“Only if you promise not to entirely geek out.”
“I won’t. It’s uncool to fanboy on a date.”
I shook my head. “This isn’t a date.”
“No?”
“It’s a movie. A nice, friendly movie.” I led William into the family room. Now I thought of it as a date, but he didn’t need to know that.
Mom was curled up in a chair like a librarian cat. She poked knitting needles in a basket and glanced up. “Hello.”
“Hello Mrs. Rath.”
“Reginald will join you in a second. Are you ready for the movie?”
“Oh yeah,” said William. “Johnny Depp is one of the ax guys in the boat scene.”
“Yup,” I said, impressed. “Depp is proud of the appearance.”
“And the chance to work with me.” Dad divaed into the living room. He was in full Reginald Rath regalia, vampire coat, velvet smoking jacket, and ruffly shirt. “Glad to meet you, Abby’s horror enthusiast friend.”
William gave him the eye. “Honored to meet you, sir.”
“Not at all,” said Dad.
“When Dad told them he was coming, the Alex Film Society set up a little lecture thing,” I explained. “So you’re getting the Anvil treatment tonight.”
“Yes.” Dad rubbed his hands, and the lace on his sleeves waterfalled across his wrists. “As an added bonus, you get to meet Lee Christopher.”
“Really?”
William wouldn’t have caught the little eye contact thing between Mom and Dad. No doubt this was some sort of “were you the vampire at the mall” screening test, like my seeing if he could cross the threshold was. “Is he wearing the cape?”
Dad’s eyes twinkled. “Of course he’s wearing the cape. I might stake him after the film.”
“Like kids in a candy store,” Mom said.
“We’ll be meeting him at the theater. As soon as we’re all here, we’ll be off.”
“Are we expecting anyone else?” I asked.
“I invited Vince along,” said Dad. “He’s never seen Revenge of the Summer Camp Gill Monster.”
“Yeah?” Great. Vince and William and me and Dad. In the same car. With Vince being a jerk, and William sitting on the jerk fence while Vince was around. Maybe Dad would just take Vince and William and leave me at home for a quiet evening with Mom.
“A nice, friendly movie,” William said, his voice hard.
Vince came in through the kitchen. “Evening,” Vince said.
“Hey,” I said. My response was calculated to be cold. I grabbed William’s arm and smiled. “Let’s go.”
On the way out there was another parental telepathy moment. I took my hands off William’s arm and put them behind me like Mom did when she couldn’t figure out where to put them. We hopped into the car. I let Vince sit with Dad in the front seat.
“I understand that there were three versions of the Gill Monster suit?” William asked.
Dad opened his mouth to answer, but Vince jumped in. “Had to be, right? Couldn’t use the same suit for underwater sequences. Also, since they used two separate stuntmen, one suit had to be six inches shorter.”
“Very impressive, Vince,” Dad congratulated.
“Yeah,” I said. “Have you been reading up?”
Vince turned around, looking over his shoulder at me. “Gotta keep up on the classics.”
“Do you know about the earlier version?” said William. Uh-oh. The horror geek challenge had begun.
Vince narrowed his eyes, the way he does when he concentrates. “Early on they had cast Lola Argent, but she turned out to be allergic to the latex they used on the Gill Monster suit, so she quit, and then they hired Andi Churchill instead.”
Now I was impressed. “Vince, serious expertise.”
William shrugged. “Lots of people know that.”
Except, I thought, William was trying to trip him up. Lots of people did not know that.
Traffic was crazy bad. It took us two hours to get there. The tension between Vince and William was tangible, but Dad didn’t notice. He filled the two hours with stories and sighs at the traffic. When we arrived at the Alex, my ears hurt, and I’d been stretched thin.
The Alex Theater was built in the twenties, like loads of theaters in Los Angeles, but what made the Alex special was their film society, which would show old classic films, like Dad’s and Mr. Christopher’s. Every few months one or the other of them would get a call, and I’d be off to the giant auditorium watching Blood! Blood! Blood! or The Curious Curio of Doctor Z. As with all the theaters built at the time, the Alex had a theme, sort of an Egyptian Greek thing. I don’t think the cushy red velvet seats were used by pharaohs, but I appreciated them.
“Reginald!” A woman in a business suit, one brown ponytail dangling over a shoulder, wandered up to us in the lobby. She pumped my dad’s hand. “Great to see you.”
“Jennifer!” Dad was a little oily when he gushed movie star. “You remember my daughter Abigail?”
William glanced at me and I shrugged. No reaction out of Vince. He was used to it.
Jennifer bent over me and cooed at me like I was some sort of baby. “Hello, Abby. Can I get you and your friends some popcorn?”
“No, Jennifer, it’s cool. We’ll find our seats.”
She tilted her head. “You know the way. I’ll take your dad back. Lee is already backstage.”
We watched the adults retreat down the plush hallway. “I want popcorn,” said William.
“We’ll save you a seat.”
William climbed the stairs, leaving me with sulky Vince. We were accosted by one of the ushers who gave us a program with the details of the film, and Dad and Mr. Christopher’s picture. Then we sat down. I scanned my program, trying to avoid talking to Vince. I was not up for another round of the “you shouldn’t be dating William” chorus, which I was not doing anyway.
“Abby,” said Vince.
I frowned as I
