A Midsummer Eve's Tale

A Midsummer Eve’s Tale

by Mad Margaret

Eighth installment in the AU Willie Loomis World Series. The time period is different from the original source material. The first story begins with Willie’s birth on December 25, 1956. He is 32 years old at the beginning of this story.

Willie Loomis tries to balance the various facets of his life in addition to the social inequality of his romantic relationship. It’s Midsummer’s Eve, when the Collins family holds their annual ball and all the ghosts come out to play.

Warning: Explicit language.

Willie/Carolyn (with OC Sammi, Liz, Roger, Barnabas/Julia, Maggie/Joe, David/Hallie, and some spectral friends).

Two Years Later. July 1988

“Willie, why do I haveta take a nap? I’m not a baby.” Sammi crossed her arms in defiance.

“Because we’re gonna be up real late tonight, and I don’t want you gettin’ grumpy,” her father replied as he carefully hung up the lacey lavender dress on a padded hanger.

“Why do I haveta wear that dumb dress? I hate dresses.”

“That’s no way to talk about such a pricey present. Carolyn bought this for you especially for tonight. The midsummer eve’s ball is a big deal at her house.”

“I don’t wanna go to that party; I wanna go to the beach and play with Sarah. There’ll be a big bonfire.”

“The ghost roast won’t be till later. We’ll cut out of the ball early and head over,” Willie promised.

The little girl smiled briefly but soon her concerns returned.

“I won’t like their fancy dinner.”

“Wha’d I always teach you? Never turn down free food, ‘cause someday you might not know where your next meal is comin’ from. Trust me, it happens.”

“I won’t know anyone.”

Willie sat down next to his daughter and gave her a hug.

“Now, that’s not true; you know me and Carolyn and Mommy and Joe.” He pulled out a sheet of paper and pencil and began to draw a crude family tree. “You only need to know the folks at dinner, not the party after. Here, I’ll write them down for you. First off, there’s Elizabeth Collins Stoddard; that’s Carolyn’s mom. Her brother is Roger and he has a son named David.”

“Will David play with me?”

“He’s sorta old for that, seventeen, I think. He’s bringing his girlfriend, Hallie.” Again the child looked deflated. “Then there’s Mommy—”

“Why is Mommy even invited? Carolyn said you’re coming as her date, and I’m coming as your date.”

“’Cause she works for Mrs. Stoddard now, as like a secretary or somethin’. It was real nice of her to give Mommy a job after she had to sell that money-pit diner.” He shook his head, not understanding how Maggie could ruin the coffee shop when there were so few eateries in town. He returned to the chart. “So Mommy will be there and Joe will be her date. Now, over here is Barnabas, he’s a—cousin, and his wife, Julia, who’s a doctor, and she’s bringing her nephew, Gene; he works as a therapist at the same place I do. Nice guy.” Willie folded the paper. “You can stick this in your shoe if you need it. When I wanted to hide somethin’, I always stuck it in my shoe.”

“That’s gonna make a smelly paper.” Sammi took the chart and pushed it into the pocket of her overalls. “Let’s have a snack!”

“No junk food for you today. We’re eatin’ seven courses of rich people food tonight. Let’s have a nap instead; I’ll take one, too. Do you want the bed or the couch?”

“I wanna nap with you.”

“Some folks might think that’s not a good idea, and I don’t want them to have any excuses to take away our weekend visits.”

“Okay,” the girl pouted. “I’ll take the couch.”

“No TV. Promise.”

She nodded reluctantly as her father closed the bedroom door behind him. Sammi pulled out her storybook from under the cushion and read more of Horton Hears a Who, the story of a sensitive elephant who, despite criticism and harassment, risked everything to save a planet of tiny people who lived on a speck of dust, with the help of the world’s smallest child, Jojo.

When she thought it was safe, the child tiptoed into her daddy’s bedroom and snuggled with him under the covers.

