Short Story Sunday: Father Paul

She remembered when he was just in high school. His family lived next door in an old ranch house with a rabbit warren of added on rooms. There were six Jackson kids. Paul was the peacemaker, the child of compassion, and the smartest of the bunch. He went to the local all boys’ Catholic high school then on to get a doctorate in theology and the priesthood.

Elizabeth never questioned his faith or his decision to enter the priesthood. There would be those who would question what they could not understand. Paul just took it as part of the job.

In turn Paul never questioned Elizabeth. He certainly asked questions but never judged. He just accepted what neither one of them could change. Nor did he ask her if she was afraid of eternal damnation of her soul or her life in the shadows.

Now years after they met they sat together. At the age of 54 his hair was turning gray and crows feet crinkled at the edges of his eyes when he laughed. At 195 years she looked the same as the day he met her in 1975 – a beautiful vision for any young man, including the teenage Paul.

The two old friends walked along the path in the oak forest together. Elizabeth took Paul’s arm.

“You always accepted me as I am. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that.”

“Same here.”

“Stop.” She then embraced him. It was a warm day but her embrace was like ice to him. “I mean it Paul.”

He never used the word Vampire when he thought of her. She was what she was. Maybe a creature of evil but he didn’t know that for sure. Sure she drank the blood of others but that was nothing compared to some of the evil he’d seen in the world. At the same time he feared for his own soul when he was with her but he couldn’t resist. It wasn’t romantic or sexual at all. She’d always been there for him, unconditional. But that wasn’t it. She drew him in as if she was the only one who knew his heart and soul – as if she owned him.

Elizabeth let him go and then gave him a knowing smile. “I understand it is sometimes trying to have your own Vampire. You handle it well. Oh, yes, by the way, I’m having a party next weekend. You know, just cocktails and finger food. I want you to meet my boyfriend Austin. He is like you, not a priest, but warm, like you. You know what I mean. Forbidden love. Who would have thought. But you know how that is.”

“Uh, sure. A boyfriend? Sure. Will Vampires be there?”

“Of course. No worries. You know most of them.”

Paul was waiting for lightning to strike but it never did – never with Elizabeth.

 

 

To be continued….

This is the 14th story in the Austin and Elizabeth (The Hunter) series. For more on the Austin and Elizabeth Stories – the complete set CLICK HERE. 

 

Dead or Alive

After writing my previous post Religion and Ramblings (in speed post mode) I thought about this story about Vampires, romance, and maybe a little bit of faith.

Dead or Alive
A Vampire Romance

By Juliette Kings

1886

“What a bunch of idiots,” Jamie said to himself as he watched a mob of men run down the road brandishing knives and guns they didn’t even know how to use. They wouldn’t dare use them. Well, maybe they would – that is why Jamie had to hide. Now he was all dressed up with no place to go.

Now what? Maybe a trip to his favorite opium den for an easy meal or a trip to Madam Rosanna’s for a drink with one of her girls. At least the girls were clean and pretty, but the rush of opium infused blood sounded good right now.

Jamie ended up back home to change his bloody shirt. He knew his housekeeper would be able to get the stains out but it still annoyed him.

As he grabbed a new shirt out of the wardrobe the smell of jasmine and roses gently made him smile. He turned around.

“Belinda. What a delight.” She was indeed a delight but he didn’t expect to see her, not here in his house, much less in his bedroom.

The delicious sight in a silk green dress smiled and sat on his bed. “Your housekeeper let me in. I don’t think she approves but then again…” she didn’t finish her sentence but just laughed.

James brushed his lips across hers then slid his fangs across the side of her neck. “She doesn’t approve of you because she doesn’t know you.” His mouth went to Belinda’s again.

“You taste like blood,” she whispered.

“You taste like death darling Belinda.” Jamie took her hand and pulled her up. “I’m getting dressed. Let’s go out.”

They passed into the darkness outside, arm in arm, laughing quietly at their private jokes.

