Say Yes To Forever

Chapter Twelve

The first snow of Winter falls sometime in the night between Wednesday and Thanksgiving. I wake to a bright light beyond my lids, blinking a few times only to see the white powder and frost across the windowpanes. Instantly beaming with joy, I drag my comforter while it’s wrapped around me and sit at my desk.

The tree outside my window that is between the driveway and the walk-up is covered in layers and layers of fluffy snow. The land is matching, with only a small path already shoveled by Mama (and I make a mental note to ask Cyrus to come to pick me up). The skies beyond are a brilliant blue, practically sparkling like the aquamarine necklace I have from my stepmother.

I’d been too tired the night before, falling asleep with a book on my chest, that I’d completely forgotten to set an alarm or pull my curtains. But it seems the universe had my back; I am now fully awake and excited to start my day. A day I’ve been looking forward to with gusto, I might add, ‘cause I finally feel ready to meet Cyrus’s family.

Maybe it’d been the fact I could finally open up to Nikki about the Vampire thing, much to her support, or maybe that when I did tell Mama I’d be with Cyrus on Thanksgiving her only response was “Okay”, and no other argument, or maybe it was the magik of the first snow… but something, really something, feels good, feels right.

Back on my bed I tug on my wool socks and throw over Cyrus’s sweatshirt that I’ve been cuddling with. I pull the sleeves to my palms and carefully make my way downstairs. The kitchen that much colder, I do a little dance as I wait for coffee. I get distracted quickly, though, by the snow yet again, and as I slide up against the bay window, shaking my head in wonder.

I’ve always loved and will probably always love the way that snow seems to coat the world so effortlessly. From the highest of trees to the deepest valleys, from the top of the church bell to the benches by the gazebo…. It doesn’t matter where: there is snow.

Snow that brings a quietness, too, a sort of soft silence. Another busy morning in town can sound as peaceful as a walk in the middle of the night. When I take my few hikes to get pictures of the frozen river, for just a moment, I feel alone in the best way possible. I realize now I love those moments ‘cause, one way or another, I do have a sensitivity to energy and that kind of energy is truly serene.

Back upstairs now, coffee in hand, it’s time to tear through my closet and find the perfect I’m-meeting-my-boyfriends-family, snow friendly, Thanksgiving outfit.

Though Thanksgiving usually calls for burnt oranges, mustard yellows, light browns, and soft creams… those colors have never gone well with my Fairest Of All complexion. A spitting image of my dad, I sometimes fancy that I look like Scarlet O’Hara from Gone With The Wind. Inspired by that now, I think of her red dresses, particularly the one with long sleeves.

In the back of the Winter side of my closet, I find exactly what I have in mind: a red velvet, maxi dress with a boat neck, low back, and long sleeves. It’s borderline semi-formal, something I’d worn Nikki’s mom’s third wedding rehearsal dinner.

Back at my vanity after my shower, I put warm curlers in my hair and start my makeup. Maybe something a little more noticeable than what Cyrus likes best, I still only use makeup to only emphasize my features. A darker, fuller brow with a soft, ombre lid plus long, black lashes, and… I pick up my burgundy lipstick. All together the look is very Rachel Green, and I am living for it.

Dress on, makeup set, loosely curled hair in a sort of half-up-do, I look to my watch to see I have about another five minutes before Cyrus is supposed to be here. He’d promised we could stop into town for Duke’s traditional Thanksgiving cinnamon coffee and cinnamon rolls breakfast combo and then I asked if we could stop by the market so I could pick up flowers for his mom.

Holding the bouquet stems delicately in one hand while gently rubbing my thumb over a yellow rose petal, I breathe in the floral aroma, “Oh, these are just perfect!”

Cyrus rubs his hand up and down my upper arm, “You didn’t have to get them anything.”

I shrug, “Never go anywhere empty-handed, especially if someone is feeding you.”

He chuckles and kisses my hair. “Well,” he lifts up the bursting grocery bag, “I think you’ve made up for it and then some.”

Nodding, I double-check with him, “Flowers for your mom, that bottle of wine for your dad, a pecan pie nobody else can stand for Willow, a weird spinach salad kit for Alex, and the trashy magazine that your mom hates for Tori.”

