For Clover

[Clover]

re·birth

/rē-ˈbərth/

a revival; being reincarnated or born again

“bear witness to my rebirth”

---

I’m not sure how this new life works. What I once thought of as an infection is still an infection, but it’s an infection of the body, the mind, the spirit. What am I supposed to do now? The only thing keeping me going was vengeance. I can’t avenge them when I’m no better than the monster responsible for their deaths. There’s no reason for me to go on. I was reborn only to die again.

His name’s Jesse. No, this isn't a proclamation of love. That’s the one that changed me. I’m not sure what they really call that person, the instigator, so I’ll just call him Jesse until I better understand things. When I first met him, he seemed like a homicidal maniac. I watched him kill innocent people, or I thought they were innocent but they weren't really innocent. It’s complicated. I don’t even want to get into what really happened in the sewers. Whatever that led to my change doesn't matter so much as now.

I’m one of them. I don’t like using the word. Using the word makes it real. Using the word reminds me that this isn't make believe and what happened truly happened. I’m infected. I’m not alone, for what it’s worth. Jesse has a family. That’s what they call themselves. Family. They should be mine, but they don’t feel like mine. The first time I met them, I felt like wallpaper. Just like that shitty wallpaper in my old apartment. (Someone else is probably complaining about that ugly ******* wallpaper.)

I don’t trust the family. Not entirely. I just can’t adapt to this life. I haven’t told anyone, but I’m having trouble eating. I can’t stop. The smell and the taste and the temperature. Blood makes me feel alive again and I just can’t get enough. I was caught twice tonight. Should I tell Jesse? Maybe it’s not a big deal.

There has to be a limit. I’ll just be more careful until I finally feel full. I don’t have to tell Jesse anything. I’ll just kill the ones I bite. I just need a little bit more. Problem solved, right?

[Clover]

fa·cade

/fə-säd/

an outward appearance used to conceal the actuality

“our whole existence is a facade”

---

Is it wrong to be happy? Is it wrong to forget? Is it wrong to take a look around at this new life and find some peace? I stopped writing because everything I thought I knew, I didn’t. Now, I have so much to say that I’m afraid I’ll never stop writing. I can start with blood.

I met more of the Fforde family, but I haven’t bonded with many of them:

There is still Jesse, my sire. He and I have a rocky relationship. I still don’t like him, and I don’t think I ever will. He’s hot-headed and lacks any sort of emotional intelligence. He’s tied the family to Andras, like a ship to an anchor, and I think they are his anchor, for better or worse. In my opinion, it’s a mistake. They’re unruly and they seem quick to point out that Fforde is not really Andras. He’s also part of a faction that would slaughter his family just to live by an ancient code. That’s part of the reason I can’t trust him. He would let them kill me. No, he would help them kill me. The worst part is he would try to justify his actions by saying some ******** about the masquerade.

Then there is Renee. I think of her as an exception. I can’t say much about her because I don’t really know her. I’ve never spent a length of time in her presence, but I imagine she’s as sweet as she seems. She gave me a job when I needed the income and I’m sure she would listen to me if I ever needed to talk to someone. Last night, I heard she vented about the family. It’s gossip, but it made me wonder. How does she really feel about Fforde? Does she see the cracks I see?

Finally, there’s Victor. I could say great things about him, but he’s one of four reasons why I haven’t walked away from the family. I trust him. He’s more of a sire than my own sire. I thought about telling him, letting him know that I’ve got his back, but it seems stupid. He’s not that old and he’s having trouble with Kaelyn. And he’s in love with Kenlie. That isn’t a problem, but I realize it sounded that way. I’m not good with transitions. I wanted to show that they’re more of a unit. I don’t want to say that I care for them, but the thought struck me last night: If I choose my family, and I choose them, then I care for them.