“Why do we haveta go so early?”

“Why are you such a whiny brat?” Sammi buckled her shiny, white dress shoes as Willie struggled with his bow tie.

“Carolyn wants to do your hair all pretty, so you’ll look like a princess. Do you want me to paint polish on your nails? You know, I’m pretty good with a paint brush.”

“No, that’s okay.” The little girl looked on at her father’s frustrated attempts to conquer the neckpiece. “You look funny in those clothes.”

“Thanks a lot. I’ll have you know this is a tuxedo, and I can’t get it dirty, ‘cause it goes back on Monday—or right now if I can’t get this damn tie to cooperate.”

“You said a bad word.”

“Sorry. Don’t you do that now, especially tonight. Best manners, okay?”

“I said a bad word yesterday and Joe hit my butt.”

Willie’s head spun around. “He did what?”

“Yeah,” the youngster continued enthusiastically. “I fell down on the floor and was bleedin’ all over the place. I nearly died!”

“Let’s see that moneymaker,” Willie responded, examining the child’s face. “You look okay now.”

“It got better,” Sammi answered dismissively.

Willie whipped off the tie. “C’mon, I’ll get Carolyn to do this son of a b—uh, let’s just go.”

“Remember, be polite. No throwin’ food at the dinner table.”

Willie and his daughter stood just outside the front entrance at Collinwood as Roger opened the door. Sammi was immediately put off by the snooty man’s reaction to seeing them.

“Hey, Mr. Collins, this is my daughter—”

“Samantha Lydia Evans Loomis,” the child finished.

“You’re rather early, Loomis,” Roger retorted. “And not even dressed.”

“But Carolyn asked us to—”

“There you are!” Miss Stoddard swept down the stairs in a silk dressing gown. “I’m going to play hairdresser, Uncle Roger! I have the curling iron all fired up and ready to go.” She noticed the white bow tie hanging from Willie’s neck.

“Do you need help with that?” She smiled playfully.

He nodded.

“Well, take a number and sit down. Little girls are first.”

Sammi never liked being called little, but said nothing, because that was polite. Carolyn whisked her up the staircase, leaving Willie alone with one of his least favorite people. Roger, however, repaired to the drawing room for a short brandy without comment. He did not invite the guest to join him.

Willie stood awkwardly in the foyer for a minute before venturing to speak.

“Uh, I’m goin’ out on the terrace for a smoke, okay?”

“Do as you like.”

Willie wasted no time vacating the area. He seated himself on a stone bench by the fountain and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. It was going to be a long night, and Sammi was right: They would have a much better time later on the beach. On many a night, but particularly midsummer’s eve, the dearly departed of Collinsport gathered around an enormous bonfire where they sang, danced or just chatted the night away. Some of those ghosts went way back to Barnabas’ time, others were Willie’s good friends or acquaintances.

It was going to be weird seeing Barnabas for the first time in two years, he mused as his left leg started to bounce slightly. Willie wasn’t sure how he was supposed to act. After all, he was no longer a servant, but would be sitting right there at the grand dining room table with rich folks. Barnabas never approved of a mouthy subordinate acting above his station like that.

The thought of Maggie being there also made him uncomfortable. The former couple never managed to have a civil conversation. Then there would be the vibes which would, no doubt, fly across the table between Maggie and Barnabas, and add that drug dispenser Dr. Julia and her crazy ass experiments to the mix. Boy, if Liz or Roger knew some of their dinner guests’ secrets…

“May I ask what you’re doing here?” Elizabeth stood in the doorway, poised as usual, like the queen of England.

Willie scrambled to his feet and stepped on his cigarette. “Hi, Ms. Stoddard, I was just waitin’ for Carolyn; she’s brushin’ my daughter’s hair.”

“Good, because I want to talk to you.” She ushered the man inside and took him to the study, where she closed the door behind them. “Have a seat.”

Willie apprehensively sat in a high back chair, but Elizabeth did not join him.

