Call of the Vampire by Gayla Twist Page B

three-ish.”
    “Oh.” Mom pursed her lips a little. “I just remembered I have to pop by the office to do a few things.” I opened my mouth to say it wasn’t a problem, but Mom assumed I was about to say something else. “I know, it’s Sunday, and I shouldn’t be working, but you know what I do is important, so if it means putting in a few hours on my day off then I shouldn’t complain.”
    “I know,” I assured her, inwardly taking a sigh of relief. “And I’m sure all your clients appreciate it.”
    My mom was such a good person that I felt like a jerk for not wanting her to come along. But I needed to talk to Grandma Gibson on my own for once and hope that it was one of her more clear-headed days. As penance for getting away with everything I’d just gotten away with, I decided to never go on another one of Blossom’s harebrained schemes ever again. And to do my best to stop her from starting out on any herself. Yes, I had made those kinds of promises to my mother before, but this time, I was making it to myself. Blossom and I had come terrifyingly close to getting into the kind of trouble you can never get out of.
     

Chapter 9
    The Ashtabula Home for Elder Care is not the nicest place to spend your golden years, but it’s also not the worst. My grandmother on my mom’s side died when she was in her sixties, but her mother, Grandma Gibson, had turned the corner on ninety and just kept going. She lived with us for quite a while, but when her mind started going, Mom was afraid to leave her at home alone. It killed my mother to put her own grandmother in a home, but she felt like she had no choice.
    Because my mom is my mom, she researched every old age home in a forty-mile radius from our house and thought that Ashtabula was the best. It didn’t stink as much as some of the other homes, and they didn’t just leave the old people hanging out in wheelchairs in the hallways like they did at some places.
    “Aurora Keys to see Lillian Gibson,” I told the woman at the front desk. My great grandmother had switched back to her maiden name after her husband died. She never explained why beyond that she always felt like a Gibson.
    The woman gave me a slow smile. “Well, aren’t you sweet. Coming to see your grandmother.”
    “Great grandmother, actually,” I said, returning her smile. The people at Ashtabula Care seemed to be genuinely nice.
    The lady scanned her schedule while I signed in. “She’s got bingo at four-thirty, but she’s free until then.”
    I had never in my life seen my great grandmother participate in bingo, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t on the schedule. Ashtabula tried to encourage their residents to stay active. “Is she in her room now?” I asked.
    “She should be. Or she’ll be in the common room.”
    I thanked the lady and headed down the hall.
    Old age homes made me feel bad. There were so many people just parked there with no one visiting them. It was a place to hide the elderly away and then forget about them. I made a mental note that I had to visit Grandma Gibson once a week, whether she remembered me or not.
    The door to her room was open, so I stuck my head in. Grandma had a lot of her things there from her house, so it felt a lot more personal than the common areas of the home. She was sitting at a small card table that she’d covered with a fringed shawl to make it more attractive. There were playing cards on the table, all lined up for solitaire, but Grandma was just staring at them like she’d started a game and then simply forgotten about it.
    “Knock, knock,” I said, instead of actually knocking. “Hello, Grandma Gibson, it’s your great granddaughter, Aurora.” She looked up at me, a little startled. I gave her a big smile and said, “May I come in?” and then entered the room, assuming the answer would be yes.
    “Lettie?” she asked, her eyes growing wide.
    “No, Grandma, it’s me—Aurora.”
    “Lettie, dear,” she said, holding out both