That’s it for my small family tree. I haven’t really met the others. I haven’t gotten to know the others. I know their names, but it doesn’t count. Just because I know your name doesn’t mean I’ll do anything for you. It doesn’t mean I’ll listen to you. The whole situation is complicated, almost as complicated as the fact that I’m starting to feel some sense of obligation toward Jesse and Victor might be leaving Fforde. I don’t know what I’m going to do about any of this. I haven’t thought about getting to know the others. I haven’t questioned the fact that, despite the fact I dislike him, Jesse and I might actually get along. I have thought about what would happen if Victor were to leave Fforde, and what that would do to our sibling status.

I don’t want to think about this. I don’t need to think about losing what I may or may not have. I’ve lost too much already.

Before, I mentioned four reasons I haven’t walked away from Fforde. I’ll elaborate. One, I stayed for Victor; two, I stayed for Renee; three, I stayed out of fear; and four, I want to know with absolute certainty that Jesse is the emotionless husk he comes off as. Fear. Where would I go? What would I do? I know almost nothing about living as a vampire. I have almost nothing to survive: I have no solid income, I have no reliable weapons, and I have no home. If I left Fforde, I would go right back to where it began, the sewers. Jesse. Sometimes, he can be nice, funny, and generous, but he’s still a puzzle. Can anyone blame me for trying to make some sort of bond? I don’t think the blood will go away. I’ll always be his childe. I can’t get rid of that.

All of this reminds me of my family. My other family. It reminds me of my mother and father. It reminds me of June. Sometimes I see her in other people. I see her in Kae’s immaturity. I see her in Vic’s sense of humor. I see her in Kenlie. It scares me, and it reminds me that I’m no closer to finding the monster responsible for everything. Every bit of happiness makes me forget a little more.

[Clover]

ab·sent

/absənt/

not present; without

“he’s absent from our lives”

---

His name is Nikita, but he goes by Nik. He’s Russian--it’s probably as close to Russia as I’ll ever get, since I’ve spent my entire life in Harper Rock. He’s funny; he’s friends with Vic, Kenny, and Mel; and he’s handsome. We met at the Handle Bar and played a quick game of pool, but we never got to finish. I was supposed to go back the next day, but I missed him. Then, I missed him the day after that. And after that. It’s safe to say that we’ll never get to finish that game.

I started spending more time at the bar, but I never saw Nik again. I didn’t ask about him, since I don’t ask about men. The last time I asked about a man, I got Zach. Zach and I were together, on and off, for about seven years. I still can’t believe the length of time I spent with him, or how many years I wasted on him. He abandoned me when I needed him most, yet I still miss him. I think about how my life would be if I’d just stayed home instead of going to the club. Maybe we would be engaged. Maybe we would have a baby on the way. I don’t know.

I didn’t really know Nik. That’s the point I’m trying to make. I only spent an hour or so with him, but I liked him. I flirted with him. Do you know how long it’s been since I flirted with anyone? I didn’t want to meet someone or admit that I liked someone, but I liked him. I wanted to see him again. I guess he didn’t reciprocate.

It’s easy to let someone down when you don’t show up again. He was distracted anyway. It was just a stupid game of pool. The whole thing was stupid. I hope he’s enjoying himself, wherever he is. I guess I'll just go back to my normal routine. *****, sit, *****, drink, *****, and refill. Repeat.

[Clover]

home·less

/hōmləs/

without a home; without a roof overhead; without a fixed address

“she thinks she’s homeless even with the family house”

---

I decided to start house hunting. So far, I’ve found apartments available in Corvidae. I’ve also heard about homes available in Larch Court and places in the sewers, but I’m not sure. I don’t like the apartments being in the quarantine zone, I don’t like the extra space in Larch Court, and I never want to live in the sewers. Of the three, I prefer Larch Court, but I’m one person. I’ve thought about a roommate or a housemate, but I wouldn’t know where to start. Most of the people I know, if not all of them, have a place to call home. I could ask Nik, if I find him, but that seems uncomfortable, and I’m sure he’s staying somewhere.