In the car, I pull something out of the bag at my feet, “And for you, a box of watermelon Gushers.”

This has Cyrus laughing now, looking at me with an expression of pure endearment. He reaches over, brushing his thumb across my cheek, “I love you,” he chuckles.

Heart, lungs, mind all come to an instantaneous halt.

But before I can even process or even think if I want to say it or anything back, Cyrus leans and kisses my forehead. “How about we get to my place, hm? Everyone’s going to be so happy to see you.”

The front door closed, Cyrus calls out, “Hey guys! I’m back and come bearing gifts!”

Cyrus helps me out of my coat and hangs in on the rack and I follow his lead and unzip my boots to leave them by the door. Adjusting my dress and fluffing out my hair, I then stand with my hands folded in front of my waist. From the left side of the house, where I can only assume is the kitchen, there’s soft music and commentary from the Macy’s Day Parade and talking and laughter. When that sort of bubble of noise comes towards us, I smile wide to be greeted by the family.

True, I’d seen Claude that night in the woods, but now in the bright light of day, I can honestly say he does not look forty-something. In fact, he reminds me of the last time I saw my dad (before he crossed the wall and he had been pushing thirty). Definitely giving off Luc Teyssier French Kiss vibes, his dark hair matches his dark eyes and the dark stubble. But, still, offering a feeling of welcoming and warmth, that I knew that if he hugged me, I’d feel safe. Instead, he offers a hand to shake. “Valarie, how wonderful to see you.”

“Thank you!” I then offer the Autumn bouquet to Caroline, “These are for you, Misses Laveroi.”

With a beaming smile, she takes them with one hand and then hugs me with another. Caroline reminds me so much of Nicolette Braschi, who was captivating in Life Is Beautiful, (a French film we had to watch while studying World War Two). Same petite frame, same huge smile, and there’s an undeniable motherly kindness in her eyes. “Thank you, Valarie! These are lovely.”

Then I bend quickly to get the bag at my feet. Holding the straps in one hand, I reach in with the other. “Oh, and this is for you, Mister Laveroi.” When he looks over the bottle, I quickly clarify, “Cyrus helped pick it out.”

He smiles, “I’m sure it’ll be lovely with dinner.”

Since I’ve met Tori before, even if it was just for a few minutes here and there, I hand her the magazine first. As I take her in properly, there’s something about her that makes me feel like she stepped off the set of Jane Austen movie. Maybe in her features or how she’s done her hair up… I can’t quite put my finger on it, but the young girl is utterly poised as she’s already flipping through the pages of celebrity gossip. “Awesome! Thanks!”

Willow and Alex stand together, and I’ve never seen fraternal twins look so identical… and look so close to their parents in age, (a positive to Claude and Caroline, not a negative to Willow and Alex). Both with red hair, I wonder if Willow dyes her hair so it’s a little less brown, like Alex’s, ‘cause she totally looks like Nicole Kidman in Practical Magic. I don’t know why, but she makes me feel the most nervous. So, as Cyrus tosses the salad bag to Alex, I carefully pull out the pecan pie, “Cyrus said that nobody else likes pecan pie, so you guys never have it. But I like it! So, we can totally share it!” I say with maybe a little too much enthusiasm.

This softens her a lot and she smiles, “Thank you. Why don’t we take it into the kitchen?”

Night had fallen when we were second servings deep into dessert, though I don’t think any of us really noticed nor cared ‘cause we were having such a good time. After introductions I slid right into helping in the kitchen, taking breaks here and there to join various conversations. To the point that by the time I sat down with them all, I’d completely forgotten what I’d been nervous about.

As the time at the dining table crawled to its end, Claude commented that it would be a beautiful night for a bonfire. The snow had stopped, it was in the high forties, and he had already shoveled the area just in case. Everyone was in agreement, including me, though I did have to ask Cyrus for an extra sweater.

While he’s inside grabbing it, Tori plops down next to me on the log bench. Looking exactly like Nikki when she’s had one too many, I think of how Tori has probably had the most drinks out of anyone. She leans into me, “Has anyone ever called you Val?”

The same way one might laugh at a kitten who’s fallen over, I brush some of Tori’s hair out of her face, and with a chuckled reply, “Just my dad.”

