Short Story Sunday: Sunday Morning Coffee

Andrew stood in the doorway with a cup of coffee in each hand.

“Rise and shine,” he said to the darkened living room.

On the couch lay his friend John, arms and legs around a woman who was laying on top of John. John said he was in love with this one. God knows how many times Andrew had heard John say that. At least she was like them. What was her name? Olive? Yolanda? Olivia. Her name was Olivia. Like in “Twelfth Night.” Olivia.

Andrew liked Olivia, in her little black dress and her dishwater blonde hair that came down to her waist. The girl could talk and certainly made everyone laugh with her stories and commentaries. She was pretty too. A smart pretty girl was just what John needed. It was what most guys needed for that matter.  John had done well considering he was such a jerk most of the time.

Olivia opened one eye, then the other and smiled. “Good morning sweetheart,” she said to Andy as she crawled off of John. “Let him sleep for a while. He needs it.”

She came up to Andrew, taking one of the cups of coffee from his hand. “Thank you. I really need it this morning.”

“So I take it you haven’t been a Vampire for centuries,” asked Andrew. “I don’t mean to be rude. You just have a freshness to you.”

“1982, a year after I graduated from college. I’d been fired from three jobs. My love life sucked. I hated my life. Then I went out one night and met a guy. It wasn’t like a guy I would sleep with. We just talked. He offered me a job. Then he offered me something else. And that is how I became a Vampire and became the confident successful woman I am today. How about you?”

“I was born into it.”

“Wow, that is so rare.”

“Exactly. I know,” said Andrew. He liked Olivia. Doing the math in his head he figured she was maybe 55 or 56 years old. Oh so young.

He asked her about her life and listened over multiple cups of coffee as she told him her tale. She’d grown up the seventh of nine children in Philadelphia. Her parents were good people but like so many of their generation they’d smoked themselves to death. Her brothers and sisters dispersed. She went to California for college then floundered. One night, at a dark low point her life, she met an interesting man who turned her into a Vampire. From there she moved to Alaska, then ended up in Seattle and eventually back to Northern California.

“I bought the winery before it was overly popular. The owner was retiring and so now I have a hundred and three acres of grapes, an a nice little winery. I even design my own labels,” she told him.

Like most with most Vampires, being self-employed is usually the best route to go.

“How’d you meet John?” Andrew had to ask. He’d been friends with John since they were kids. He’d been the one to convert him into a Vampire in 1872.

“At a party. As soon as I saw him I knew there was something special about him. Of course the fact that we’re both Vampires is a big plus. Do you mind if I use your shower? I have some more clothes in the car.”

Andrew showed her one of the guest rooms with its own bath. As he walked back downstairs he thought about Olivia. Nothing about this woman was mysterious. She was an open book.

After a few minutes she came back downstairs wrapped in a towel. Her hair was dry.

“Um, Andrew, there is blood all over the shower stall. The drain looks kind of clogged. Do you have another bathroom I can use.”

“Sorry, try the bathroom at the end of the hall. You’ll like it better. I have a towel warmer in there.”

“Thanks,” she said. And with a wink and a smile Olivia ran back up the stairs.

Olivia certainly was cute. He hoped it would work out between her and John.

In the meantime, he grabbed a bucket and the mom, along with a gallon of bleach. It was a good dinner party last night. He couldn’t wait until the next one.







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