“Bourbon milk punch for dessert, anyone?” To heck with the consommé. I needed liquor. I looked around the table, waiting for replies.
Jefferson and Alex both nodded, so I turned to Mallory with my hostess mask firmly in place. “It’s made with almond milk, darling. Would you like some?”
She was pinching her lips together, something I recognized from her childhood. She used to do that when she had a secret. This could not be good. Not if there was still more to tell.
How did one have one’s child committed? Maybe Alex would know. He worked in that field, didn’t he? Although—I peeked at Alex and Wembley from under my lashes as I pretended to fold my napkin. They both looked much too sanguine, given Mallory’s revelation. Were they involved somehow with her delusion?
“Wembley’s a vampire, too!” Mallory blurted, then blushed a fiery red and mouthed, “I’m sorry,” to Wembley.
Group delusion? Prank? They were all on drugs right now?
I set my napkin to the side of my barely touched fondue. “I’ll just go fetch those drinks, why don’t I?”
For the life of me, I couldn’t meet a single eye in the room. I slipped out of my seat and made a hasty retreat to the kitchen.
I loved my kitchen. It was a place where I was in control. It was modern and tidy. The fixtures gleamed. Everything had its proper place.
Where was the proper place for a daughter who thought she was a vampire?
And didn’t vampires drink blood? Maybe those were last-century vampires. Maybe the vampires of today were juicers, hence Mallory’s liquid diet preferences.
I retrieved a tea towel and my lavender water. After liberally spritzing the towel, I sat down at the kitchen table, leaned back, and covered my entire face with the scented towel. I just needed a moment of lavender-imbued silence to contemplate the situation.
I wasn’t hiding. A good hostess would never hide from her guests.
Several slow and measured breaths later, I removed the towel. I was hiding, and it was lovely. But I couldn’t hide forever, I had guests.
I needed to approach this problem in a calm and logical fashion.
Set up an evaluation for Mallory with…who was that man that Suzanne’s other daughter, not the vegan one, started to see when she had her breakdown? Dr. Dinmeyer? Or was it Dinmann? Whoever, Suzanne swore by the man. I’d get his information from her after Christmas. But what to do today? Now?
And with relief, I realized I knew exactly what to do. I’d told my guests I was fetching drinks, and that was exactly what I would do.
For the moment, I needed to prepare those drinks. I could work on the problem as I prepped. I snuck a sip, then another. Maybe things would look better after I just finished off this one drink.
When a strategy didn’t present itself after I’d finished my second milk punch, I decided that additional information was required. I needed to find out if my daughter was dangerous. How far from reality had she stepped, and what were these delusions pushing her to do?
Maybe it was all quite harmless, like a personality quirk. Great-Auntie Lula had always been a bit eccentric, and while there had been whispers, she certainly had never been committed…so far as I knew.
Or maybe it was a lifestyle choice. This was the twenty-first century, and embracing different lifestyles was what one did. Vampirism didn’t seem to quite fit that category, but I hardly kept up with all the latest trends.
Drinks prepared and my third milk punch long gone, I headed back to the dining room with my investigative hat on and the drinks tray in my hands. As I passed the lavender-scented tea towel on my way out, I gave it a final wistful glance.
I’d wanted to know what was happening with my daughter. And now that I knew, I was glad. Not that she’d lost her grip with reality, of course, but glad that the problem was out in the open. We could start to deal with it.
Or not.
Because the dining room was empty when I returned. Empty. As in, no guests present. They weren’t all just crackers, they were heathens.
Should I look for the wayward bunch of vampires? Except Alex hadn’t been slapped with the label. Mallory had only indicated Jefferson in her group delusion. Alex had gone along with it, but…
Oh, I was tired. I was too old to keep up with the trends kids followed these days. That was my last hope, that this was some kind of trend. Otherwise, I didn’t see any other way. Mallory would have to be committed.
And then they trooped back in the room, the whole lot of them—and an extra one.
“Hello?” I rose to my feet in dismay. This small family event had just completely spiraled out of control. Strangers were appearing uninvited at the dinner table.
The tiny blond woman was wearing an appalling Christmas sweater and a very put-upon expression. “I’m sorry to intrude, but these idiots seem to have created an unpleasant situation”—she turned to glare at the threesome—“and thought I might be able to help.”
My eyebrows climbed. “Are you a vampire as well?”
She hesitated then said firmly, “No.”
A whoosh of relief swept through me. Small favors. Now if she’d just explain what she was doing in my home—
A hopeful look crossed her face when she saw the drinks. “Is that milk punch?”
“Yes, with bourbon,” I replied with my best hostess smile. Even uninvited strangers should be made to feel welcome—at least, that seemed best until I sorted out who she was and what exactly she was doing in my home. “It’s the vegan variety. Would you like a glass?” When she seemed unsure, I prompted her to have a seat. “Please. Mallory will fetch you a glass.”
Mallory didn’t hesitate. It was like she grew wings, she was gone so quickly.
Before seating herself, the woman said, “My name is Star, ah, Stephanie Kawolski, and it’s kind of you to have me. Especially so unexpectedly.” She shot Wembley and Alex a nasty look.
Once I sat down, Alex and Wembley both took their seats again. “So, why are you here, Stephanie? I’m sure you have Christmas plans of your own.” I glanced at the sweater.
She glanced down and grinned. “A gift from my children. I’ve actually already eaten dinner with my family. With small children, we schedule early, so I was just wrapping up when these buffoons called me.”
“So why are you here?” I asked.
Stephanie looked at Alex. “Yes, Alex. Explain to the very kind woman why I’ve gate-crashed her quiet family evening.”
Except it was Wembley who spoke. “She’s here just in case things go amiss. We wanted to be sure that someone who was especially gifted at…ah, counseling was on hand if you didn’t take things well.”
This woman was no counselor.
“What in the world are you up to, Jefferson? What have you gotten my daughter involved in?”
He raised his hands. “I met her afterward. She was already—”
“I was already a vampire when Wembley met me, Mom.” Mallory entered the dining room and placed Stephanie’s drink in front of her. “They’re quite good. Mom found a great milk substitute.”
With a quick, sweeping glance, I found that Stephanie seemed unsurprised by the announcement, Alex was watching me like a hawk—what did the man think I might do?—and Jefferson…Jefferson was so immersed in this fiasco that I wasn’t sure I cared what he was doing.
A vampire—what would that man come up with next? I blinked at him. Looked again. Blinked. “Jefferson, are those fangs?”