She wavers back a little, “Mmm, and that’s no good. Dad thoughts are no good.”

My brows come together, “Ah… maybe, I guess.”

Looking around, I try and see if anyone should be concerned about Tori, but Willow and Caroline are all the way on the other side, deep in conversation that has something to do with law, and Claude and Alex seem to have made good on their promise to run to the kitchen to get more soda and smores makings. Thinking of what I might do with Nikki, I offer Tori my bottle of water. “Here….”

As she drinks it, I lean in a little, “Is this your first time drinking this much? Do you need some help?” I ask, thinking maybe I could get her into bed.

She laughs. Laughs so hard she almost falls off the bench. “Well, if you must know, Val, I’ve been able to drink this much for almost two hundred years now. And man,” she snorts, “if you think I’m thin-blooded, you should see your boyfriend drinking on a stomach of AB negative.”

I am stunned into silence.

And before I can even react, Caroline has pulled Tori off the log. “What have you done!” she… well, she growls.

I stand quickly and try to get between them, “Wait, stop, it’s okay!”

Claude grabs his wife and brings her back and I feel Tori’s hands on my waist as she hides. It reminds me so vividly of the times Mama yelled at me and I hid behind Dad. I hold my hands up like he would have, “It’s okay.”

Caroline and Claude share and look and look to Cyrus who is now trying to pull Tori away from me.

“No! He didn’t say anything.”

Tori speaks up now, “S-she already knew.”

She must have read my mind. I still nod and look to Claude, “I did.”

Cyrus, with the most terrified look in his eyes, takes a half step forward. “And it’s… all right?”

The rest of the family gives us a little space and I close the gap between us. I take his hands in mine and look into his eyes that shine like peridots from the light of the fire. “It’s okay. It’s very much okay,” I smile, “I’ve known… for weeks.

“Cyrus,” I take a deep breath, “I love you.”

Before I know it, he’s lifted me off the ground, somehow twirling us around while we kiss. When my feet finally hit something solid, I laugh a little and reach up to caress his cheek. “I love you.”

He looks over my face as if it’s the most effervescent and precious thing in the world, “And I love you.”

Biting my lip, I peek over to see his family’s reactions. But they’re nowhere to be found. Bemused, I giggle, “You guys sure do move fast, huh?”

He guides us to one of the log benches, where a blanket and his extra sweater are draped. “They just wanted to give us some privacy.”

I tug the sweater over my head, “And talk to Tori?”

His head moves side to side, “Even if she could read your mind and knew that you knew for a fact, she still shouldn’t have done that. But,” he sighs as he wraps the blanket around us after we sit, “this time of year is hard on her.”

Not knowing if it is okay to ask why, I curl up around him. “So… do you feel better now?”

---

“Better?” I chuckle, “Try the best I have ever felt.”

Her little fingers go up and down my chest softly, “Good… good.”

I kiss her temple, “And you?”

“I’m actually kind of… excited. To be able to talk about everything. But,” she pushes up from me slightly so we are eye level, “I just want you to know that you can… like, be however you would be when you’re not trying to be Human,” she squints, “you know?”

I rub my face with my free hand, “You sure? It won’t… freak you out?”

“It’s got to be such a pain, right? Literally? Like a sinus headache?” She pecks my cheek, “I just want you to be comfortable.”

Feeling very awkward and apprehensive, I open my mouth slightly to let my fangs extend to the normal, resting position. I close my eyes for a moment, letting the relief wash over me. “Yes… that does feel better.”

Valarie’s little hand comes back to my face, her soft fingers resting on my jaw while her thumb brushes my lips… and my fangs. I open my eyes to see her expression of curiosity and care. “They’re quite long,” she comments softly. She quickly lowers her hand and wraps the blanket better around her, “That must hurt a lot.”

I bring her back to laying on my chest. “But I’m better now… all better.” The best, actually. Simply the best.

---

Having trouble sleeping in a foreign house, I stealthily make my way down to the kitchen. It was extremely generous for Claude and Caroline to let me stay. Though I loved falling asleep in Cyrus’s bed, in his arms, all that I’m not used to alarmed my brain to wake me up. Knowing that even the smallest of sounds could wake the sleeping Vampires, I try my best to be silent.

