Laura met me in the lobby of Burnsville's Fairview Ridges just before suppertime the next day. "This was perfect since I was already volunteering here this week," she told me, adjusting the collar of her volunteer smock.
I groaned. "You're the worst Antichrist ever."
"They normally only let college students volunteer in the summer, but Mrs. Greeley said I did such a good job, I could come during the holiday break, too."
I put my hand on my forehead like I was an undead psychic. "You're majoring in religion with a minor in... let me see... social work. Right?"
"Not once I switch majors to philosophy," she said with a dignified sniff.
"Thanks for setting me straight." Ridges was pretty nice as hospitals went. Nobody was screaming, anyway. The place smelled more like flowers and less like antiseptic. Maybe that should be more worrying. Not to me, though; I always hated the sting-ey smell and since I had the nose of a thousand bloodhounds, places like hospitals made me very nervous. Give me a hospital more greenhouse than surgery drive-thru any day. I could hardly make out the blood over the poinsettias. "You want to go see Jess with me?"
"Already did," she replied brightly. "The babies are so cute! She told me they're keeping the three of them at least one more day, but you know it's so they can pitch her for a donation to the new birth center. And Dick's been running around handing out bubble-gum cigars!"
"Adorable. Walk with me."
"You want to talk here?" She fell into step beside me, eyeing the other visitors meandering through the lobby and in and out of the hallways. "About... about stuff we need to talk about?"
"Safe as houses," I assured her. "Most people here are too wrapped up in their own problems to care about what two random blondes are babbling about. The ones who aren't-what are they gonna do? Grab a roving shrink and tell them two random blondes they've never seen before are talking about vampires and the devil and, jeepers, they were here just a minute ago so somebody should do something? If they could convince anyone and track us down-with who and for what I've got no idea-we're not exactly gonna rush to corroborate their story. Also: nobody cares, Laura. I promise."
She still looked doubtful, but shrugged and started walking through the lobby with me. "Are you thirsty? More than usual?"
"No worries. Stopped at Caribou and quaffed two large half white chocolate, half milk chocolate hot chocolates. I'm feeling a little sloshy inside, but I'm good for now."
We walked in silence for a minute. I couldn't speak for my sis, but I was basking, lizardlike, in the greenhouse effect. Big glass windows + winter sunshine = mmm, toasty. Sure, we were wrecking the planet, but at least we'd be warm. Laura broke my surprisingly contemplative silence with, "I'm glad you made it back okay."
"That's my cue to snap 'no thanks to you, bee-yotch!' except nobody says bee-yotch anymore, so I'll just stick with 'no thanks to you' and that'll be that."
"Er... yeah."
"Don't bother." She'd been peeking at my feet and I couldn't help being amused. "The silver shoes disappeared between Naw and Other Naw showing up in the world. I've got no idea where they went-back to the hellfog, maybe." Or maybe not. I was pretty sure I could make them appear just by thinking about them. And I was pretty sure that a few months from now, or weeks or days, I wouldn't need them to go back and forth. But that was for me to know. For now, anyway.
"I hope you understand why I left you there. If I wanted you to truly understand, I didn't have any choice but to-"
"Don't!" I said it so sharply a few other visitors in the hall looked up. I did the patented Minnesota Nice Apologetic Head Dip and Shoulder Shrug, and they went back to their business, and I went back to mine. "I hate 'I had no choice.' D'you know why?" At Laura's head shake, I continued. "It's always a lie. Just because the choices other than the one you want to go with are bad doesn't make them nonexistent. 'I had no choice' always, always translates to 'I had two choices, but one sucked. So really, I had no choice. Except I did.' So it's fine that you decided to ditch me-okay, not fine, but you know what I mean-but at least own that. Don't go with the anthem of the pathetic, 'I had no choice.' Because you absolutely did have a choice, every step of the way. You just didn't like most of them."
"All right. So. I chose to leave you there. And I hope you know I was never going to leave you there forever. But what I don't understand-"
"Because this is all about answering your questions." I heard the acid and decided to dial it back. If the point of our meeting was to show each other our claws, I could have done it over the phone or, even better, via bitchy e-mail. "Sorry. Go ahead." Wow, for a second there it was like I didn't have a choice! Except I did.
"Why didn't you tell me your..."
She trailed off, and though it could have been any one of a dozen unfinished thoughts, I took a stab that it was the big reveal.
"Why didn't I tell you Sinclair could go to church? Can sing Christmas carols?" Oh boy, could he. And as much as Sinclair loved church? He loved Christmas and everything about it a hundred times more. I've never had sex while my lover was singing "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas" before. Erotically surreal doesn't begin to cover it. "Can freely wander a mall without fearing his ears will implode from Christmas Muzak? Although that's a risk everyone takes this time of year."
"Yes! Why didn't you? Why didn't the both of you shout it from the rooftops? Betsy, that's so huge!" She'd seized my arm in her excitement and-yow! The Antichrist needed a mani in the worst way. Long and unpolished and jagged. It was like being grabbed by a blond wolverine sporting a volunteer smock. "You should have seen him. No fear, and he was so-so happy to be there! I could see him bathing in the light of God's love."
