I know now. But that was my only chance to end up in Hartford, so I can be with Ben once again. How else would I have explained my sudden interest in my distant aunt and uncle?
I was correct in assuming Randy and Beth live in the same house. Dad coasts down the gravel driveway, and the front door opens as we pull to a stop. I jump out before my parents can protest. To say Randy and Beth are taken aback is an understatement, especially when I yank them into a small group hug.
“Oh, my!” Beth chuckles, even though her eyes are wide and her eyebrows rise taller than a skyscraper. “We’re happy to see you, too, dear.” She returns the hug, lightly patting me.
Randy smirks. “We didn’t think—”
“I’d be happy to see you?” I finish for him. “Yeah, well, you were wrong.” I grin so hard my cheeks hurt.
Randy and Beth glance at each other, and then at my parents. Obviously, they weren’t expecting my excitement. Before, I was too upset about moving to a new town, where I didn’t know a soul, except my relatives. Now I can’t wait to see Jana and Blake . . . and Ben. My Ben. My everything.
“Let’s get you inside,” Beth says. “I have dinner on the stove, and I’m sure you’d love to rest a bit from your little road trip.”
“Actually, I’m not tired at all,” I respond. “So, if it’s okay, I’d like to sit down and chat with you guys.” I smile once again, and she narrows her eyes skeptically.
Beth motions all of us inside, and I step onto the foyer and realize everything is exactly how I remember. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
“Candra, dear,” says Beth, “your room is the first—”
“On the right, upstairs? Got it, thanks.”
All four adults stand dumbfounded in the entryway. I’m sure, if I could read their minds, they’d be questioning how the hell I know so much and why I’m acting so strangely.
I don’t hesitate to make myself right at home. Besides, this place is my second address. Well, was. I keep forgetting I’m not on the old time anymore.
Pausing at the top of the stairs, I say, “By the way, I know why you guys brought me here.”
They all share dubious looks, then restore their attention to me.
“It’s because you’re going to teach me how to become a werewolf,” I state matter-of-factly, displaying a clued-up grin on my face.
A few seconds of silence ensue before all four of them cackle and shake their heads.
“What an imagination you have, dear,” Beth announces through her laughter. “Amy, Bill, you two never told me she was one for theatrics.” She ushers them toward the kitchen, where a pot filled with goodness bubbles on the stove. “Did she take acting lessons? She’s quite good.”
I have to close my mouth; it’s wide open and cavernous. They’re joking, right? Is the universe toying with me? If it is, I don’t like being punked.
The longer I watch them from my spot upstairs, the more I realize they aren’t joking. And if that means I’m not here to become a werewolf, then what am I here for? I mean, yeah, it was my suggestion to my parents and the judge to ship me off so I could live with Randy and Beth, but I thought that was part of the plan. My fate. Whatever you want to call it.
I drag myself, and my suitcase, into the guestroom. I no more sit down on my bed than I’m hitting the floor running to the bathroom, where I throw up. Car sickness? No, that can’t be right. I would’ve been under the weather on the long trip up from Charleston by now. Maybe I’m coming down with a cold, or the flu. Oh, God, I hope not, especially when I’m about to embark on a quest to revisit everything I miss about Hartford. I can’t do that if I’m not well.
“Candra, dinner’s ready!” Mom calls from downstairs. I’m almost afraid to eat anything. Perhaps that’s the problem—I haven’t eaten in a while. Not since we stopped for gas and I scarfed down crappy, gas-station hot dogs.
“Coming!” I shout, as I leave the room and bound down the stairs.
The dining table is set with tableware and napkins, and Beth has bowls resting on the countertop, ready for use.
“You first, dear,” Beth says to me.
I obediently fix my dinner, grab a couple of slices of bread, and return to the