Maybe they’d go to the whore house or the opium den. Maybe they’d go to a musical revue or drop by and see friends. Anything was possible. Together, Jamie and Belinda always had a way of making everything fun – at least fun for them.

They decided on the theater but stopped in front of one of the larger churches in the center of the city. A bride and groom happily rode in their carriage to start a new life together. The bride was dressed in innocent white. The groom was happy and handsome.

Jamie and Belinda stood, arm in arm, and looked upon the happy couple.

“That could have been us,” said Belinda.

“We don’t deserve that kind of happiness,” said Jamie, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Why not? We could get married. We could be happy Jamie.”

“Oh darling, you’d drive me crazy. I’d have to kill you.”

“I’m already dead. Well, sort of dead.”

And under the gaslights by the church Jamie kissed Belinda. “Dead or alive, I love you Belinda. I always have. I always will.”

A cold tear ran down Belinda’s cheek. Jamie led her into the empty church and up to the alter. “Belinda, will you love me and stay with me always?”

“Jamie, will you love me and stay with me always?”

“I suppose,” said Jamie.

“Aren’t we supposed to talk about till death do us part?” Belinda asked quietly.

“I didn’t think about that,” said Jamie.

“You wouldn’t now James would you?” She called him by his proper name, the way she thought a wife would.

They left the church and headed back to Jamie’s place. Over a glass of wine they made uncomfortable small talk.

“Will you stay the night Belinda?” He had to ask.

“If you’ll have me. Oh Jamie, we’re so awful. We really are. There has to be more.”

He thought about it for about a second. “Not really. We are what we are. We are who we are.”

Then he took her hand and led her back up to his room.

In the morning the world came alive, but they continued their sleep, wrapped in each other’s cold dead arms, as alive as they knew how to be.

~ end

Religion and Ramblings

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Religion and Ramblings of a Vampire Maman

Oh ye of little faith… or a lot. I don’t care either way.

In my daughter’s high school about a quarter of the kids are Mormon. Another quarter are Catholic. The next quarter go to the big Presbyterian Church. A handful go to the Jewish synagogue, a few go to the other big box holy roller church, and the rest are just kind of on their own, or nothing. There are a lot more nothings than atheists. Then there are the tiny groups who are Muslim and Buddhists and other faiths.

According to my child the Mormon kids don’t try to convert the 3/4 who are Catholic or Presbyterian. They go for the others.

I bring this up because last night we saw The Book of Mormon. It was great. If you have a chance go see it.

I need to write a disclaimer that we love our Mormon friends and respect their choices. We are not haters. We don’t care about your faith of choice as long as it works for you and you aren’t hurting anyone (including yourself). Nuff said.

OK there are a few exceptions of weird ass groups that have no more business calling themselves a religion. As we passed one of their buildings downtown last night one of my companions said, “the are so evil.”

Your religion is your own, just keep it out of the schools and out of politics. That is why we’re in America. Don’t forget it.

And then there are the Vampires. At the high school there are exactly a dozen right now. For kicks and grins thrown in the four Werewolf kids at the school. This school has a huge population of paranormal types. We tend to try to stick together. It just makes things easier for the kids to have someone like themselves in their classes. Hey, it isn’t like they’re going to talk to the other kids about their unique biology and spiritual issues.

I was talking to my friend Marla who occasionally helps me with this blog. She explained some of the inspiration for her latest book Exceptional Liars.

I had a conversation with a friend about some of the families at the church we went to when we were growing up. It was one of the big churches everyone belonged to. It was one, and still is, one of the hubs of the community. My parents weren’t all that involved, which was fine with me.

But there were families where church and religion was the center of the universe. Their priorities were: 1. church/god, 2. Marriage, 3. Dad’s job, 4. Church society, 5. Children. Unfortunately five seemed to be a distant number. These parents bragged about how God and marriage came before everything else. Even as a teenager I knew that was wrong.

