When Joe came out of the shower, Evelyn was on the phone, speaking in the serious tones she used with the lawyer and the accountant and Mrs. Watson. She wasn't distracted by him getting dressed in front of her, so he gave up with a sigh and started looking for his Chemistry text. She looked up inquisitively when the doorbell rang.
"I ordered pizza," said Joe, grabbing his wallet on his way out of the bedroom. He thumped down the stairs. This was going to be a great night: he had no assignments and no tests to study for on Monday; there was a movie on cable he'd been wanting to see; Evelyn said she had hunted last night, so he'd have her all to himself this weekend. All he had to do was get through one chapter of Chemistry.
Instead of the usual baseball-capped pizza delivery there were two men in their twenties. Both were dressed in dark suits and ties, and neither of them carried a pizza. One had brown hair, brown eyes and the thick build of a football player or a body guard. The other, slightly shorter, had dark hair and eyes the most amazing shade of aquamarine.
"Uh, sorry, we don't need any copies of The Watchtower..." said Joe, starting to close the door.
The man with the aquamarine eyes reached out and firmly stopped it.
"We're looking for Evelyn," he said pleasantly.
"We're old friends of hers from Toronto," explained the football player.
"You are." Mortal friends or vampire friends? wondered Joe. Or were they stakers? "She's not home right now." That was what he'd been taught to say as a child when his father was drinking. "I can have her call you."
The man with the aquamarine eyes looked up at the front of the house. "She's here," he said with complete confidence.
"Look, why don't you just get her and she can vouch for us," said the football player, slightly amused. "We'll wait out here."
The second man turned his eyes full on Joe. Get her, he heard in his head, and quite clearly.
Joe knew how much Evelyn hated hollering in the house, but he made an exception.
"Evelyn!"
"What?" she stepped out of the morning room.
At the sight of the strangers her face broke into a smile. "Jake!"
Joe was sure that it was Jake who opened his arms for an embrace -- Evelyn wasn't that demonstrative. But they did hug.
She had no smiles for the other man. "Adrian," she said without inflection.
"Evelyn," he smiled a game show host's toothy smile, "you look lovely."
"Thank you," she said with the same emotionless civility. "Jake, I want to introduce you to Joe Cheney. Joe, this is Jake Fowler, someone I met up in Canada a few years ago."
Joe shook Jake's hand and then slipped his arm possessively around Evelyn's shoulders.
"And this is Professor Adrian Talbot. He--"
"Is delighted to make your acquaintance," said Adrian, grinning broadly.
"I was going to say he looks very good considering his age. Which is what? A few hundred years?"
"Four centuries," bragged Adrian, "and still going strong."
"Good to the last drop," joked Jake.
"Well, won't you come in?" invited Evelyn, and led them into the conservatory.
Adrian looked around at the stereo equipment, the shelf of sheet music, the scrollwork music stand gathering dust in the corner, and the large empty Persian carpet.
"Shouldn't there be a piano here?" he asked, indicating the space with his outstretched arms.
"No," said Evelyn.
"Yes," said Joe.
"There was, once. I had it removed," she explained, as if it had been an abnormal growth.
"I sometimes play a bit," said Adrian with false modesty.
Evelyn just glared.
She hates me, Adrian projected telepathically to Jake.
Well-l.... Jake was trying to think of something encouraging to say, but since he didn't really know why Adrian was here with him, maybe encouragement wasn't the best idea. Do you blame her?
Adrian turned away with his nose in the air to find Joe staring at him, his green eyes as round as saucers. Had he heard? No, thought Adrian, not possible. You couldn't overhear telepathic conversations unless the sender was broadcasting to you.
"I'm afraid I don't have anything to offer Adrian," said Evelyn, "but I'm sure Joe could get you something the drink, Jake."
"Uh, sure," said Joe. "What would you like?"
"Just a Coke, if you have it."
"Sure." Joe looked around the room as if he wasn't sure he wanted to leave, or maybe that he shouldn't leave, before striding off.
"So what brings you to Ohio?" asked Evelyn, seating herself in a wing chair across from Jake, who was on the leather couch. Adrian was looking over the sheet music.
"Funeral. My Great-Uncle Philip."
"I'm sorry."
Jake shrugged. "I haven't seen him in about ten years. It's not like I really knew him or I'm going to miss him or anything. You look really good, Evelyn."
Ja-cob, scolded Adrian.
She gave him a slightly skewed smile. "I look exactly the same as I did two years ago, Jake. Did you come to mourn Great-Uncle Philip too, Adrian?"
"The boy needs a chaperon," returned Adrian, deadpan. "I just came along to keep him company. It's a long drive."
"It seemed longer in the dark," groused Jake.
"I wouldn't be much company in the daylight. But since I am here, let me take the opportunity to apologize, Evelyn. We really got off on the wrong foot two years ago. There's no reason for us not to be friends."
Jake turned and stared at the vampire, who paid no attention to him at all.
"I accept your apology," she said graciously, "and I'm sorry I was so antagonistic myself."
"Good!" Adrian flashed his very white teeth.
Joe had no sooner come back with a cold can of Coke for Jake when the doorbell rang again.
"I got it," muttered Joe. He hated to leave. A vampire and his mortal companion, interesting things had to be going on in there. Interesting conversations. And he didn't like the wistful way Jake looked at Evelyn.
This time it was pizza. Joe paid and carried it back to the conservatory on one hand, like a waiter with a tray. He set it on the coffee table between Evelyn and Jake. "Help yourself," he told Jake without making eye contact.
"Thanks. There wasn't much to eat at the wake."
"But there was plenty to drink," added Adrian. He headed for the wing chair that matched Evelyn's but recoiled in disgust from the pizza. "Ugh. How can you two eat that?"
"You missed out, Adrian, they didn't have pizza in your time," said Jake.
"My time?" responded Adrian. "I'll have you know, Jacob Fowler, that all of the last four hundred years has been my time. I may have occasionally stooped to drinking from animals, but I never ate anything that disgusting."
"Maybe you could take it to the dining room?" suggested Evelyn.
"Sure," said Joe with a heavy sigh. He shut the lid and carried away the offensive item. A glance over his shoulder showed him that Jake was following.
