Ivy glanced back to see Rebecca and Olivia riding side by side. ‘I could do with the company.’ She told him the address.
‘See you as soon as I can,’ Brendan said and hung up.
Olivia wiped the tears from her eyes and kept chopping. She had a stack of onions to get through for the tomato and bean soup that Aunt Rebecca was making for dinner.
Ivy was dicing up the tomatoes from Rebecca’s garden like a professional chef and, for the first time since they’d arrived, Olivia saw her sister had relaxed. Ever since Gonzo growled at her, Ivy had been walking around afraid to touch anything in case she broke it.
But now the three of them were sitting on tall stools around the island in the middle of the huge country kitchen. There was a basket of fresh eggs on the windowsill, rustic wooden cabinets and a huge open stove. They were surrounded by fresh ingredients for the soup: chives, potatoes and carrots, all from Rebecca’s garden.
‘Ivy, you are a whiz with that knife,’ Rebecca commented as she washed and drained the beans in front of the kitchen window.
‘I like cooking,’ Ivy replied. ‘And this knife makes it easy. It’s a Fangtooth knife, right?’
Olivia wondered if that was a vampire-run company. There were all sorts of them, from the Milk Duds baby store to funeral homes that were more like bedroom displays – seemingly normal, but with a vampire store in the basement.
‘It sure is. Your mom always used to say that you had to have the right tools for the job,’ Rebecca replied, and Olivia felt a little lurch.
Every time Rebecca said something like that, it was like another piece of the puzzle fell into place, like her mother was that much more real.
‘Will you tell us another story about her?’ Olivia asked. ‘About when you both came here?’
Rebecca put down the beans. ‘I can tell you that she always used to tease me for being a vegetarian and she was a terrible cook. She tried to make chocolate-chip cookies once and used baking soda instead of flour. Ugh!’
Olivia chuckled. ‘That must have tasted horrible.’
‘The funniest part was she was so determined to prove that she could cook, she ate a whole cookie, pretending it tasted wonderful.’ Rebecca smiled.
‘From the looks of that apple pie,’ Olivia replied, ‘you obviously know what you’re doing in the kitchen.’
‘Thanks,’ Rebecca said. ‘But that’s enough about me. I want to know everything about you.’ She started to put ingredients into a big blue pot on the stove. ‘Ivy, will you go first?’
‘I don’t know what to tell,’ she said.
‘Then, I’ll do it for you,’ Olivia said, carrying over her onions. ‘Ivy is the best writer on the school newspaper. She’s in all advanced classes and has read lots of the classic literature books I wish I had, like Jane Austen.’
Rebecca beamed at Ivy. ‘Your mother read Jane Austen.’
‘Really?’ Ivy said, like she’d just won the lottery.
Olivia was glad to see her perking up – well, as much as a broody vampire could perk.
‘She read all that stuff,’ Rebecca said. ‘I could never understand it.’
Olivia watched her sister turn back to her tomato-chopping with twice the enthusiasm, while Rebecca stirred the soup with her big wooden spoon.
‘I always wondered …’ but Rebecca’s voice trailed off as she peered out of the window. ‘Is that …? Who could that be?’ She pointed with the spoon and a piece of cooked carrot plopped on to the counter.
‘Who?’ Olivia couldn’t see.
‘There’s some hooligan in black stalking my chickens!’ Rebecca cried.
Ivy ran to look out of the window. ‘He’s here!’ She jumped up and down, her boots clomping on the blue-and-white tile floor, then rushed for the door.
‘Oh dear,’ Rebecca said, frowning, as they followed her out of the kitchen. ‘That’s Ivy’s boyfriend, isn’t it?’
‘Don’t worry,’ Olivia said. ‘Ivy’s too excited to take any offence at the hooligan comment.’
‘It’s all that black he wears,’ Rebecca muttered as she hurried down the hallway.
Olivia cleared her throat. ‘It’s not what you wear that makes you a thug.’
When Olivia and Rebecca got to the front door, Ivy had jumped into Brendan’s arms to give him a huge hug and he was twirling her around.
He put her down when he noticed Rebecca and said, ‘I hope you don’t mind, Ms Kendall, and I won’t stay long. I’ve left my bike by your mailbox.’
He didn’t look at all tired from his bike ride, but that was one of the advantages of vampire super-strength.
Rebecca cleared her throat. ‘No, no, I don’t mind.’
Olivia wondered if she was telling the truth. But Olivia knew that after Aunt Rebecca had spent some time with Brendan, she’d see past his clothes to know how nice he was.
‘Thanks, Aunt Rebecca,’ Ivy said. ‘Brendan really … uh … really loves horses.’
Brendan whipped his head up in surprise, but covered it up quickly. ‘Drawing them,’ he said. ‘Not riding them.’
‘OK, then,’ Rebecca replied, unconvinced. ‘I’ll just go add more beans to the soup.’ She gave an awkward smile and went back into the house.
‘So, what’s really going on?’ Olivia said to Ivy and Brendan.
‘I was feeling like a third wheel,’ Ivy confessed. ‘A fifth wheel, really: you, Rebecca, Coco and Honey were having so much fun.’
‘I could tell she wasn’t,’ Brendan put in, ‘so I insisted on coming. Besides, I wanted to see my girl living the cowgirl life!’
‘I’m sorry this hasn’t been easy for you,’ Olivia said. She felt awful that her sister wasn’t enjoying herself. She didn’t want it to be like when they went to meet their vampire family in Transylvania and Ivy had felt like an outsider.
‘It’s fine,’ Ivy replied. ‘I never expected to do the horse thing. At least my mom and I have Jane Austen in common.’
As they headed back into the house, Olivia saw Brendan grab hold of Ivy’s hand.
I wish I’d thought of inviting Jackson, Olivia thought, and decided to send him a text message. She took her phone out of her pocket but there was already a message from him waiting for her: Headline: Franklin Grove 27 per cent less cool without Olivia Abbott. Entire town awaits her return.