Instead, she paced the room, pausing occasionally to tower over her guest.

“You have been dating my daughter for two years, and while I don’t approve, Carolyn is a strong-willed woman and there’s little I can do about it.” Willie swallowed. “Neither one of you are youngsters anymore and I want some reasonable assurance that her future is secure.” The young man was confused. “What exactly are your intentions, Mr. Loomis?”

“Oh…” Willie cleared his throat, not sure which way he was expected to answer. “I-I’d like to ask Carolyn to get married, but now’s not a good time, you see. I work during the day—”

“Mopping floors, I understand.”

“I’m the custodian at Wyndcliff Sanitarium; it’s an honest job. But I been goin’ to school at night and got my GED now. This fall, I’ll start taking night classes at community college and in a few years I’ll be able to work as a therapist’s assistant and help people with PTSD; that means they got a messed up past.” He suppressed the hint of pride which crept into his voice whenever he announced these ambitious plans.

“A few years?” Liz looked aghast.

“Can’t be helped, Mrs. Stoddard. I can only take so many courses at a time, ‘cause I have to work and take care of my little girl on the weekends. Once I have a good job, I can think more about gettin’ married and stuff like that.”

“And what exactly is Carolyn supposed to do in the meanwhile? Wait for you?”

“No, ma’am, I mean that’s up to her.” He shrugged. “Look, I honestly don’t know what she sees in me.”

“Neither do I. You have an unsavory reputation, criminal record, a divorce, addiction to drugs and alcohol, and a history of mental problems.” Liz didn’t add and former cohort of Jason McGuire, but didn’t have to; it was implied. “Forgive me for saying I do not see you as the ideal match for my daughter and it might be better for everyone if you went away. I believe I paid you generously to do that once before.”

“I’m sorry about that. I can try to pay you back if you want, but I can’t leave town. My daughter lives here and she needs me…I need her.”

Elizabeth seemed curiously undaunted by the dismissal of her suggestion. She crossed to the desk and opened the drawer.

“Very well, here is the alternative. I want a commitment from you which will put my daughter’s mind at ease.” She retrieved a small jewelry box. “So you will present this family heirloom to Carolyn. It was my engagement ring, my mother’s, and grandmother’s.”

Willie stared at the piece. A pink diamond, more carats than Willie had ever seen heretofore, teardrop shaped and flanked by two fair-sized white diamonds in a platinum setting. For a moment the young man forgot how to breathe.

“Well,” Liz folded her arms with a small smile. “If this union is inevitable, we might as well do it in style, don’t you think?”

“I-I guess.”

“Then let’s go into the drawing room. I believe cocktails are in order.”

Samantha skipped down the stairs looking radiant. Her messy blonde braids had been transformed into a sweeping up-do with cascading ringlets in the back.

“Who are you, miss? Where’s my Sammi?” Willie teased.

“I will be the prettiest one at the party,” his daughter announced. “Look at what Carolyn gave me to wear!” She pointed to a sapphire tiara fixed into her elaborate hairdo. “Now I’m a real princess.”

Willie thrust his hand into the pocket which held the ring box and shook his head.

“Uh, no, I’m not comfortable with this,” he addressed Carolyn as she descended the stairs in a glittery gown. “She’s a little kid and accidents can happen.” Willie did not fail to notice Liz watching them from the drawing room.

“Oh, lighten up, daddy,” Carolyn chided him. “It’s necessary to keep her hair in place. You can bring it back tomorrow.”

Willie sighed, outvoted yet again.

“What are we eating, anyway?” Sammi whispered to her father at the overladen dinner table. “There’s too many forks.”

“Don’t matter; use whichever one you want,” Willie murmured in return as he showed her the menu. “I’ll read this to you. First, we’re havin’ shrimp…ceviche.” Roger raised a brow at the mispronunciation.

“What the heck is that?” the girl responded.

