would probably know what I do. What this is all about. Or at least…what it used to be about. I’ve dedicated my life to contacting extra-terrestrials.”
She nodded slowly.
He laughed in a self-deprecating manner that reminded her of Tucker. “I bet you’re wishing about now that you’d ended up at a different house.”
“No.”
“Well.” He sighed. It sounded as though he was pacing, though not a far distance. “I’m starting to think I was wrong. That they don’t really exist. But I’ve lost too many years to this now to stop. Turned myself into an outcast. Pushed my son away over it. So I can’t very well quit now, can I? Then it would all be for nothing.”
Weight pushed down on Mary’s breastbone and it came from Tucker. His energy was at such a high note, she almost couldn’t breathe around the transference of it. And maybe she shouldn’t have pushed this man to dredge up the past, maybe it was unfair to invite the information out into the open when Tucker didn’t choose to hear it himself, but she had to follow her intuition. It sang in her blood like an aria, seeming to flow from a fountain of knowledge. “Your son?”
“I suppose you could say there’s some kind of dark irony to the story. I was looking for his mother, because I knew damn well I couldn’t fill her shoes. I told myself I was doing it for me and my son. But then I lost him, too. It’s just like they say, life is what happens when you’re busy making plans? I was so busy planning her return, I took my eye off the one who was still here.” He stopped for a breath. “I don’t mean to ramble on about my problems, it’s just that I don’t get a lot of people out this way for conversation.”
“You don’t have to apologize—”
Mary cut herself off when she heard Carl’s swift intake of breath. Heard the shuffle of his boots taking a hasty step backward. And she knew that Tucker had walked into view. Vulnerability and anxiety hung in the air like low cloud cover, so thick and acidic she could almost taste it. Please let me have done the right thing.
“Tucker?” croaked Carl.
“Pops,” Tucker responded, striving for his usual jovial tone, but it was halting. “Looking good, man. You been working out?”
His father inhaled a laugh. “Jesus God,” he wheezed. “Where have you been, son? I thought…”
Mary sensed Tucker bracing. “You thought?”
“Well, I thought whoever killed those kids must have taken you somewhere. Killed you, too.” Carl moved past her slowly, his feet crunching in Tucker’s direction. “I’ve thought you dead. But you’re here…I can’t believe you’re here. You…”
Silence landed and it landed hard.
Mary turned toward where she thought they were standing, breath caught in her lungs.
“Son. You don’t look a day older than when you left, but you don’t look exactly the same, either,” he mused in a thick voice. “I…don’t understand.”
“Pops,” Tucker said quietly. “Don’t panic. It’s all right.”
There was a loud thud in the dirt.
“What happened?” Mary half shouted, fumbling with her walking stick.
Tucker sighed. “He fainted.”
Almost everything in his life as a vampire was surreal, but walking into his childhood home and finding that nothing had changed, while carrying his passed-out father in his arms…that took the mother-loving cake.
Jesus, was this really happening?
Everything looked smaller, even his father.
He never thought I murdered those people.
He missed me.
The way his father had looked at him…with joy and regret. It brought everything rushing back. Laughter at breakfast and Christmas morning and playing catch in the front yard. There had been good times. A lot of them. Maybe they’d just been too hard to think about.
Mary, still dressed like a ghost princess, followed behind them with a hand on Tucker’s shoulder, apologizing faster than she could draw breath, which led to her puffing in his wake and his worry ballooning to encompass two people, instead of one.
“Honey, it’s going to be fine,” he said calmly over his shoulder. “Breathe for me. Please. This is not your fault.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No. It was my decision to present myself like some freaky corpse version of his son—”
Mary wailed miserably, turning the dial on his mate’s instinct, making it so that when they walked into the house, every piece of furniture bobbed several inches above the ground. Tucker took a deep breath through his nose and wove through the kitchen, turning sideways down the back hallway that led to his father’s bedroom. Nothing