If I invest in a home in Larch Court, I’d have to get a loan. I’d need to contact a bank. I’d need to show proof of employment. I’d probably need a cosigner for the loan, and I’d probably ask either Jesse or Renee (maybe Grey would be a good option, since she’s a hard worker). IF I get the place, I’d need to look into furniture, decorations, maybe some of those portals or teleportation things to get me from place to place. I’m not even sure I have the ability to create the portals, let alone the tome that transports me to Larch Court whenever I’m too tired to walk home.

Is it too soon to leave the Fforde home? This isn’t some rush to get away from everyone, but I want my own place. I want my own bed. Sometimes I need somewhere to hide, and I’m tired of using the bar to satisfy the need. If I’m not crunching on peanut shells left by some fatass jerk or sharing space with a smelly man thinking he’s the best thing since PB&J, I’m all alone, staring at bottles of alcohol and listening to the same songs on repeat. I’d rather be lonely in my own place than lonely in a public place.

The more I think about this, the more I want to place a bid on a place in Larch Court. It’s been too long since I’ve been responsible for my own money. It’s like being in charge of the Campbell home, back when Dad was around and I had to look after June.

Back to Fforde. I’ve been trying harder to keep my temper in check. I keep repeating how hard it is to maintain control and how odd it is that I’m having a struggle at all. I’ve never been this type of person. I know, I’ve written this down a thousand times, but it’s true. I reached out to Ursa and we exchanged apologies, then I gave her some chemicals I stole from a factory in Coastside. As far as I’m concerned, we’re square. Then I think I cleared the slate with Ishaq. We still haven’t spoken, and I think I’ll reach out to him too, eventually. I think I’ll reach out to Grey next, since she seems like a voice of reason. Look at me being all social and ****. Go Clover.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Kaelyn. I lifted a great silver bracelet from a woman in River Rock and I decided to give it to her. Kae’s young, still a teenager, and I wonder what her story is, since everyone seems to have a story. What happened for her to become one of us? She’s innocent, naive, and sometimes I want to shake her or glue her mouth shut. It doesn’t mean I dislike her, just that she doesn’t really listen. She doesn’t pay attention to context clues and social cues mean nothing to her. But the shortfalls kind of draw me to her, and I’m sure it’s the same for others.

It’s funny how I wanted to think about real estate and ended up writing about family members. Again. I think I’ll give the company a call and see about an open house or a quick walk-through. That’s a good first step.

[Clover]

at·tach·ment

/əˈtaCHmənt/

an extra piece or part; an extension

“she suffers from an attachment disorder”

---

I can’t explain what’s going on in this place. I love Kaelyn. I do. But she’s ******* crazy. There’s a thin line between child-like naivety and insanity. The girl has issues with attachment. No matter what you tell her, she won’t leave her sire, and Kenlie, alone. It doesn’t matter if they request some time alone. It doesn’t matter if you explain that alone time is necessary. Kae doesn’t comprehend. She won’t let them go. They were gone for one day and she asked when they were coming back.

She might have been neglected before this and now she’s feeding on the attention. She might have been showered with attention and she’s not used to being on her own. Kenny’s reached a breaking point and I really can’t blame her. I’m trying my best not to do the same. I think I mentioned that Kae reminds me of June. My childhood was full of listening to my sister’s whining; I never had a moment alone because June was always on my ***. I think I’ll be okay.

How does Vic handle this? Jesse told me that Vic is just as obsessed with Kae, but I don’t see that. I know he loves her. Well, I think he loves her. I’m sure he wants her to succeed. But if she doesn’t start listening, what then? Is he going to give up on her? Jesse puts the responsibility on the childe, so maybe Vic should do that. Then again, this is different. We aren’t leeching onto Jesse.

I wouldn’t mind sharing my opinion on Kae, not even to her face, but this one is different. I tried speaking to Grey. She’s odd. Really odd. She seemed like she was on something really strong. Like she couldn’t think straight. At first, I thought she was just being a *****, but now I’m not so sure. I haven’t decided whether I’ll try talking to her again or not. If I decide not to, it’s not parting on bad terms. She’s just so ******* odd.