Their children were usually popular, good in school, involved with church activities, and they were the first to sneak off to smoke pot or make out in the back of a car. They knew more about sex, drugs and not getting caught at anything than other teenagers. When the kids were caught misbehaving punishment was swift, often including banishment. Obedience to God, church and parents was paramount. Fortunately for most of these kid they never did get caught. 

My book started out with a weak main character. She was sensitive and naive, but that wasn’t any fun. Why not make her the kind of nasty, clannish, resentful, sneaky kid that came out of these families in real life.

I added narcissistic parents, incestuous and violent siblings, an abusive Christian marriage counselor husband, a serial killer, a couple of slick and twisted layers, a crazy former DEA agent, the abused roller skating ex-husband of a pop-star, a hit man turned divorce lawyer, a guitar maker, and the bisexual wife of a senator who just wanted to be left alone.

Religion is scattered throughout the book, but it isn’t a religious book. But the characters, at least two of them, do what works for them.”

 

I like books with religious references. I think it adds mystery and interest to books if it isn’t preachy or “Sunday schoolish,” or overly sentimental with a forced unrealistic message. Religion and faith also adds conflict and interest for the characters. Two of my favorites are The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco and The Di Vinci Code by Dan Brown. Both stories wound religion into mystery and intrigue. It was fun to figure out the clues and see the conflicting views of the characters.

Movies have comedic, romantic, and chilling takes on the subject. My favorites (and most highly recommended are Elmer Gantry, The Devil’s Disciple (the play or the movie), Night of the Hunter, and Heaven Knows Mr. Allison.

In my line of work, I know those who have come face-to-face with Lucky (the Devil) and had run ins with both angels and demons.

I know Vampires who fight with their own inner demons about the state of their souls and their own jacked up immortality. They sit quietly, in the backs of churches, or quietly walk in cemeteries looking for comfort, or answers to questions that have gone unanswered for centuries. Sometimes they’re just looking for a bit of redemption. Or sometimes they just go for the music.

Vampires rarely pray, not knowing who might be on the other end waiting, or listening in. We’re always on the outside when it comes to religion. But most of us are content in knowing our own hearts, even if those hearts don’t beat as often or as loud as those of the rest of the population.

We are spiritual because we live among the spirits, good or bad.

And as you already know, Vampires are big on holidays. We do love our holidays.

As a parent I teach my children to be good and good to others. There is no use in judging those who are not like us, if they’re good people. We all must find our own peace. Some will never find peace even though they spend half of their life inside of a cathedral surrounded by icons and commandments.

I find my peace in the woods. When I’m in an art museum I see the power of what it means to be alive, even in a Vampire sort of way.

As Matthew (6.6) said, “When you pray, you are not to be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and on the street corners so that they may be seen by men. Truly I say to you, they have their reward in full. But you, when you pray, go into your inner room, close your door and pray.”

I’m not religious but I now my verses. I take what I need and leave the rest, like most Vampires, at least those who think about these things.

Anyway, I’m starting to ramble.

Peace be with you. Wishing you beauty and joy, and the cool quiet of the shadows.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

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Exceptional Liars will be free on Amazon through March 20. CLICK here for the link. If you like it leave a nice review.

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We’re Not so Different

I’m continuing the Vampire Maman Christmas Story Fest with this tale from my friend Mandy White. “We’re Not so Different” can also be found in the WPaD anthology Tinsel Tales.

