As I huddled in my seat, I thought about those words again: wither and die.
You know, I used to lead a normal life. I grew up here in Orange County, was a cheerleader and softball player, went to college in Fullerton, got a master's degree in criminal science, and then went on to work for the federal government. Lots of dreams and ambitions. One of them was to get married and start a family. I did that, and more.
Life was good. Life was fun. Life was easy.
If someone had told me that one day my daily To-Do List would consist of the words: 1) Buy extra-duty sunblock. 2) Oh, and see if Norco Slaughterhouse will set up a direct billing... well, I would have told them to go back to their Anne Rice novels.
I sat in my minivan, huddled in my seat, buried under my sunhat and sunblock, wary of any beam of sunlight, and shook my head and I kept shaking my head until I found myself crying softly in my hands. Smearing my sunscreen.
Damn.
I may not have known what lived in me, and I may not have known the dark lineage of my blood, but I knew one thing for fucking sure. No one was going to keep me from seeing my kids. Not Danny. And not the sun.
I opened my van door and got out.
Chapter Eight
I gasped and stumbled.
I reached a gloved hand out and braced myself on the hot fender of my minivan. Heat from the sheet metal immediately permeated the thin glove. Maybe Stephenie Meyer's vampires had it right. Maybe I should move up to Washington State, in the cold and rain, where gray clouds perpetually covered the skies.
Maybe someday. But not now. I had real-life issues to deal with.
I gathered myself together and strode across the quiet parking lot, filled mostly with teachers' and school administrators' cars. I'm sure I must have looked slightly drunk - or perhaps sick - huddled in my clothing, head down, stumbling slightly.
A small wind stirred my thick hair enough to get a few strands stuck in the copious amounts of sunscreen caked on my face. I ignored my hair. I needed to get the hell out of the sun. And fast.
I picked up my pace as another wind brought to me the familiar scents of cafeteria food. Familiar, as in this was exactly what cafeteria food had smelled like back when I was in elementary school.
After crossing the hot parking lot, I stepped up onto a sidewalk and a moment later I was under an eave, gasping.