If everyone’s got quirks, then what about me? What’s so odd about me? I’m trying not to be so judgmental, even if this is a “safe place,” but sometimes it’s hard. If I had to point out some odd things about myself, I’d point out the fact that I--

[Clover]

ex·plo·sive

/ikˈsplōziv/

able or likely to shatter violently or burst apart; likely to cause an eruption of anger or controversy

“he has an explosive temper”

---

I saw him today. Zach. He was at Grosseto’s and he wasn’t alone. He had his arm around a blonde and they were neck deep in a bottle of red wine. They looked happy. I didn’t mean to stand there and stare, but I did. I wasn’t going to get a table there--I just wanted to explore the city’s buildings--but I took a table near them. I was behind him, so I spent most of the time gauging her expressions and eavesdropping on their conversation. Apparently, Zach got a new job at a tattoo parlor and she got a promotion from secretary to paralegal. They were out celebrating and they weren’t worried about the price tag. I’d never seen him look so happy. He was much happier than when he was with me.

I should have been happy for them, but it made me sick to my stomach. There he was, so close and yet so far away. He left me to rot in the hospital and he moved on with some bleach-blonde tramp from the better side of town. What about me? What about what we had? If it weren’t for the lighting, I might have missed that ring on her finger. That ****** is married. How long was he with her? Was he cheating on me with her? Probably.

The way they were huddled together, as if it were just the two of them, made my chest hurt. I wanted to pry them apart and burn them alive. I hate that he’s happy. I hate that she’s happy. I hate that they’re allowed to be happy and not me. Why didn’t he tell me he was leaving me for her? Maybe we wouldn’t have had the happily ever after I thought we would have, but I spent so much time thinking that we would. It’s like my world was a lie. It is a lie.

When my waiter arrived, I ordered pasta and wine, but I knew I wasn’t going to eat any of it. Zach and Trish--that’s her name, that’s her ******* name--were talking about their ideas for a honeymoon. That answered questions about when they were married, but not how long they were together. I wanted to jump across the table and strangle her. I even counted the people in the room to see if I could kill the rest of them and stroll out like nothing had happened. There were too many people.

“I’m glad you said yes. I ******* love you so much.” That’s what he said to her.

“Of course I said yes. I can’t believe you asked me so soon, but I was thrilled! I can’t wait for the honeymoon.” She giggled at him, like some slutty school girl, and then they reached across the small table to hold hands.

He ******* loved her so much. She was thrilled. My food arrived before I could drive my fists through my lonely table. I couldn’t eat the food. I couldn’t drink the wine. I just grabbed my fork and swished the food around on my plate. Playing with my food kept me from ripping them apart and playing with their insides. I was angry. I was hurt. I’m still angry and hurt. I don’t want him back, but I never wanted to see that. I didn’t think I’d see him with another woman.

I couldn’t see his face, just the back of his head, but I pictured his expression. He has these blue eyes that remind me of the sky. They’re so ******* beautiful. I lost myself in them. And his smile. Oh God, his smile. I loved him so much. I wanted him to save me, to whisk me away.

I want to say I paid my bill and left, but I didn’t. I lost my temper. The dishes on my table began to clatter, the silverware began to knock against the plates, and then my glass of wine began to shake. I don’t know how, but the wine glass cracked and the wine leaked out onto the beautiful linen. The plate cracked in half, then into fourths, and then into eighths. None of the other tables noticed. None but his. Trish looked at me with curiosity, just wanting to see what had caused the noise. And when she looked, he just had to look too. His curiosity changed to disbelief, and then I saw fear.

“Let’s go.” His voice was quiet but stern.