We’re Not so Different

By Mandy White

My daughter was clearly upset when she arrived home from school. Crystal tossed her pink, sparkly book bag into the corner and gave it a kick.
“Bad day, honey?” I asked.
She didn’t answer at first. Instead, she ducked her chin and pouted as only a twelve-year-old can.
I waited. Finally she looked at me.
“Is it true?” she demanded.
“Is what true, sweetie?”
“That we’re going to Hell?”
“What? Where on Earth did you get that idea?”
Crystal mumbled something unintelligible.
“Pardon me?”
“Becky Bullock! I hate her so much!” she ranted. “Just because her father’s a minister she acts like she’s God and treats everyone else like dirt!”
“Now, I hardly believe God would treat anyone like dirt, honey. Come here and talk to me.” I sat on the sofa, shoving aside a pile of towels I had been folding so she could sit beside me. Crystal plopped into the cushion, arms folded, glaring at the wall across the room.
“Why exactly does Becky think we are going to Hell and she is not?” I asked her. I suspected I already knew the answer, but I wanted to hear it from her classmate’s perspective as well as hers.
“Because of my report,” she said.
“Your report?”
“Yeah, we were all supposed to do an essay about holiday traditions and I did mine about the Christmas tree. I didn’t know the stupid teacher was going to make us read them in front of the class.”
I nodded knowingly. I saw where this was going. “Go on,” I prompted.
“So anyway, my essay was about the Christmas tree, and how it’s Pagan in origin. Like the story Grandma told us, about how in the old days it was a custom to bring a live tree inside the house to symbolize life and good luck and all that junk.”
“You actually said it that way?” I laughed.
“Not really,” she went to her book bag and withdrew a crumpled piece of paper and handed it to me.
I relaxed into the cushions to read the essay. I was impressed; it was quite good. Crystal explained how ancient Pagans believed evergreen trees had the power of eternal life because they stayed green through the dead of winter. During the winter Solstice, the darkest day of the year, they adorned their homes with the boughs of evergreens in hopes that the magic of the trees would bring the sun back for another year. It was said that the ‘sun was born’ during the Solstice. Feasts and celebrations were also held during this time to keep people’s spirits high and fend off the starvation that threatened during the lean months.
It was clear that Crystal’s depiction of the pre-Christian roots of some holiday traditions had offended her classmate, who had no doubt learned a different story in her household.
“So, at lunchtime Becky and a bunch of her snotty friends corner me and start teasing me, telling me that my whole family is going to Hell. ‘Jesus is the reason for the season!’ she says to me. Then she starts calling me a witch and a Satanist and a h-heretic!” Crystal sniffled and began to cry.
“What did you say to them?” I asked.
“I called them a bunch of assholes and then I ran away.” She peeked warily up at me from beneath tearstained eyelashes, checking to see if she was in trouble.
I burst out laughing. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help myself. The mental picture of Little Becky Bible-Thumper and her friends’ faces after my daughter called them assholes just wouldn’t leave, and try as I might, I couldn’t help cracking up. That’s my girl, I thought. Your Great-Grandmamma would have been proud.
“That wasn’t very nice of you to say that. And it wasn’t nice of them to make fun of you either,” I told Crystal, who had begun to giggle through her tears at my reaction. “But, you could have gotten yourself in trouble. Remember the old saying, ‘two wrongs don’t make a right’. Becky is entitled to her beliefs just as much as you are.”
“But Mom!” Crystal insisted, “She doesn’t have to be mean about it!”
“No, she doesn’t,” I agreed. I put my arm around my daughter and cuddled her close. “You remember all the stories Grandma used to tell? The ones about her ancestors?”
Crystal nodded. “Yeah, that’s where I got the one about the tree stuff.”
“Well, then you also remember that our family lineage goes way, way back, to long before Christianity was even thought of. Our kind has been through happy times, and there have been dark times as well. Many of our ancestors were persecuted by the church and burned at the stake for things as trivial as practicing herbal medicine, or for voicing their own beliefs, much as you did today.”
“Which is why they’re a bunch of assholes!” Crystal said.
“From your perspective, it may seem that way. Try to think outside the box for a moment. Christians have also been persecuted for their beliefs in the past. Jesus was executed for the ideals he taught. Look at the Jewish people, and think of all that they have been through, or the Native Americans. No matter which culture, which religion you look at, you will find some point at which those people were victimized because their beliefs were different from someone else’s.”
“So everyone gets bullied, no matter what they believe, then. That doesn’t make it right.” Crystal observed.
“No, it doesn’t. It’s not a question of right or wrong, good or evil. From our own personal perspective, each of us is right, and the Creator has given us many paths to choose from. What’s great about the times we live in is that we are no longer in fear of being slaughtered for our beliefs. Neither is Becky Bullock’s family, or Jimmy Goldberg’s. We live in a time when a Wiccan child like you can learn in the same classroom as Becky, Jimmy, and all the other children who come from different cultures and backgrounds. Opinions will always differ, but if God is perfect, as Becky’s father teaches, then all must be right in the Universe.”
“So how am I supposed to deal with Becky next time she calls me a Satanist? Put a hex on her, or just punch her in the eye?” Crystal asked.
“Neither!” I laughed. “What you put out there is what you will get back, threefold. To quote your grandmother, ‘Remember ye the law of three. For what ye do comes back to thee’. Or, to put it in terms Becky might understand, ‘Ask, and ye shall receive’. So, to answer your question, if you approach a situation expecting disharmony, you will encounter disharmony. If you go into it intending harmony, then that is what you will get back. Somebody famous once said, ‘Peace is achieved through understanding, not conflict.’ Remember that Becky is not so different from you. She deserves to be treated with the same tolerance for her beliefs that you expect for yours.”
“Fat lot you know about bullies, Mom. The whole, ‘walk away’ thing doesn’t always work. I may still have to punch her in the face, just warning you.”
“If walking away doesn’t work, then ask her how Jesus would have handled the situation. That might make her stop and think. You think about it too. How do you think Jesus have reacted?”
Crystal shrugged. “I guess Jesus would have turned the other cheek. Isn’t that what the Bible says? To love your enemies and stuff like that?”
“Exactly. Treat others with compassion, even those who oppose you. It’s what my mother taught me, and what I’ve always told you. Our beliefs are not much different from what Jesus taught.”
“But I don’t love Becky! I can’t stand her! She’s just so… mean to everyone. Especially me.”
“You don’t have to be her best friend or anything. All I’m saying is, think before you react. Negative reactions won’t result in peace. If that doesn’t work… well, be sure to ask your teachers for some homework if you get expelled.”
“Becky might get expelled, too,” Crystal commented, a hint of hope in her voice.
“See? I told you, you aren’t so different from each other.”
We giggled and snuggled on the sofa. The Christmas tree sparkled in the corner, the angel at the top smiling down at us as we gazed out the window at the falling snow.
Copyright © 2013 Mandy White

