out of worry or to teach them life lessons, it mostly doesn’t translate well to their ears and they might think you're overbearing and too much of an authoritarian. So, the best thing to do is join them from time to time, don't make it so obvious you're looking after them like kids, or else they would only rebel more—like kids.” Chiara ended with a confident shrug, but then suddenly added, “Of course, I speak from my own experience.”
Clarissa's lips turned up into a small smile. “Sometimes, Miss Chiara,” she spoke as they heard another revving of an engine. “I forget how many lives you’ve led. You remain youthful yet your eyes have seen so much. Do you consider it as a gift or as a curse?”
Chiara opened her mouth to speak but no answer came out automatically. She had always thought about that question, but often her answers would differ every few years—but now, she was torn between the two.
Thankfully, Mary took it upon herself to unknowingly give Chiara some time to think about the question.
“Alright, Chiara, you ready?” Mary asked—somehow she had gotten dressed in surfing gear already—as she tossed one of the keys to her.
“I’ll just get a towel,” Chiara nodded, but before she left, she had to ask, “Clarissa?”
Mary scoffed playfully at them. “As if Clarissa is going to—"
“Let me change my clothes,” Clarissa cut in, trying to keep a straight face but failing only a little when a corner of her lips turned up as soon as her back was turned.
“Wow, Clarissa going out? Who is she? ” Mary whispered in awe to Chiara. “Anyway, let's get going! Usual team-up, everyone!” she shouted so loud that anyone in the house could probably hear.
Chiara smiled and decided to push that existential question Clarissa had presented to her for later.
“Let's go, let's go!” she heard Dorian's voice say before she saw him. Mary was the first to see because she was facing his direction. The judging look on her face was very telling that something was wrong, especially when they heard Clarissa breathe out, “Master Dorian,” in a way that Chiara had never heard her use on him before—with a hint of disgust.
Chiara finally turned to see what the fuss was all about, just as Mary said, “If anyone at the beach asks, pretend you don't know me,” in a way that sounded like a joke, but Chiara knew better, especially when her eyes laid upon the more-than-a-century old vampire—for there he was, his skin glistening white from the generous amount of sunblock, wearing four layers of long sleeved shirts, and a giant folded umbrella in his hand.
- Writer
