place.
"Dracula never ate," Mabel pointed out, confusion and concern on her face as she peered at Elvi.
"Dracula is a fictional character," Victor said dryly.
"Elvi, are you all right?" Mabel asked worriedly, touching her arm.
Elvi was silent, her head bowed. When she lifted it, she had to blink to see through the tears blurring her eyes. "I can eat."
"Yes, honey, it would seem so." Mabel patted her shoulder.
Elvi closed her eyes, her head spinning. She hadn't eaten a thing in five years and that more than anything else had set her apart from others. It was only after her turning that she'd realized how much people relied on food for social occasions. Birthdays, weddings, showers… they were celebrated with feasts, or cakes, or some form of food. Friends even met over coffee or drinks. Every meeting between people somehow revolved around food or drink and that had left her always on the outside. Unable to do either, or so she'd thought, her presence at such functions had often left the others feeling uncomfortable and guilty as they ate or drank in front of her.
That was the emotional side of it. The other side was that Elvi loved food. She always had. She loved the smell, the look, the texture, the taste. She loved to cook and she loved to eat. Going without the last five years had been like some sort of torture. Needless torture if what these two men said was true. She could eat .
That thought screamed through her head like a banshee, drowning out every other thought in her head with its howling. Elvi suddenly turned to the refrigerator and dragged the door open, only to stare at the contents with dismay.
"Oh, Mabel," she moaned unhappily.
"What?" the woman moved to her side, but seemed to understand the moment her eyes moved over the refrigerator contents. Voice apologetic, she said, "I'm on that diet Dr. Wilburs put me on."
Elvi just stood shaking her head mournfully. Her mind was shrieking cheesecake and the refrigerator held nothing but green things; lettuce, celery, spinach, broccoli. She so wasn't having something green and healthy as her first food in five years.
"I need to go to the grocery store," she decided, slamming the fridge door closed.
"What?" Mabel asked with surprise. "The grocery store is closed at this hour."
"Not A&P," she said, pushing through the trio to hurry around the counter. "It's open twenty-four hours." Stopping at the door to the garage, she whirled around and asked, "Where are the car keys?"
"Just a minute, I'll go with you," Mabel said abruptly. "I just have to find my shoes and purse and—"
"What about the fire?" Elvi asked. She really didn't want to have to wait while Mabel got ready. The woman would insist on changing, and freshening her lipstick, then she wouldn't remember where she'd left her purse and so on, and by the time she was ready to go, Elvi could have been and returned and eaten half a cheesecake.
"Oh, damn. I forgot about the fire," Mabel muttered. "I can't leave it unattended."
"That's okay," Elvi assured her. "I can drive myself. I won't be long."
"You won't be driving your car. The garage door is blocked by my car," Victor announced, moving toward her. "I'll take you. DJ can stay here and help Mabel with the fire."
"I don't need any damned help with the fire," Mabel said with irritation.
"I'm sure you don't," DJ said soothingly, then grinned and added, "but I bet between the two of us, we can make it burn hotter."
Silence fell briefly in the room. Mabel appeared too stunned by the suggestive comment to respond. Victor appeared a bit surprised himself. As for Elvi, while she was a little startled by it as well, the thought of food was on her mind and crowding out every thing else. She wasn't going to get into whatever was going on between DJ and Mabel, and she wasn't going to argue about Victor driving her to the store either.
"Let's go," Elvi said abruptly and charged out of the house. She felt absolutely no guilt at abandoning Mabel to DJ's tender
"Dracula never ate," Mabel pointed out, confusion and concern on her face as she peered at Elvi.
"Dracula is a fictional character," Victor said dryly.
"Elvi, are you all right?" Mabel asked worriedly, touching her arm.
Elvi was silent, her head bowed. When she lifted it, she had to blink to see through the tears blurring her eyes. "I can eat."
"Yes, honey, it would seem so." Mabel patted her shoulder.
Elvi closed her eyes, her head spinning. She hadn't eaten a thing in five years and that more than anything else had set her apart from others. It was only after her turning that she'd realized how much people relied on food for social occasions. Birthdays, weddings, showers… they were celebrated with feasts, or cakes, or some form of food. Friends even met over coffee or drinks. Every meeting between people somehow revolved around food or drink and that had left her always on the outside. Unable to do either, or so she'd thought, her presence at such functions had often left the others feeling uncomfortable and guilty as they ate or drank in front of her.
That was the emotional side of it. The other side was that Elvi loved food. She always had. She loved the smell, the look, the texture, the taste. She loved to cook and she loved to eat. Going without the last five years had been like some sort of torture. Needless torture if what these two men said was true. She could eat .
That thought screamed through her head like a banshee, drowning out every other thought in her head with its howling. Elvi suddenly turned to the refrigerator and dragged the door open, only to stare at the contents with dismay.
"Oh, Mabel," she moaned unhappily.
"What?" the woman moved to her side, but seemed to understand the moment her eyes moved over the refrigerator contents. Voice apologetic, she said, "I'm on that diet Dr. Wilburs put me on."
Elvi just stood shaking her head mournfully. Her mind was shrieking cheesecake and the refrigerator held nothing but green things; lettuce, celery, spinach, broccoli. She so wasn't having something green and healthy as her first food in five years.
"I need to go to the grocery store," she decided, slamming the fridge door closed.
"What?" Mabel asked with surprise. "The grocery store is closed at this hour."
"Not A&P," she said, pushing through the trio to hurry around the counter. "It's open twenty-four hours." Stopping at the door to the garage, she whirled around and asked, "Where are the car keys?"
"Just a minute, I'll go with you," Mabel said abruptly. "I just have to find my shoes and purse and—"
"What about the fire?" Elvi asked. She really didn't want to have to wait while Mabel got ready. The woman would insist on changing, and freshening her lipstick, then she wouldn't remember where she'd left her purse and so on, and by the time she was ready to go, Elvi could have been and returned and eaten half a cheesecake.
"Oh, damn. I forgot about the fire," Mabel muttered. "I can't leave it unattended."
"That's okay," Elvi assured her. "I can drive myself. I won't be long."
"You won't be driving your car. The garage door is blocked by my car," Victor announced, moving toward her. "I'll take you. DJ can stay here and help Mabel with the fire."
"I don't need any damned help with the fire," Mabel said with irritation.
"I'm sure you don't," DJ said soothingly, then grinned and added, "but I bet between the two of us, we can make it burn hotter."
Silence fell briefly in the room. Mabel appeared too stunned by the suggestive comment to respond. Victor appeared a bit surprised himself. As for Elvi, while she was a little startled by it as well, the thought of food was on her mind and crowding out every thing else. She wasn't going to get into whatever was going on between DJ and Mabel, and she wasn't going to argue about Victor driving her to the store either.
"Let's go," Elvi said abruptly and charged out of the house. She felt absolutely no guilt at abandoning Mabel to DJ's tender
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