The legs of his chair scraped against the carpet and then it tipped over. He looked crazy, rushing her into collecting her purse and her coat. I shouldn’t have gotten up, but I did. Stupid me. I shouldn’t have had contact with anyone from my human life. I know that! I just couldn’t help it. When I got up, my silverware flew off the table and landed on a nearby table. I watched it happen. I saw it happen.

“Looks like you’re married.”

After so long, that’s what I said to him. It was simple and bitter. I wanted to take him and throw him into the piano. I wanted to take the strap on Trish’s purse and strangle the both of them. I just hated him. I hate him. He’s a liar and a cheat and a coward.

“You’re supposed to be locked up.”

He didn’t even try to whisper, like he’d get the place to call the cops so he’d be free to enjoy his life. I had so many witty things to say, but I didn’t. It was like my brain kicked in and I finally knew that it was time to walk away. I left some bills on the table and then I looked back at him. I wanted to remember his face. Like it was the last time I’d ever see him. But that’s not true. Unless he leaves Harper Rock, I’ll see him again. And again. This isn’t a big city.

I don’t know what happened at the restaurant, but it happened again when I got home. The walls of my brand new home started splintering. The wallpaper stripped away to reveal the spidering cracks extending to the floor and ceiling. My lights pulsed and exploded. I had to clean up glass and pieces of drywall. Once I calmed down, everything stopped. It’s my anger again. Just thinking about Zach brings it all on again. If I see him again, I should kill him. But killing him is like killing everything about my past. I don’t know if I can really do it. I want to, but can I really do it? I talk about it, but can I really follow through with every threat, spoken and unspoken?

[Clover]

un·dress

/ənˈdres/

to take off one’s clothes; the state of being naked or partially clothed

“he was undressing in front of us”

---

Last night was crazy. Absolutely insane. Amazing. Wonderful. I need bullet points to try and describe the night. I wasn’t drunk, not on arbor vitae, blood packs, or fresh blood, so I did everything with clarity. I knew what I was doing when I stepped onto that bar to grind against him. I was sober when I kissed him. But this isn’t about romance. He was sloshed and I’m sure I took advantage of him. I took advantage of him. Is it wrong that I’d do it all over again? Is it wrong that I’m disappointed he wasn’t drunk enough to take home? Probably.

The night started out with Mabel. Just the two of us, enjoying some time in the Handle Bar. I was flirting with her. I flirted with her before then too. I thought he was gone or that he’d come out of the closet. And then that **** with Zach. I was pissed off. But it was flirting, so it’s not the end of the world. I’m not going to waste time worrying over **** that didn’t happen and doesn’t matter. We all flirt. It’s all in good fun.

This isn’t all about how sexy Nik looked last night. I swear to my future self. I want to focus on the fact that Nik isn’t human anymore. I don’t know all the details, but being turned saved his life. If it were for any other reason, I might have punched him in the nose. He was so alive. I really loved the humanity. He smelled so wonderful and he had this color about him. If I looked closely, I saw the thrum of his blood as it pumped through his veins, adding that beautiful color to his skin. I was disappointed when I learned he was a vampire. I thought he’d developed some obsession with vampires and becoming a vampire, but it wasn’t that at all. He was forgiven.

It’s not what I expected. None of last night was what I expected. There were too many people. Mabel and I turned to some sort of gathering. She and I didn’t get to talk much after everyone showed up. And then Kae walked in. I didn’t want to go too far with them in the bar. It got awkward. It got a little too steamy, in the case of Kenny and Vic.

Then I saw him again. His name’s Ripper. I swear he’s following me, but I don’t have solid evidence. He’s been in the bar a few times, maybe three or four, and I’ve seen his two times on the street. It’s crazy, but I swear I saw him following me down the street one day. I’ve told Jesse. I’ve told Kenny, Vic--everyone in the bar last night now knows. I don’t think it’s a big deal, but it creeps me the **** out. Especially since he killed Habren. He killed that wonderful woman, an ancestor of some sort. For all I know, he’ll stab me in the gut for laughs.