“It’s somethin’ with shrimp. Just eat it. What does your daddy always tell you?”

“Tomorrow will bring new adventures.” Sammi dug into her appetizer as Barnabas looked across the room at them, a small smile on his face when the former servant quoted his master. Gene, who was having an animated conversation with Joe Haskell, grinned at Willie and gave a small wave. Maggie glared at Joe and Gene in stony silence.

The next course was turtle soup served with a rare Almontiado sherry, although the child could find no turtles in the lumpy brown broth. She observed Roger Collins sipping from a small crystal glass.

“How come everyone else has special drinks and I get fizzy apple juice?” Sammi inquired.

“Because these are grown-up drinks; there’s one for each course,” Carolyn explained.

“Well, I want some, too,” the child declared. “I’m not little, I’m big.”

“Okay,” Willie said, and Maggie’s head shot up. “Have some.”

“Willie!”

The young man held up his hand and continued. “But just a little sip, and you can’t spit it back out if it tastes like junk.”

Sammi reconsidered. “...Never mind.” The meal resumed.

The caterers moved on to serve mini lobster cakes in orange sauce with chardonnay. This was followed by a pear sorbet, which looked like dessert, so Samantha was confused. Then the main course arrived: grilled rack of lamb with pinot noir marinade and asparagus parmigiana, of course served with a superior pinot noir. Sammi started to slack.

“Your daughter is wasting a very expensive meal,” Roger complained to Willie across the dining room.

Willie was about to respond that Sammi was a small child and had little capacity to stomach such great quantities, when his daughter spoke up unexpectedly.

“Well, how about that guy?” She pointed to Barnabas. “He hasn’t touched one bite. Don’t you like your food, mister?” All eyes fell upon the vampire.

“My husband is experiencing some esophageal reflux at present,” Julia quickly intervened.

“But I continue to enjoy the company,” Barnabas added. “As always, Elizabeth, a beautifully planned feast.”

The mistress of Collinwood smiled graciously at her courtly cousin.

“Hey, Sam, just save some room for dessert,” Willie quietly advised.

Then arrived blueberry tart with lemon cream cheese infused filling, and champagne. Sammi had no problem squeezing that in and washed it down with more sparkling cider.

All in all, it was a successful experience with only a few awkward silences. These were usually broken by Joe and his lively conversations with Gene, who sat to his left.

“This was my first fancy dinner,” Sammi commented as the group migrated to the terrace for brandy and coffee. Willie didn’t understand how those people could drink any more without falling down. Back, before he became responsible, Willie had a great deal of experience in falling down drunk.

“Yeah, me too,” her dad replied.

“How’d I do?” Sammi whispered with apprehension.

“You did real good, but, uh, don’t talk to Barnabas anymore. He can get…grouchy sometimes.”

“Gotcha. Oh, and you did good, too.” The little girl patted his arm.

Dad smiled. “Yeah, well, I used all my forks and nobody yelled much.” Willie looked around. “So, listen. David said there’s a dollhouse upstairs. You interested?”

“Sure. Better than watchin’ these boring old people.”

“I agree.”

Sammi scampered off with David and Hallie to explore other regions as Willie observed Maggie and Joe arguing in hushed tones over by the gazebo. He approached them.

“We’re having a private conversation,” Maggie snapped at him.

“I don’t give a flyin’ shit,” Willie responded. “You’re confusin’ this shanty Irish bastard with somebody who’s got good breedin’ or somethin’. So, I got a coupla things to say to you two.” He turned to Joe with unmistakable menace. “If you ever touch my kid again, you stupid fuck, I will cut you, understand?”

“She learns those bad habits from you.”

“I do my best, and—that don’t matter. She’s not yours, so hands off. Now, you,” he turned to Maggie. “Why is your pop’s shotgun still in that house? I told you a bunch of times to get rid of it.”

“It’s out of harm’s way,” Maggie replied.

