Home > Stake That (Blood Coven Vampire #2)(13)

Stake That (Blood Coven Vampire #2)(13)
Author: Mari Mancusi

We haven’t seen him since. Not that I’ve wanted to. In fact, up until now I’ve always said I’d sooner join the cheer-leading squad and go out with quarterback Mike Stevens than bond with dear old Dad. And that’s saying something.

RAYNIEDAY: So let me get this straight. You e-mailed Dad?

SUNSHINEBABY: ☺

RAYNIEDAY: And you asked him to our birthday party? SUNSHINEBABY: Yup, yup.

RAYNIEDAY: And he said . . . YES?!?!?

SUNSHINEBABY: Isn’t that awesome? I’m so excited I can hardly stand it.

RAYNIEDAY: I can’t believe he said yes. He never comes to these kinds of things. We haven’t seen him in years. Are you SURE he said yes?

SUNSHINEBABY: I’ll forward you the e-mail. Hold on. . . .

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Hiya kiddo,

Great to hear from you. Sounds like you’re doing well in school. Congrats on your role in the senior class play. Maybe you’ll be the next Lindsay Lohan.

I can’t believe you two are turning seventeen. I remember when you were tiny screaming babies running around in diapers. How time flies.

Anyway, I just checked my Day-Timer and it doesn’t look like anything’s going on the weekend of your party. And I was able to find a cheap flight on JetBlue. So count me in! I’ll even bring the birthday cake. There’s a bakery down the street from me that’s to die for.

Thanks again for thinking of me.

Love,

Dad

RAYNIEDAY: Wow. I can’t believe it. I don’t know what to say. SUNSHINEBABY: I know. Me neither. I just sent the e-mail figuring that it’d guilt him a bit into remembering he had daughters that he never communicated with. I never in a billion years thought he would actually say yes and come. RAYNIEDAY: He could still blow us off. . . .

SUNSHINEBABY: No way. He bought a plane ticket and e-mailed me the itinerary. And he rented a hotel room downtown. He’s definitely coming.

RAYNIEDAY: Wow. I can’t believe it.

Anyway, the chatting goes on, but that’s the important bit. Sunny ends up signing off to go to bed and I go back to writing this new blog entry. It’s a bit hard to type, even now, what with my hands all trembly from the news.

Dad. Coming here. For our birthday. A combination of dream come true and scary nightmare. I wonder what he’ll be like. If he’ll have gotten fat or bald. If he still has that ticklish spot behind his right ear. If his favorite food is still mac and cheese. If it’ll be like he never left or if it’ll be weird and awkward. Will he remember all our inside jokes? The stories he used to tell us?

The storytelling is the best part about Dad. Sunny and I would curl up in my parents’ big king-size bed, each resting our heads on one of his shoulders. He’d spin fantastical tales. Fantasy, horror, comedy, adventure. Every night he’d have a different story, but the heroines were always the same. Two princesses, Sunshine and Rayne, who went about saving the world. Even when I got too old for those kinds of stories, I’d always beg for more.

Back then Dad was my superhero. My idol. The person I wanted to be like when I grew up. He was so cool. And he understood me in a way that Mom and Sunny never could. Him and I used to sit out on the back porch on warm summer nights and have deep discussions about life, the universe, and everything.

And then one day he left. Breaking my heart in the process.

The shrinks tell Mom that’s why I am like I am today. Keeping myself at arm’s length from people, not trusting anyone to get close. Dressing rebelliously. Having seedy flings with boys I don’t care about and then walking out on them before they know what happened.

The question is this: Could Dad be to blame for all of it or was I always destined to be a freak? Guess I’ll never know for sure.

Wow. I can’t believe he’s actually coming next week.

That he’s flying on a plane. Staying at a hotel.

That he’s bringing birthday cake.

Okay, I am officially freaking out.

POSTED BY RAYNE McDONALD @ 11 P.M.

ONE COMMENT:

Ashleigh says . . .

That’s so kewl ur dad is coming 2 visit. I haven’t seen my dad in like 10 years, so I totally know the feeling.

COMMENT DELETED BY BLOG ADMINISTRATOR

9

MONDAY, JUNE 4, 8 P.M.

Black Is the New Black

So want to hear the good news or the bad news? Oh, forget it. I hate when people ask that stupid question, anyway. It’s not like they really want you to choose. They’ve already got a preferred news-telling order in their heads. They’re just trying to prepare you for the shock/horror of the bad news which is ALWAYS in these cases worse than the good news.

Examples:

GOOD NEWS: You got an “A” on your history paper.

BAD NEWS: You have to read it aloud in class.

GOOD NEWS: The Arctic Monkeys are coming to town.

BAD NEWS: It’s a twenty-one and up show and last week some bar confiscated your fake ID.

GOOD NEWS: There’s a sale at Hot Topic.

BAD NEWS: It’s only on candy-colored big pants rave gear, not that amazingly cool red velvet corset you’ve been eyeing.

ANYWAY, my good news is that I did it. I went and dyed my hair black. This beautiful ebony color that’s so dark and rich it looks almost blue. Now no one will ever mistake me for Sunny in three billion years.

Cheer!

Bad news? Uh, Mom totally flipped when she saw it.

“What did you do to yourself?” she cries when I walk out of the bathroom. (Yes, it was a “do-it-yourself ” project—I’m not spending $100 at the hairdresser when they sell the stuff in the drugstore for $8.99.)

   
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