Ch. 30

The next few weeks followed the same, boring pattern. Go to school. Take lessons at Dvorak Mansion. Invite Bodoleck to Michael’s house for dinner. Over and over and over again. Good thing Rosemary had a lot on her mind most of the time.

“Michael, you’re going to have to sit still for her to fit your suit for you,” Dekanire told Michael.

“I will when she stops poking me with these needles. Ow!” Michael complained as he fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair.

“I’m only poking you because you’re moving so much,” the vampire seamstress yelled holding another needle in her hand. She attempted to put it in the suit without sticking Michael, but that proved to be more impossible than flying pigs.

“Ow! Rosemary! Do something!”

Rosemary sighed. “Michael, listen to the seamstress. She’s a professional. She knows what she’s doing. And you’re just complaining because you don’t even want to go to the ball, but if you want to be alive on your fifteenth birthday, then you have to go. So shut your mouth and hold still,” Rosemary ordered.

Michael grumbled something under his breathe that made Rosemary smile and the rest of the month went by without anything close to remotely interesting happening.

If only that said for Mr. Mason Monajelli.

There was a knock on the bookstore door. “I’m sorry, but we’re closed for the evening. Come back tomorrow and I’ll see you then,” Mason called from behind the counter.

“Oh, darn. And I really wanted to talk to a certain someone tonight,” a woman called through the glass door of the store.

“Veronica. Oh, I - I didn’t realize it was you. Hold on, I’ll open the door for you. I didn’t expect anyone tonight. Wow, you look amazing. Come in, come in. Sit down. I’ll make coffee,” Mason said, stumbling over his words as he spoke them.

“Actually, I was wondering if you would like to go out to dinner with me. The night is young, and there’s an Italian restaurant I’d like to try. Come on. It’ll be fun,” said Veripema. She had her black hair in a loose bun, and was wearing a smooth black dress with a three-quarter-length black shrug over it. Her black heels were held onto her foot with ribbons tied up her legs to a few inches below her knees.

Mason put his fingers together nervously saying, “I don’t know. I have a lot of work to do for Halloween next week and-”

“Come now. When was the last time you went on a date?” Veripema asked slyly.

“Well, I had a business dinner with an associate a few years ago. Does that count?” Mason asked.

“Hardly. I think it’s a fine time for you to go out and have some fun. What do you say?” asked Veripema, already halfway to the door with her hand outstreched.

Mason just stared at her and said, “Okay. Let me go and get my coat.”

“You won’t need it,” Veripema said acidly, almost dragging him out the door and into the car that she had rented and parked outside. She had work of her own to do that night.

By the time they got to the restaurant, the sun was setting. Mason stopped to take it all in, saying, “Amazing. Isn’t the sun beautiful at this time of day?”

“Charming,” Veripema replied in a bored, almost disgusted tome. She quickly caught herself and smiled cheerfully, walking inside.

“Rugantino? Are you serious? It’s one of the most expensive places in Prague. That’s why it’s a favorite for people on their honeymoon. Are you sure you want to go here?” Mason asked Veripema.

She shrugged and replied, “I asked around, and people said that their food was really good, so I thought I’d try it. Don’t worry, I’m paying for it.” She walked in without another word.

“Table for two,” said said in a commanding voice to a nearby waitress once she got to the podium.

“Right this way, ma’am,” the waitress said, startled. She wasn’t used to being talked to like that. Apparently, she had never met Veripema. Unfortunately for here and everyone there, Veripema wasn’t in a very good mood.

Once they were seated and the menus were distributed, the waitress told them, “We are having a wine tasting special tonight. If you taste five wines, you get a bottle of your favorite for only ten koruna. Our wine booklet is in the middle of the table, and I’ll come back when you’re ready to order.”

“We’re ready now. We’ll get two plates of your cheese ravioli and two glasses of your strongest red wine. Thank you. Now move along,” said Veripema. She wanted to get this night over with as soon as she could.

Still taken aback, the waitress picked up the menus and left. Mason said to Veripema, “Veronica, you didn’t have to be so rude. She’s so young, and pretty, too, with that blonde hair. Uncommon in this part of the continent, but-”

“Oh, Mason, I’m so sorry. I’ve been having a bad week. I was visiting my niece - oh, thank you - and my daughter came. We don’t get along much, so - thank you - I try to stay away from her as much as I can, while still visiting B - Becca. Dear little Becca,” Veripema lied while the food and drinks came. Mason had finished half of his glass.

“That’s strong stuff. Why don’t you and your daughter get along?”

“Well, I don’t approve of her husband, for starters. He just isn’t right for her. And she thinks that I didn’t take care of her when she was growing up when I was doing the best I could. Do you want my wine?” Veripema slipped something into her glass and pushed it over to the other side of the table.

“I don’t know. I think one glass is enough for me,” Mason replied.

“Oh, live a little. One more glass isn’t going to hurt anyone. Drink up,” Veripema urged.

Mason looked at the glass for a minute, then picked it up and drained it in one gulp.

“Whoa. I don’t remember the last glass being this strong. Why am I getting so dizzy?” Mason asked more himself than anyone else. He grabbed hold of the edge of the seat before his face fell into his untouched ravioli.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Maybe it was too much wine. We’d better get going. Waitress. We’d like to take these home and our bill. Thank you. Here’s the cash. Keep the change. Mason, I think I should drive. Thank you, Miss,” said Veripema, helping Mason out of his chair 

Veripema helped Mason walk in a straight line out the door, for he couldn’t do it himself. She helped him into the car and sped away. They were back at the bookstore in under five minutes.

“Mason, can you do me a favor?” Veripema asked as sweetly as her short temper would allow. She unlocked the door for Mason and they were inside in a heartbeat. She didn’t have to be careful at the moment. Mason wouldn’t remember anything, anyway.

Mason leaned against the counter and replied, “Sure. Anything for you Veripema. I’ll do anything you ask of me.”

Veripema smirked and told him, “I need that book of yours. The big one about vampires. I desperately need it. Will you give it to me?”

“Um . . . okay? It’s on the bedside . . . table,” said Mason as he fell into unconsciousness.

Veripema smiled triumphantly. She was just going to get the book and leave, but she decided against it. She picked Mason up in her arms and swiftly carried him up the stairs. She pulled back his blankets and set him down.

The book was on the bedside table like he said, and she picked it up while scribbling a note. Before she left through the open window, she stepped in front of Mason and bent down, kissing his forehead. When she left, he had red lipstick on it.


Dear Mason,
Thank you for the book. I will never forget the memories that you have given me. You will always be in my heart.
Sincerely,
Veronica.