 

Thank you Mandy!

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

Tinsel Tales download is now available for only $0.99. Part of the proceeds will go to MS Research. Click here.
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My Wish to You, Parenting, Faith and Christmas Memories (a post in 4 parts with my famous bulleted lists)

Please Santa bring me some fangs...

Please Santa bring me some fangs…

Part 1: My Wish To You

Some wish for peace on Earth. For years I wished for peace in my own family but I’ve given up. Enough of that least I get a headache that will last until after the end of the year.

I’ve wished for peace and quiet. But I have other wishes for all of my friends, especially my dear blogging friend who have provided me with so much good fun, thoughtful words and smart posts of all kinds.

  • I wish you never suffer with Trolls – those horrible negative creatures who stalk bloggers and other folks online.
  • I wish you no SPAM.
  • I wish you a creative flow that can’t be stopped.
  • I wish you good humor.
  • I wish you never be caught in a dead end alley with a pissed off Vampire.
  • I wish you success – whatever YOUR idea of success is (not somebody elses’ idea of success.)
  • I wish you good chocolate.
  • I wish you sweet dreams.
  • I wish you all the joy that you can stand.
  • I wish you good friends, cats who behave and dogs who don’t sniff in private places.
  • I wish that you will be bitten by the creative bug and not fleas or Werewolves (Unless you’re writing about Werewolves. I’m not going to even address the issue of writing about fleas.)
  • I wish you peace.
  • I wish you peace.
  • I wish you peace.

