“Yeah,” I said, “Dad, I’ve been meaning to ask you about sending Mr. Christopher out last night into a
dangerous situation.”
“Mr. Christopher can take care of himself,” said Mom. “Don’t try to change the subject.”
“But he’s just a guy.” I chewed my lower lip. “You and Dad know he’s a vampire, don’t you?”
There are times in your life when you discover your parents are smarter than you think. I knew my parents were ace monster hunters, but I never considered they’d get beyond the Mr. Christopher blind spot. Apparently, I was the only one who’d decided there was a blind spot. It didn’t fit my view of the universe, having parents who knew Mr. Christopher was a vampire and letting him live.
I pulled my attention back to my parents. “Who told me the only good vampire is a dead vampire?”
Mom looked at Dad. “That one’s yours, dear.”
“Abby,” said Dad, “there is a difference between reality and film.”
Well, duh. “You always told me that your films were good for training.”
“In the vaguest sense,” said Dad. “I never imagined you would think of them as a how-to guide.”
“Wait,” I said. “What I’m hearing is that we coexist with monsters? We coexist?”
“Yes,” said Mom. “Violence is a last resort, and not anything you are going to be involved with at this age. If you’re lucky, you’ll never be involved with hunting monsters at all.”
“But I—”
Mom cut me off. “Hunting monsters is dangerous.”
“I won’t mess up!”
“Pretending you should kill anyone, dead or undead?” said Dad. “That’s psychotic. You are likely to run into some trouble, regrettably, because we are your parents.”
“How can I be prepared for trouble if you won’t let me practice?”
Mom rubbed her brow. “Are you even listening to us?”
“Dad, back when Ned became a vampire, why did you try to kill him?”
“Oh Abby,” said Dad. “He asked me to help him. I’m glad I didn’t succeed. You probably wouldn’t be here now.”
“We’re laying down some new ground rules,” said Mom. “There are only three places you can go unless you are with us. Home, school, and the roller rink.”
“The roller rink?” I echoed. Not what I expected to hear.
“Big Mel knows what to do to protect you. It’s always been a safe place for you and Vince.”
Even Big Mel was in on it. “What you’re both telling me is that you’ve spent your lives minimizing the danger in mine?”
“That’s what all parents do,” said Dad. “We just have to do it more than others. Now, no more independent excursions. No more threatening anyone.”
“Dad!” I said.
“We would just as soon you didn’t make yourself an easy and available target.”
I felt my jaw twitch. “I have never been an easy target!”
“We expect you to engage in more activities suited to a thirteen-year-old,” Dad continued.
Mom drained the last of her tea. “You also need to apologize to the Coopers.”
“I—”
“Not negotiable.”
“Is Vince grounded until he’s sixty-five?”
“Vince isn’t in trouble,” said Mom. “Mrs. Cooper blames you.”
That figured. Everyone seemed to, even though I couldn’t see that I’d done too much wrong.
“I’ll go apologize now.”
“I’ll take you,” said Dad. “I need to apologize as well.”
I placed my breakfast dishes in the sink and went to get my backpack.
As Dad and I took a stroll over to the Coopers, we were both quiet. I could feel the heat in my cheeks, and my insides boiled. My parents didn’t trust me. I had expected to impress them, but instead, they had turned my world inside out. They didn’t want me to hunt monsters, which was turning out to be something different than I thought. What now? Was I expected to become a normal girl? Because I wasn’t on board for that plan. It’s a cruel world, where parents get to make all the decisions.
“Abby,” said Dad.
I glared at him. His hands were shoved into his pockets, his tweed suit sleeves wrinkling above them.
“This is my fault and I know it. I will make it up to you. You’ll see.”
“By keeping me on a short leash? By making me into a peevee?”
“A what?”
“A peevee. A potential victim. Because I’m not going there.”
Dad stopped me and rested his hands on my shoulders. Artist’s hands, which tells you more about vampire killing than you’d suppose. “Listen, Abigail. Monster hunting isn’t something you look for. It finds you. I don’t want it to find you.”
“You hypocrite!”
He glared at me. “Full marks for vocabulary. No marks for attitude.”
We didn’t say anything after that. Dad ground his teeth. The warm wind tossed brown hair in my face, and I pawed at it. Stupid hair.
Vince was pulling ambitious weeds out of his mother’s flowers. Parked beside him in the driveway was Mrs. Cooper’s blue MINI Cooper. Vince told me how that came about. Mr. Cooper was like well, this has to be your car, and Mrs. Cooper is what they call long suffering, so she gave in, even though the punch line is obvious.
“Hey, Vince,” I said.
Vince didn’t talk to me, just went right back to the weeds. Fine. I took a breath. I was mad at Mom and Dad, not Vince.
“How in trouble are you?” I asked.
“Enough. You?”
I sucked on my lower lip. Dad rocked on his feet. “Enough.” Wind made the tree branches twitch. I decided to bite the bullet. “I’m here to apologize to your parents. And to you, of course.” No matter what my parents were planning for me, I was very sorry I had suggested the whole adventure for Vince’s sake. I didn’t understand where he was coming from last night. Turns out he knew more about my parents than I