“Excuse me if I don’t believe that, since Sammi told me where it’s hidden,” Willie retorted. “My daughter is a very clever girl, but she’s also six, so I don’t want any firearms in her house, got it?”

Carolyn appeared at his side and took her boyfriend’s arm.

“What’s the big idea of running off and leaving me alone? Uncle Roger has decided to take a short nap, so I’ll need you to help entertain our guests.” The young woman led Willie away as Maggie and Joe continued their heated conversation.

“It looked like you needed rescuing,” Carolyn remarked confidentially. “Hold on a minute; I’ll be right back,” and she disappeared into a crowd, leaving her boyfriend abandoned mid terrace. Willie considered sneaking away for another cigarette before Sammi came back, or he could just stand there and pretend like he belonged in this gathering of the Collinsport elite.

“Don’t worry, you seem to fit in quite well, considering.”

Willie whirled around to find Barnabas who, as usual, stood too close for comfort. Willie stepped back…casually.

“However, you certainly have an outspoken child,” his former master observed. “But you also lacked a good deal of self-discipline, as I recall.”

“Sorry if she embarrassed you, but I can’t tell her not to talk. A person’s a person, no matter how small.”

“Oh, dear, what are you quoting now?” Barnabas could not suppress a smile. “Spiderman again?” Willie shook his head.

“Fortune cookie?”

“Dr. Seuss.”

The ballroom was decorated everywhere with glittering crystal and colossal floral arrangements. There were four musicians playing sweeping waltzes chosen to show off the ladies’ flowing gowns. Carolyn sipped more champagne and chatted with friends, waiting patiently as Willie did a simple side step with Sammi standing on her daddy’s shoes. But Willie prepared to treat his daughter to many more dances, especially since he didn’t know how to do those fancy steps, and that, no doubt, would embarrass Carolyn.

The young woman whispered to the musicians and then to her cousin David, who approached the couple and tapped Willie’s shoulder.

“May I cut in? You can’t keep this lovely princess to yourself all night.” Sammi giggled as the young man continued quietly. “She who does not like to be kept waiting is waiting to dance with you, my friend.”

“C’mon, she knows I don’t—”

“She just had the musicians change their tune.” David lifted his little partner into the air and danced off with her as Carolyn showed up in his arms.

“It’s a slow song, just sway back and forth, and hold me.”

“Oh, alright,” Willie conceded. “Did I remember to tell you how hot you look tonight?

“Sadly, you did not.” She sneaked in a quick kiss, which her date did not mind at all.

“I’m real sorry, but Sammi and me, uh, Sammi and I have to leave soon.

“Can I come along?” She whispered in the man’s ear.

“You know we can’t do that when Sammi’s stayin’ at my place. Maggie hates my guts, and I can’t give her any excuse…Look, I’ll see you tomorrow after I drop her off, okay? I gotta return that crown and…I think I need to talk to you about somethin’.”

Carolyn looked at him with a confused expression of happiness and bewilderment, which only made Willie more uneasy.

The specters on the beach were frolicking big time. Sammi immediately ripped off her socks and shoes and raced off with Sarah, who, even though she was older, loved playing with the child. Maybe she realized that the little girl would grow up and someday pass her, while the ghost would always remain the same.

Willie pulled off his tie as he sat on a log near the bonfire between his dead friends, Adam and Jason. He observed Bill Malloy standing off by himself, staring at the surf.

“You missed a damn fine dinner, Bill,” Willie called to him. “You should go to Collinwood and visit Ms. Stoddard some time; she sure would like that.” Then he muttered to Jason, “and scare the crap out of her.”

“Who would’ve thought that you could get your foot in the front door at Collinwood,” his partner remarked. “I hope you bleed ‘em to the bone.”

“All I know is there’s some damn weird shit goin’ down there,” Willie pulled the jewelry box from his pocket. He just wanted to look at it again, touch the lines of its facets, and perhaps show off a little.