There’s a soft, golden glow coming in through the windows from the lamp by the mailbox as I look for something to drink in the fridge. Apple juice seems the most appealing and I place the bottle on the counter. Just when I turn to the cabinet for a cup, I notice Tori out the corner of my eye.

Heart pounding, my hand slams against my chest, “s**t!”

“Sorry!” She slips into the stool other the other side of the breakfast bar. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

With the glass of apple juice ready to go, I move to be across from her. “It’s okay, I just didn’t hear you.”

Looking exhausted and amidst a vicious hangover, Tori rubs her temple, “Sorry. Usually, I’m better about being noisy.”

Without even thinking about how weird it might be, I get another glass from the cabinet and pull out a pitcher I assume to be blood. Though I hadn’t seen anything else that looks like it, I still double-check, “Do you want some of this?”

She looks at me the same way Nikki does when I offer her water and pain killers, “Please.”

I hand her the glass. “… you okay?”

Holding the glass in both hands, she leans forward. Squinting at me she whispers, “You’re something else, you know that?”

I tuck my hair behind my ear, “Cyrus seems to think so.”

She sighs, “I’m really sorry about earlier.”

Brows together, I frown a little, “It’s okay.”

But she shakes her head and looks down into her glass, gaze wavering. “I shouldn’t have been reading your mind and it doesn’t matter if you knew, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s over now… it’s no big deal.”

We drink in silence for a while and then Tori finally looks up at me. “This time of year is hard on me. Only Dad and Mom know, but a long time ago… all the way back, well, I was betrothed to my best friend. He was a copii buni – a born Vampire and became my Sire. Vampirically speaking, my two hundredth birthday was in July.”

Her voice is just over a whisper and her eyes are glassy, “We got married, we were blessed to both have întipărire – to be an împerecherea adevărată, and I was pregnant…. It was perfect. Everything was perfect. And then, that November, the Van Helsings came.”

She wipes away the tears with her thumb. “They killed William and left me for dead. I lost our baby. I was…,” but she takes a deep breath instead. “Claude and Caroline found me, helped me heal and get my strength back, gave me a place to belong.

“That’s how we all ended up here, I think…” her eyes drift to the window. “We all needed a place to belong, so we found each other.”

“You’re family,” I comment quietly.

She smiles softly and replies with a breathy laugh, “Yes… that’s exactly it.” Sliding off the stool she raises her glass to me. “Anyway, I should get back to bed. Sleep well, Val.”

“You, too…,” and she disappears up the stairs.

---

Heavy warmth washes over me like extremely subtle waves, as if I drift along on a lazy river, half in and half out. Half in the world of sleep and half out, I am only barely aware of my surroundings. Every single muscle is eased, floating, and yet sinking into the bedding. Heart pumping and lungs lifting only when absolutely needed, slow and shallow.

My senses take their sluggish time carrying me back to the walking world. Silky strands are twirled around my fingertips, the side of my hand is lifted up and down as it rests on something cozy and toasty. There’s a lingering scent of vanilla, (memories of fresh sugar cookies crossing my mind), that twists and twirl with the gently moving air. A chorus of sounds come together – the slowly turning fan, muted breathing, and wind chimes dancing in the distance – in some delightful way that triggers an autonomous sensory meridian response. And then, when my sight finally breaks free from the darkness, the bridge of Valarie’s nose is the first thing I see.

Last night I had thought there would be no topping this, from her accepting that I’m a Vampire to her saying she loved me to the intimate moments between the sheets, surely there could be nothing better. And yet, this morning as I wake, having Valarie sleeping peacefully in my arms is better in a whole different way. In the most vulnerable state a person can be in, she is here, with me, in my arms, safe and serene.

Something had happened last night as she sat on top of me and I cradled her back when we truly were making love, which I can only explain as a euphoric, transcendent connection between her soul and mine. I had cuplata – we had cuplata, (whatever the correct phrasing may be), and it awoke something deep and primal in me.

I look at her now and a voice in my head whispers “mine”. I look at her now and want to make her the happiest female in the world. I look at her now and know I will do everything in my power to make sure she wants for nothing. I look at her now and know I would sacrifice my life for hers.

I look at her now and know I am permanently, irreversibly, eternally in love.