 

Part 2: Rules for Parenting (this is important)

  • Talk to your child. Engage with your child. Even if your child isn’t talking yet – TALK to and with your children.
  • Small children are loud and active. It doesn’t mean they need drugs or spankings. They need space to be themselves. They’ll grow out of the loudness and learn to sit still. It is your job to guide them and let them know when it is ok to be loud and ok to be frisky.
  • Teach your kid manners. Manners are a must. Insist on it. Your children are not the center of the universe and they should not think that. Period. Then need to learn that there are consequences to rude and bad behavior.
  • Encourage your child to laugh.
  • Encourage imagination.
  • Encourage active play and exploration.
  • Encourage independence.
  • Encourage your child to see the big picture. There is a big world outside of your front door and the sooner your child knows the better.
  • Did I say laugh? Yes, laugh a lot.
  • All of this works also works on your husbands, dogs and cats.
  • Love your child.
  • Listen to your child.
  • Don’t show favorites.
  • Learn from your child.  Yes, you can learn a lot from someone who is under 18 years old. Keep and open mind and an open heart.

 

Part 3: Faith

My brother Val and I used to like to creep into churches and sit in the back so we could listen to the music. We were not welcome, but we were not completely unwelcome.

My views on faith and my own faith have changed over the years. I’ve always been fascinated by different religions and faiths – which is different from the faith I speak of. Anyway, I was always an outsider. Yet, I feel a kindred spirit with the artists and the music. It is the trappings that give comfort, the repetition, the traditions – the good traditions 0 the positive traditions.

When I walk in the woods or walk through the rooms of an art museum I feel faith. Something is there that is wonderful and real and magic. Something is there that is good. It is a goodness that anyone can let in. It is something that makes one believe that peace and goodness is possible.

Today is Christmas Eve. I believe that the message of Christ is about love and hope and giving. It is about trying to understand others. It is about beauty and joy. You can throw the rest of the stuff out. It is not a comfort. It is not faith. Faith is good. If it isn’t good then it is just a horror story written to scare people into submission – not written by Jesus. He knew better.

That is what I believe.

I respect the faiths of others. I can see good things in religions I don’t believe in. I can say “That is fun, but I’d never believe it.” Sure there are religions, if you can call them that, that horrify me, but that is something I will keep to myself for now.

Find faith in the love you feel. Find it in the sound of birds. Find it in friendship with those who are different. Find it in things you can’t understand. Find it in the words of poetry, the sound of a child laughing, the feel of the cold damp fog on your face, the music of frogs, and in your own heart.

Even those who don’t believe in a god or higher power or world beyond have to have faith. Faith in love and beauty and compassion.

Tomorrow we will celebrate. I hope it is a celebration for all, even if that celebration is a walk in the winter air or the lighting of a candle or the steady purring of a small furry cat.

 

Part 4: Memories from my Modern Vampire Family and Friends

This was first posted last December (2013) but I’m posting it again.

From Andrew: One of my fondest memories is walking with her in the snow at night. Her hands were hot, and as hard as she tried, she could never warm up my hands.

From Matthew: We looked at the stars in the night sky and didn’t feel dead anymore.

From Verity: A nip of brandy and a nip on the neck of my husband under the mistletoe.

From Lola: A lovely young man all tied up in red ribbons and bows. That isn’t figuratively either. He was all tied up.

From Tellias: We saw a great light in the sky and I knew something had happened that would change the world. That was a long time ago. I was very young.

From Eleora: We never did much for people we took blood from until we started to celebrate the Christmas holiday. Then we started to leave them presents. That is where the Santa Clause tradition came from. And this year I’m going to wear my red dress with the white fur trim and red boots and snowflake earrings.

From Val: My sister Juliette and I would sneak into churches and sing along to the carols. Everyone said it would kill us but we knew nobody who is damned could be so inspired by the music as we were.

From Cody: I used to be afraid of Vampires before I became one and found out how much fun they are, especially around the holidays. Well, except for the men in black and the zombies, but hey, you have to respect them for what they are.

From Adam (a Werewolf): Running in the mountain snow until we were so tired we couldn’t go another inch. My mother would be waiting with fresh meat, fruit cake and hot chocolate. We’d turn from wolves to boys and run naked all over the cabin as my parents laughed. It was crazy but, you know, we’re Werewolves.