“Mother of God,” Jason’s eyes bulged. “Is that from Collinwood? I’ve never seen that one before.”

“I’m sure it wouldn’t have still been there if you had,” Willie smiled. “Liz Stoddard gave it to me. She wants me to give it to Carolyn and get engaged.”

“What a nice lady,” Adam remarked as Willie held up the jewel for his giant friend to admire in the firelight. “You are a lucky man.”

“That has to be six or seven carats,” Jason continued. “Why on God’s good earth would Liz give that to you?”

“I dunno. It don’t make any sense; she don’t even pretend to like me.

Willie smiled. “But it sure is pretty.”

“I’ll tell you what it is, pure and simple: a trap,” Jason warned. “Don’t fall for it, boy-o, I raised you to know better. Dear Elizabeth is counting on your delinquent nature to cut out and abscond with the goods, and then she’ll turn it over to the insurance company and the police. It’s the perfect excuse to get you out of her daughter’s life.”

“Okay, now that makes sense.”

“Of course,” the Irishman grinned. “That’s what you keep ole Jason around for.”

“And ‘cause you’re my friend. You, too,” he patted Adam’s shoulder. “Which is weird, ‘cause Adam here thinks everybody’s good, and Jason, you think everybody’s bad.” Willie stood and brushed sand from his tuxedo trousers. “I gotta take my kid home; it’s late, and I’m a responsible parent, you know.”

“What about the trinket? If you’re goin’ to take off with it, do it now; don’t wait.”

“I’ll sleep on it.”

But Willie did not sleep on it, he tossed and turned, not knowing what to do with the shiny object which had landed in his lap.

Willie was cuddling with his daughter in front of the TV when two squad cars pulled up in front of the apartment building, sirens blaring. Next thing Willie knew there was a banging on his door, shortly before it burst open.

“Freeze, police!” The pack of police officers pointed their weapons as Willie jumped up and attempted to shield Sammi behind him.

“Put down your guns! I’m not armed; I didn’t do anything, I swear.”

The cops holstered their pistols and shoved Willie up against the nearest wall. “Hands up in the air!” One proceeded to frisk the suspect. “You are under arrest for grand larceny,” he said, and read Willie his Miranda Rights.

“Found it,” another officer announced, holding up the diamond ring. “And look, there’s more.” He retrieved the tiara, the sapphire earrings Willie had promised to his daughter, and a boatload of jewelry from Jason’s sea chest.

Willie was perplexed. He had long ago fenced Jason’s pilfered pieces, as per his partner’s instructions.

“This is all a mistake—” The cop pulled down Willie’s arms and handcuffed them behind his back.

“Stop it! Leave my daddy alone!” Sammi attacked another policeman with flying fists. “Carolyn gave me the crown to wear!” The man picked her up and started to haul her out the door while she flailed and screamed. “Put me down, you filthy shitkicker!”

“What are you doing?” Willie cried. “Where are you taking my kid?” He struggled to be free from the officers’ grasp.

“Your little girl is going to an orphanage, so she can be looked after by good people. And where you’re going, you’re never going to see her again.”

“No!” Willie broke away and started for the door. “Sammi! Sammi!”

He was brought down with a billy club to the back of his head.

“Willie! Wake up!” Sammi shook her dad’s shoulder and he sat up with a jerk. “You were yelling my name. Did you have a bad dream?”

“Sure did.” Wide eyed, he took the youngster into his arms and hugged tightly. “Sorry I woke you up. Did I say anythin’ else?”

Samantha considered the question. “I’m pretty sure you said ‘let’s get pizza for breakfast’.”

“Oh, I did not,” Willie chuckled. “I said ‘let’s get pancakes for breakfast,’ then I have to take you back early; I got stuff to do.”

“Uh uh, mister. You promised to take me to the park.” Willie looked uncertain. “You promised!”