All of this happened last night. All of this happened while Nik took off his clothes and danced atop the bar. While Kenlie crawled around like the city’s classiest stripper. While Kae covered her eyes, looking for all the world like she wanted to gouge her eyes out.

I doubt a night like last night will ever happen again. Then again, I thought the same thing about the night before last. I guess we’re a crazy bunch.

I wonder what will happen at the Christmas party this Friday. I really hope I don’t work that night. I haven’t checked my work schedule. That’s what I should have been doing instead of grinding in the bar. It’s a good thing I don’t give a damn.

[Clover]

par·ty

/pärdē/

a social gathering with guests, usually including food, drinks, and entertainment

“there’s a Christmas party this Friday”

---

I can’t wait for this party. It’s been a long time since I went to a party, let alone a Christmas party. I think the last party I went to was one thrown by June, or maybe it was one of her friends. I drank way too much champagne and ended up spending the early morning hours hunched over the toilet, vomiting my guts out. I had fun though. I think. I never really recovered all the memories.

Last night, Kenlie asked about attire. I didn’t think about the attire, what I should wear to the party. Like I said, it’s been a long time since I went to a party. I’m not really one to care about dressing up, so this is new. I want to look nice. I’m guessing leather leggings and a ripped t-shirt aren’t acceptable. Leggings and skinny jeans are pretty much all I own. This is what I’m worrying about now. Clothing. I just don’t want to make a bad impression.

Ishaq keeps stressing that we should be ourselves, but I don’t want to wear what I usually wear. I want to look nice. I want to look back and remember this occasion. This is the first man I’ve gone out with in the last six years, give or take. And after how happy Zach looked. I just want to keep moving forward.

My life isn’t over, not in the way that I imagined. And when I lose myself in these little things, I feel human again. All of this writing and I didn’t come up with a solution to my problem. Maybe it’s not that big of a deal. If I need to dress to impress, we have a ******* problem.

[Clover]

com·pat·i·ble

/kəmˈpadəb(ə)l/

two or more things able to coexist or occur without conflict

“sometimes it’s like we aren’t compatible”

---

Do we all bond over shared blood? I know it’s not that way for siblings, but what about between sire and childe? Why would a sire turn someone that he or she wasn’t compatible with? Is there really a way to guarantee compatibility? No. I keep stressing this because it bothers me a great deal and I can’t really talk to anyone about it. Revealing the things I reveal in writing would be suicidal. I haven’t reached the point where I can share every detail of my life with someone else.

I hated my sire. Now I dislike him. Sometimes it’s different. I can say with certainty that there’s no solid connection. Whenever I see him face-to-face, I don’t feel what I feel when I see my friends. I think this, and it’s outrageous, but--I wouldn’t feel anything if he were to die. I wouldn’t care if he went to the shadow realm and never came back. That eats away at my insides. I feel guilty for the thought. I feel like I don’t deserve to carry the Fforde name. Jesse is Fforde. If I don’t really care about him, then where does that leave me?

I sound selfish, but these are my thoughts and not yours or his or hers or anyone else’s. It seems simple enough to forget about having a sire, but I feel this emptiness. I feel this pull, just like I felt the pull when I fed for the very first time. It’s a basic need. I know that. I need someone there, someone I can trust. Someone to answer my questions. Why do I have to ask other people? I don’t have to ask. But I’m more comfortable--

I was supposed to spend time with Jesse and Kae, but I screwed it up. They don’t get my sense of humor and it pisses me off every single time. I stayed though. I didn’t want to, but I stayed. I thought, “Hey, Clover. Give it another shot.” We might have things in common, but we’re very different. They had similar reactions and I just didn’t fit in.

I stomped all the way to the Handle Bar and I lost control. My jacket’s ruined--all the buttons popped off and I’m pretty sure I ripped out the pockets. The longer this goes on, the angrier I get. The more I take it out on the people around me. I know it’s ridiculous, but I’m struggling to control my anger. I’m struggling to figure out what’s wrong. What’s wrong with me. What’s wrong with them.