"Okay." Bathing? In love? Hyperbole much? Wait, was that right? Either way, she was happy for him and I was glad to see it. "The reason I didn't tell you-didn't tell anyone-is because Sinclair asked me not to. He wanted to keep it between us for a while. But I was bound to tell you sooner or later, because it kind of leads into my point about your mom wanting to die and how I'm kind of the victim again."
She shook her head and, even better, removed her daggerlike nails from my arm's tender underside. Ah! Ouchie! "I don't understand."
"Then here it is again. The devil granted me one wish. She didn't do it because she was afraid of me and she didn't do it to hurt me-it wasn't a Monkey's Paw kind of wish. Why would she do that if not to do something nice for someone who was going to give her what she wanted?"
Laura didn't say anything.
"I didn't even know what to ask for at first. It's not like I lie awake in the morning trying to think of what I'd ask for if Satan granted me a wish. Plus, she gave me a time limit! That was soooo her. Anyway, after her insistence that I play beat the clock in Hell, I managed to come up with something. And it was a close call between getting something for Sinclair or bringing back my beloved Christian..." But I couldn't talk about that without worrying about bawling in the Fairview hallways while the Antichrist patted my shoulder. "But I didn't wish he could go outside and work on his tan. I wished he could bear the light."
She frowned, thinking it over. "Any light? So even... the light of God's love?"
"Ask the guy who plays Christmas carols in our bathroom now." Not that vampires had much use for bathrooms. But I still liked to make sure my layered eye shadow looked as terrific as possible. And we showered together. Now we showered together while he belted out "All I really want for Christmas..." in his soapy baritone. I... I don't understand why my life is like this now.
"But we were talking about wishes, and Satan, and how she's dead now. I think we decided before my vacay in the hellfog that I wasn't going to apologize for killing your mom."
"Yes. And during your vacay I explained to the vampire king that I wouldn't apologize for your vacay."
"Now look at that! We're agreeing on so much already." I smiled, and I guess it wasn't a very nice one because the corners of her mouth turned down. I reminded myself that I wasn't here to score points. If you've ever had to keep your mouth in park and your temper under control, it's probably now. It's also been other times. Learn, dammit! Learn from your thousands of mistakes! "I thought you had some good points amid all the whining and shrillness."
She snorted. "Sure you did."
"About what's fair and what's not. I thought about it and you're right. Your situation is unacceptable." Oh boy. Was I gonna do it? The vague idea I'd formed between Thanksgiving 1.0 and 2.0, the notion that solidified in the hellfog, the thing that was about to come out of my mouth... I was about to change my life-again-and not just mine. Everyone's life, and I wasn't going to take a vote or pretend to be interested in what the others would think. "Totally unacceptable."
"Thank you for that." Laura grinned. "Did I get that out without whining or shrillness?"
"Yeah. Remember, practice makes perfect. Anyway, I'll help you."
Wow. I was-was I? Yep. I really was doing this. I'd have some explaining to do when I got home. I hadn't told Sinclair what I was going to do, but he knew my mind and hadn't tried to talk me out of it. He hadn't insisted on coming with me, either. I'd like to credit that to the strength of our marriage, but I think it was more about the postcoital coma I'd left him in.
She groaned and covered her eyes. "And now you're going to ruin it with one of your bitchy-yeah, that's right, I said bitchy-one of your bitchy asides."
"I'll help you run Hell. I mean, take the hellfog and turn it back into Hell and then help you run Hell." I'm sorry. I made the mess. I've got to clean it up, no matter what it means for our marriage and our future and even our-groan-kingdom. How could I always think of what to say when the person in question wasn't anywhere near me? This, also, was something I probably shouldn't spend a lot of time pondering.
"This!" More visitors were looking, and Laura didn't care. "This is what I don't like about you!"
"To be fair, there are lots of things you don't like about me."
"It's all a joke. For you there's a hilarious side to everything, and if not, you just hide behind your ignorance. 'Hey, guys, I didn't know better, can't help being a moron and now I'm off to another midnight madness simple sale.'"
"Sample."
"I know." She was screaming in the middle of a hospital, which is better than screaming in the middle of a library. I probably shouldn't have blown off her suggestion that we talk about this somewhere else. "I was being sarcastic!"
"Okay, but you suck at it. Listen again: I'll help you run Hell. Everything you said is right. I created the problem and it's shitty to leave it in your lap while I traipse off to a simple sale."
I glared around at the looky-loos until they fled in a restrained Minnesota Nice manner, which is to say they slowly turned and walked away while murmuring in low voices to themselves that we should be ashamed while not addressing our rudeness directly. I was distracted from their restrained fleeing by the Antichrist saying in a small voice, "It's sample. Sample sales."
"Right. Sorry. Thanks for correcting me."
"If you're joking I'll-I'll do something awful. Burn you or-or kill someone. Something. I'll do something."
"I know." I reached out a hand and took one of hers, except it was a fist. So I patted her fist. "I'm sorry about your mom."
Too little too late, I figured. Laura would see it as a half-assed Band-Aid when it should have been a full-on life support system. (My analogies had never sucked more.) But I could at least put it out there. Worst case, Laura would-actually, there were so many worst-case scenarios, so many hideous things Laura could do to me or mine, I couldn't even think of them all. Which was too bad for me.
So I braced myself as best I could, but was still unprepared when one of the things I couldn't think of happened: the Antichrist burst into tears.