“Alright.” He then noticed she was wearing the sapphire tiara. “You didn’t wear that thing to bed, did you? You could dent your skull or somethin’.”

After feasting on flapjacks and playing in the park, Willie returned his daughter to the Evans’ cottage, sparing as few words as possible to his ex-wife. She seemed to still be in a foul mood, and Joe was nowhere in sight. He then tossed the tiara and ring box (after one last look) into a paper bag and took off in his pickup truck.

Parking in the driveway, Willie raced in the front door without knocking. Liz was in the drawing room with Sheriff Patterson. Willie’s heart skipped a beat.

“Oh, Loomis, just the fellow I wanted to see. Mrs. Stoddard tells me there was an incident here last night at the ball. Care to tell me about it?”

“Nothing happened I know of,” Willie quickly responded, calmly, without stuttering. “I just came by to return this crown my daughter borrowed and the ring Ms. Stoddard gave me.”

“Gave you?” Patterson looked confusedly at Liz, who suddenly seemed at a loss for words.

“I changed my mind, ma’am,” Willie addressed the woman. “It’s real pretty and all, but I don’t wanna give Carolyn your diamond—it could cause a misunderstanding. It won’t be as nice, but I decided to buy your daughter her own engagement ring.”

“What’s that I hear?” Carolyn was standing in the doorway, a sly smile on her face. “Is there something I should know about?”

“Sure, sweetheart. I came to take you to dinner so we can talk about it.”

“Wait a minute,” Elizabeth interrupted. “Willie said he would be much too busy taking college classes, it will take years. Do you really want to make a commitment like that, Carolyn?”

“Don’t worry, Mother, Willie and I will see a lot of each other,” the young woman replied happily. “Because I’m signing up to take the courses with him.”

“What?” Liz looked truly horrified. “At a community college? Girls in our family all went to Vassar and the men went to Cornell or Harvard.”

“And I’m about to start a new tradition. You always said I should do something useful. Whatever I learn in a psychology class will definitely come in handy living with this family.”

Willie handed the paper bag to Elizabeth and tried not to smirk as they headed out the door. The sheriff cleared his throat and excused himself, a trifle embarrassed to have witnessed a family squabble; he chose to ignore anything else.

Liz silently walked over to the tall window and watched the beat-up pickup truck spit gravel down the driveway.

Willie drove in silence with his eyes focused on the road. “Blue Whale, okay?”

“Not if this is a special occasion,” his girl replied. “Let’s go to Bella Notte in Bangor…my treat.”

Willie took a deep breath. “That’s not necessary.”

“Oh, calm down. Can’t I be a financially independent woman without deflating your delicate male ego?”

“You sound like a Psych major already.” She smiled with secret satisfaction. “So, you found a whole other way to piss off your mom.”

Carolyn’s smile disappeared. “I’m getting really tired of your whining about this notion that I’m using you for mommy revenge.”

Even after two years of dating, Willie still couldn’t push from his mind the question of why a catch like Carolyn Stoddard would bother with a Brooklyn bum with a boatload of physical and psychological scars. She had dated the handsomest, most successful guys in town; even that biker, Buzz Hackett, was a graduate student in Renaissance literature. But, eventually, she unceremoniously dumped each one of them. The end of this ride, Willie always figured, was just a matter of time.

“Except for your irritating lack of self-esteem, I really love you,” she maintained, making Willie glance over at his companion. “True, you’re not tall, dark and handsome, but you’re short, blond and sort of cute. And I’m short, blonde and very cute, so we obviously have things in common.”

She continued. “Okay, big confession: I think it first started when I found you sitting on the foyer steps looking like death warmed over while Mother and Jason clawed at each other in the drawing room. You looked so vulnerable, a real change from the free-loading punk I knew. True, I didn’t think about it much at the time, but now I know that you’re sweet and considerate, industrious and a wonderful father. You’re more intelligent than you think and a real survivor.”