I’m not going to the party tomorrow. It doesn’t matter that I wanted it and asked Jesse for it. I’d rather not see anymore family members. I’m not in the mood to deal with them, just like I’m not in the mood to deal with the holiday season. I’d rather gorge myself on blood and play Super Mario Bros.

I’m just so frustrated with all of this. I didn’t get to talk to him about anything important. Like the fact that **** has been exploding around me. Don’t worry, Jesse. I’ve got this.

[Clover]

ser·pent

/sərpənt/

a large snake; a sneaky or treacherous person

“it’s a two-headed serpent”

---

I went to the Christmas party. I had asked too many people to back out of the event. I had Victor, Kenlie, Nik, and Mabel going to the party, so I would have been leaving them. We waited until later in the evening. Apparently, we missed most of the people. I can’t really complain, since big crowds have been bothering me lately. I missed Renee. I might have missed Ursa as well. I’m sure there were more, but I’m not involved enough to know the names of the rest of the family members.

I decided on a dress for the party. It went to mid thigh, maybe a little higher (it felt too short, since I’m used to leggings and jeans). It was black on the bottom with a red leather bust. I cut out a picture of the dress, so I’ll try to remember to tape it to this book. I wanted to look great for Nik and for the event itself. As it turned out, Vic, Kenny, Mabel, and I looked amazing. I almost died (pun) when I saw them all dressed up.

I wanted Nik there, but he didn’t show. I found out he’d been shot again. I don’t remember where he was shot, or if I was told where he was shot, but he couldn’t show up to the party that way. People would ask questions. I missed him at the party, but it was for the best. I clung to Mabel for most of the night, too nervous to mingle. There were two strangers there. One was named Velveteen. I’ve heard that name, or maybe I’ve seen it. I remember now. She’s one of the ones Jesse looks up to, or maybe she’s one of the ones that took him in. I’m still unsure about that situation. It makes no difference to me. He can choose his own family, after all. And while I love knowing I can reach out at any time, I’m not interested in that part of the family.

Ishaq wanted to know if Mabel and I were sleeping together. I almost said yes, just so he wouldn’t get the idea that he had any chance. It’s funny how protective I am of her. We just met. It’s funny how protective I am in general. I guess it’s because that’s always been my role. I’m off topic. After that moment, after Ishaq asked about Mabel and I having relations, the party began to die. It was a slow process, and then all at once.

Jesse left. He’d given Fforde members their gifts and we all opened them. I know one of them got a lighter. I was too busy trying to avoid opening my gift. He and Kae had gone shopping for my gift, the shopping trip I’d abandoned. I didn’t want to know what they’d found. I didn’t want to open the gift in front of strangers. But in an awkward lull, I finally opened the gift. It was a jade bracelet, probably the nicest piece of jewelry I’ve ever gotten. It’s the nicest jewelry I own. Hands down.

After baiting Kae, I learned that Jesse had been the one to pick the gift. Can you imagine a grown man shopping for jewelry, for jewelry that isn’t a quick wedding ring or engagement ring? He made up for the eye roll and smart comment he’d made at the mall. On top of that, the rest of us took the party out into the back of the house and had a smoke. I don’t know what happened with Ishaq. Vic said the guy “pussied out,” or something along those lines. Vic, Kenny, Kae, Mabel, and I passed it around like we were sharing a Sunday dinner. There was something about the action that was relaxing.

When I left the party, I decided to start looking for Christmas presents for Jesse and Kenny. It’s the beginning of the process. I might get presents for everyone. I might not. I know that there’s some etiquette involved in gift giving. If I receive a gift from someone, I have to send a gift back to that person. With that logic, I’m obligated to get Renee and Jesse gifts.

Where do I start?

I thought about giving Jesse something to deal with snakes, just like the bracelet he gave to me. I thought about giving Renee jewelry, just like the jewelry she gave to me. I couldn’t just give them money.