strangely, no one seemed to be reporting it. Still, someone was eventually going to catch on to the fact. Officer Robert Jurgenson was going to remember that incident on the beach and put two and two together.
There was a bar downtown she hadn’t tried, a little more upscale than most of the places she’d been. She dressed in the best clothes she had, but when she got there, she still felt a little out of place.
As soon as she sat down, she sensed someone standing next to her table. She looked up with a tacked-on smile to see Officer Jurgenson smiling down at her, as if thinking of him earlier had summoned him. He was wearing khakis and a dress shirt and looked like the man of her dreams.
“May I sit down?” he asked politely.
Jamie was speechless. All her usual patter abandoned her. She didn’t want to be phony with this man, but she wasn’t sure she remembered how to be genuine.
He ordered them drinks, whiskey sours, before she could stop him. “Is that OK?” he asked, as if belatedly worried that he’d been too forward.
“Fine,” she said. “My favorite.”
“You dyed your hair,” he observed.
“I wanted to start having more fun,” she said, flipping her blonde locks, and he chuckled.
Then they just sat and looked at each other for a while. The silence was awkward, and yet… it wasn’t. It was as if both of them knew that they’d be chatting away like old friends in no time, and they were savoring the moment of introduction for as long as possible.
When the drinks were delivered, they touched glasses and both took a sip.
“So… I might as well get this out of the way,” Jurgenson said. “That night on the beach––why’d you run away?”
“What did Stuart say?” Jamie asked. Jurgenson hadn’t arrested her; he hadn’t even seemed disconcerted to see her. So obviously, I’m not in trouble, she thought.
“He said he cut himself and fainted, and that you were trying to revive him. I thought the kid was going to die. In fact, the paramedics tell me his heart actually stopped for a few minutes. They had all but given up on him when he suddenly sat up, looking none the worse for wear. Which was pretty strange, considering how much blood he lost. Perkins told me, ‘The IV transfusion seemed to flow into the kid as if he was sucking it up.’”
Why had she run away? What possible excuse could she give? Jamie thought hard, but couldn’t come up with a plausible story. She was starting to get nervous when Jurgenson said, “You know what? Never mind. None of my business.”
She smiled at him, no longer nervous, and let it go. “So, how long have you lived in Crescent City?” she asked, and off they went, chattering the night away.
#
“Can I take you home?” Jurgenson asked much later as they stood outside the bar.
“Not tonight,” Jamie said, hinting that the night would come when she’d want him to. It was strange, how she had almost forgotten what she was. She’d started off the evening proclaiming I am a vampire , but ended it feeling more human than she had since… since she wasn’t.
“OK.” Jurgenson didn’t look put out. He seemed to understand that the evening had been a smashing success and to be willing to go at whatever pace Jamie dictated. My hero, she thought.
Suddenly, he turned pale and bent over. Just like that, he was puking at her feet. There was blood mixed in with the whiskey sours.
“Jesus, I’m sorry,” he rasped, still bent over. “That was awful.”
“No, it’s OK!” Jamie said, concerned. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah. Most of the whiskey went to waste, though,” he said, trying to smile.
“No… I really mean it. Are you all right?”
Jurgenson was standing straight again, though he was still pale. Jamie saw a flicker of doubt cross his face. Then he sighed. “I can’t imagine why I’m saying this. It’s got to be the worst first date in history. But somehow I feel like I owe it to you.”
Again, he
There was a bar downtown she hadn’t tried, a little more upscale than most of the places she’d been. She dressed in the best clothes she had, but when she got there, she still felt a little out of place.
As soon as she sat down, she sensed someone standing next to her table. She looked up with a tacked-on smile to see Officer Jurgenson smiling down at her, as if thinking of him earlier had summoned him. He was wearing khakis and a dress shirt and looked like the man of her dreams.
“May I sit down?” he asked politely.
Jamie was speechless. All her usual patter abandoned her. She didn’t want to be phony with this man, but she wasn’t sure she remembered how to be genuine.
He ordered them drinks, whiskey sours, before she could stop him. “Is that OK?” he asked, as if belatedly worried that he’d been too forward.
“Fine,” she said. “My favorite.”
“You dyed your hair,” he observed.
“I wanted to start having more fun,” she said, flipping her blonde locks, and he chuckled.
Then they just sat and looked at each other for a while. The silence was awkward, and yet… it wasn’t. It was as if both of them knew that they’d be chatting away like old friends in no time, and they were savoring the moment of introduction for as long as possible.
When the drinks were delivered, they touched glasses and both took a sip.
“So… I might as well get this out of the way,” Jurgenson said. “That night on the beach––why’d you run away?”
“What did Stuart say?” Jamie asked. Jurgenson hadn’t arrested her; he hadn’t even seemed disconcerted to see her. So obviously, I’m not in trouble, she thought.
“He said he cut himself and fainted, and that you were trying to revive him. I thought the kid was going to die. In fact, the paramedics tell me his heart actually stopped for a few minutes. They had all but given up on him when he suddenly sat up, looking none the worse for wear. Which was pretty strange, considering how much blood he lost. Perkins told me, ‘The IV transfusion seemed to flow into the kid as if he was sucking it up.’”
Why had she run away? What possible excuse could she give? Jamie thought hard, but couldn’t come up with a plausible story. She was starting to get nervous when Jurgenson said, “You know what? Never mind. None of my business.”
She smiled at him, no longer nervous, and let it go. “So, how long have you lived in Crescent City?” she asked, and off they went, chattering the night away.
#
“Can I take you home?” Jurgenson asked much later as they stood outside the bar.
“Not tonight,” Jamie said, hinting that the night would come when she’d want him to. It was strange, how she had almost forgotten what she was. She’d started off the evening proclaiming I am a vampire , but ended it feeling more human than she had since… since she wasn’t.
“OK.” Jurgenson didn’t look put out. He seemed to understand that the evening had been a smashing success and to be willing to go at whatever pace Jamie dictated. My hero, she thought.
Suddenly, he turned pale and bent over. Just like that, he was puking at her feet. There was blood mixed in with the whiskey sours.
“Jesus, I’m sorry,” he rasped, still bent over. “That was awful.”
“No, it’s OK!” Jamie said, concerned. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah. Most of the whiskey went to waste, though,” he said, trying to smile.
“No… I really mean it. Are you all right?”
Jurgenson was standing straight again, though he was still pale. Jamie saw a flicker of doubt cross his face. Then he sighed. “I can’t imagine why I’m saying this. It’s got to be the worst first date in history. But somehow I feel like I owe it to you.”
Again, he
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