Willie shifted in his seat; he would never become accustomed to accepting sincere compliments. Lines like that were almost always bullshit from some crook trying to pull a con.

But Carolyn went on. “Who else could have recovered from growing up with Jason McGuire, being drugged by Julia Hoffman, committed to a mental institution and endured Barnabas at the creepy Old House all that time?”

His brow furrowed. “What do you know about Barnabas?” he asked warily.

“Do you think you’re the only person who’s ever been bitten by a vampire?” Willie’s head whipped around, causing the truck to swerve. “Keep your eyes on the road—jeez!”

“S-sorry, I didn’t—it never…”

“Maybe we have more in common than you think.”

“Christ, I hope not.”

“So much for talking about you; I’m getting bored,” Carolyn changed the subject. “Let’s talk about me.”

Willie smiled. “Okay.”

“Do you love me?”

Her companion hesitated just long enough to be annoying. She smacked his arm. “Yeah! Yeah, I love you. A lot.”

“Tell me why.”

Now it was Willie’s turn to produce a grocery list of his lover’s virtues.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I ever saw. You’re smart and classy and sensitive and-and, dammit, you smell good, you feel good. I love your eyes, I love your hair, I love your smile. You’re a firecracker in bed—and outta bed; you always say what you think and don’t take shit from nobody.”

“You forgot rich.”

“Actually, it would be a lot easier if you weren’t rich. The big thing is that your family is never gonna accept me. They would rather you marry a drunk or a ghetto rapper or even a Democrat.”

“You said the M word. Is that what we’re talking about?” she asked nonchalantly.

Willie kind of shrugged and nodded at the same time. “Yeah. If it’s okay with you.”

“That depends. You have to come to terms that I am rich and I’m not going to pretend otherwise. And just like I don’t like being told who to marry, I don’t like being told what I can’t spend.”

“Is this about who’s payin’ for dinner?” Willie looked incredulous. “Fine, you buy the spaghetti.”

“It’s going to mean more than that,” Carolyn spoke deliberately. “Other things will come up. Wedding costs, a house, and…are you really planning to buy me an engagement ring?”

“Sure. It won’t be much right now, but it’ll be kinda like a placeholder till something flashier comes along.”

“Then as an engagement gift, I want to get you a new car.” Willie burst into laughter. “I’m serious. This truck is falling apart, and it would please me.”

“Well, yeah, but…you know what folks’ll think.”

“Which is obviously more important than my happiness. Are you going to stand by and let gossip-mongers cramp my style?”

Willie sighed. He was reminded of the many times he thought of Barnabas as being pussy-whipped by every female who crossed his threshold. He suddenly felt more empathy toward the vampire’s situation.

“I don’t wanna talk about it right now. Let’s just have a fine dinner and focus on what really matters: I love you and you love me, and the other stuff will work out. But, there’s just one more thing: This ain’t just the Carolyn Show and you’re not gonna get your way all the time. I’m half a’ this couple and I get a say too. See, I do so have self-esteem.”

They rode in silence for a few minutes, until Willie wasn’t sure if he had mouthed off too much. He knew Carolyn was short tempered and was used to being accommodated on every whim at all times. When denied her desires, she invariably went ahead and did it anyway, and that would probably never change. He could acquiesce or he could walk away. Carolyn observed that familiar, sad, puppy dog expression creep across his face.

“Very well,” she said at length. “We’ll split the dinner bill.”

Willie reached his right hand across the ripped vinyl upholstery and clasped hers. She squeezed back.

Marie Maginity is the author of the Willie Loomis World Series, writing under the name Mad Margaret. She also writes for The Collinsport Historical Society and political blogs. She has a BA in Theatre and works as a professional actor, director and drama teacher. She once conned her way into a newspaper job as a reporter and later became a proofreader, copy editor, feature writer and assistant editor. She lives in the suburbs of Philadelphia with one husband, two daughters and two cats.