From Aaron: We used to act out the Christmas Carol except someone would always tear out Scrooge’s neck before my mom could finish the narration. Oh man, we would laugh so hard.

From Max: Candle light and the long cool kiss of another Vampire.

From Teddy: I’ll never forgot the Christmas I pried my mother’s necklace off of the rotting corpse of the woman who stole it. I knew at that moment that Juliette was the Vampire I would one day marry and would proudly wear the necklace. It was also the night I learned I hadn’t lost my soul, or at least not completely.

From Jayne: I wore a red velvet dress trimmed with flowers and holly. The room was filled with candles and garland. Everyone tasted like cinnamon and whiskey.

From Ione: I was so excited about seeing Santa that I bit the cat.

From Elizabeth: Going for angel walks in the cemetery at midnight with Jayne and Mehitabel. The stone angels inspire the singing of the dead. It is quiet lovely and moving if you know what tombs to visit.

From Nathaniel: After years of spending Christmas protecting my kind from Vampire Hunters, I look forward to spending a quiet Christmas with my wife and child. I think I earned it.

From Thomas Kent: Christmas is a time for us to make frozen hearts warm and inspire peace among all creatures, even those of the night and cold.

To learn more about the individuals above click on their names.

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Wishing you all dear readers sweet memories.

A Happy Christmas to all!

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Everything will be ok, even when it isn’t.

I had coffee this morning with my brother Aaron at a Starbuck’s by his office. Being the nocturnal creatures we are, coffee is as necessary as blood and water and air.

He wanted to talk about our brother Andrew. We have three brothers, Andrew being the second and Aaron the third in the order of the five siblings. Anyway, Andy has issues. Andy is the one who has to be bailed out of emotional issues over and over and over.

Last week Andy got off the phone with a woman he is in love with. I can’t even call her his girlfriend. He must be a curiosity to her with his long hair and savant like musical talents. He can be like a light summer breeze and then turn around and be so intense and demanding that it can scare even other Vampires (and she isn’t a Vampire, just a regular woman, go figure she likes him.)

Andy told me that his friend found out she was cancer free for five years. She was still worried. He told her “everything will be fine.” He didn’t have a single qualifying fact in the case but he told her what they both wanted to hear.

In reality he was worried. I told him that she’d be fine. I told him that she was a survivor. I told him that she must love him. I was just saying those things to make him feel good. The last one was a lie because I knew, from what I know, that she must think he is crazy or at least a little off. To be honest I don’t even know the woman. I just know what I’ve been told and what I’ve looked up online about her (yes, I was a creeper. We all do it.) And if she does love him then the woman is a wonderful unique spirit – but unique spirits like that don’t come around very often – maybe once every thousand years.

So this morning I’m having coffee with Aaron. I’d gotten the kids off to school and checked on Andy who’d gone to bed at the first crack of dawn. The cats, who normally hate each other were curled up on the bed with him. Odd how creatures react to him that way. Like I said, Andy is special in more ways than one.

So, again, I’m having coffee with Aaron and he starts to talk about how worried he is about Andy. He talks of Andy’s new romance or his illusions of romance. He talks of Andy staying with me and how my kids will react (they love their Uncle Andy). Aaron worries about his brother who is too trusting. He worries about Andrew when he gets involved with weird people and everything always ends up out of control. You know how it is. We all have someone like Andy in our lives.

I touched Aaron’s hand, Aaron my serious brother, who always seems so stoic but seriously worries about everyone, and I said “Andy will be fine. Don’t worry about him.”

That was a lie and we both knew it. Everything won’t be fine. But sometimes when things aren’t fine, we’re fine in the way we care for others and the way we deal with it.

And sometimes, like the urgent need for coffee, we say everything is fine because we need to hear it. With any luck it just might turn into one of those lies that turns into the truth. We can only hope so.

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~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/08/23/daily-prompt-fake/
Click here for real lies: Lost Keys and Lies