Jane Vows Vengeance

  Walter kissed the top of her head. “Are you done now?”

  “For the moment,” Jane said.

  “First of all,” said Walter, “they wouldn’t let you wear your wedding dress in a mental institution. Second, you don’t need a club card at the A&P anymore. You automatically get the sale price.”

  “Really?” Jane said. “Well, that just makes it worse. The clerk was deliberately being difficult, and it was obvious I needed those daisies. Who does that to a bride on her wedding day?”

  Walter stroked her hair. “I have an idea,” he said. “What would you think about postponing the wedding?”

  Jane pulled away. “You don’t want to marry me,” she said. Her lip began to tremble.

  “Of course I want to marry you,” said Walter. “But not if it’s going to put you in an institution. And I’m not talking about postponing the entire wedding. Just this one.”

  “This one?” Jane said. “I don’t understand.”

  “We could have two weddings,” Walter explained. “One would be just for us. We can do it during our trip. Then, when we come back and we have more time to plan, we can do it again for all of our friends.”

  Jane considered this plan. “Can we do that?” she asked. “Just get married, I mean.”

  “I don’t see why not,” said Walter. “All we really need is the marriage license. It doesn’t matter where we have the actual wedding. We can take it with us and have someone marry us wherever we want to.”

  “You really wouldn’t mind?” Jane said.

  Walter shook his head. “I don’t care where I marry you, or what you wear, or whether you’re carrying a bouquet of daisies from the A&P or a bunch of—what did you scream earlier?”

  “Casablanca lilies?” said Jane.

  “No, the other one,” Walter said.

  “Stephanotis?” Jane suggested.

  “A bouquet of stephanotis,” said Walter. “All I care about is marrying you.”

  “It really would be less stressful,” Jane said. Then a horrible thought came to her. “But what about your mother? She won’t like this at all.”

  Walter smiled. “Don’t worry about her,” he said. “I have a cunning plan. I’ll explain it at the war council this morning.”

  “War council” was what Walter had come to call the daily meeting between Jane, Lucy, and Miriam as they attempted to pull together a wedding in record time. Really, it was just the three of them sitting in the kitchen of Jane and Walter’s house as Jane and Miriam quarreled over the details and Lucy played referee and did the bulk of the actual work.

  And so at several minutes past eleven in the morning, Walter stood before the three women and announced in a firm voice, “The wedding is off.”

  “Only temporarily,” Jane added as she saw Miriam start to leap to her feet with a triumphant expression.

  Miriam remained seated and scowled. “What kind of nonsense is this?” she said. “I thought you wanted to be married before you go on this ridiculous trip of yours.”

  “We’re going to get married in Europe,” Walter told her. “In England. That’s where Jane’s family is from, so it’s a way to include them.”

  “But they’re dead,” Miriam said, looking pointedly at Jane.

  “It’s symbolic, Mother,” said Walter.

  “We’ll have another wedding when we come back,” Jane added. “You know, with a dress and flowers and shrimp puffs.”

  Miriam snorted. Jane glanced at Lucy and saw that she too looked slightly distraught.

  “I knew you’d find some way of cutting me out of the wedding,” Miriam said, looking neither at Jane nor Walter but condemning them equally with her tone.

  “But we’re not,” said Walter. “You haven’t heard the rest of the plan. You’re coming with us.”

  “What?” Miriam said. “Going with you?”

  Walter nodded. “Lucy too,” he said. “And Ben and Sarah if they want to come. You’re all invited as our guests.”

  “It would be a kind of traveling wedding party,” Jane told them. “We’d follow the itinerary of Walter’s house tour.”

  Miriam sighed. “I’m too old to be traipsing around Europe in the wintertime,” she said.

  “Nonsense, Mother,” said Walter. “Last year you went hiking in Nepal.”

  “We had Sherpas,” Miriam snapped. “And llamas. That’s hardly the same thing as wandering around the moors with damp feet. I could get pneumonia.”

  “With a bit of luck,” Jane murmured, just loudly enough for Miriam to hear.

  “Well, do as you like,” Walter told his mother. “Lucy, will you be coming with us?”

  Lucy grinned. “Absolutely,” she said.

  “What about Ben and Sarah?” asked Jane. “Do you think they’ll come?”

  “There’s only one way to find out,” Lucy said. She removed her iPhone from her pocket and tapped the screen three times. “Hi, Rabbi Cohen,” she said a moment later. “I have a question for you.”

  As Lucy spoke with Ben, Miriam resumed her campaign of grousing.

  “I don’t see why you’re abandoning the wedding after everything we’ve done,” she said.

  “That’s just it,” said Jane. “We haven’t really accomplished anything.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Miriam told her. “There are only a few minor details to iron out.”

  “That’s right,” said Jane. “Like the dress, the flowers, the cake, the rings, the reception food, the—”

  “Why must you always be so negative?” Miriam interrupted. “We know where the reception will be held.”

  “Only because there was only one place available on such short notice,” said Jane. “And now that we’re not having it at all, I don’t mind telling you that I wasn’t terribly thrilled about the idea of having my wedding reception at the Elks Lodge. It’s such a dreary place.”

  “It’s a blank canvas,” Miriam argued. “We could have done anything we like with it. It would have been marvelous. But no. You had to go and put this wild idea in Walter’s head just to spite—”

  Walter stopped her. “Mother, this was my idea. Now, Jane and I are going to Europe and we’re going to be married while we’re there. We’d like you to be there with us, but if you won’t come, then you won’t come.”

  Miriam shook her head. “I just don’t know. I’m an old woman. My arthritis,” she added vaguely. “The croup. Chilblains.”

  “Ben’s in,” Lucy announced, returning her phone to her pocket. “Well, he’s in if he can find someone to take care of Sarah. He doesn’t want to take her out of school for so long.”

  Walter looked at Miriam. “Since my mother doesn’t want to come, he said, “perhaps she could look after Sarah.”

  “Who said I’m not coming?” Miriam said defensively.

  Jane looked at Lucy. “I think I know someone who might be able to look after Sarah,” she said.

  “What a delightful idea,” Byron said. “I adore children.” Then he frowned. “But why am I not invited to come along?”

  Jane handed him a mug of coffee. “I think you know the answer to that question,” she said as she took a seat.

  “But I wouldn’t be a bit of trouble,” said Byron. “Honestly, what could I possibly do?”

  “Really?” Jane said, regarding him balefully.

  Byron waved a hand at her. “Don’t judge,” he said. “Besides, I could be enormously useful. I’ve lived in Europe much more recently than you have. I could be a kind of tour guide.”

  “You’ll be much more helpful by staying here with Sarah.”

  He sighed. “Very well. What do I have to do?”

  “I’ll let Ben explain your duties to you,” said Jane. “But I will tell you what you will not do. You will not teach her how to dematerialize, or how to glamor, or how to summon the red-eyed wolves of the tulgey wood.”

  “Of course I won’t,” Byron said. “She’d have to be a vampire for her to be able to …” He paused as an expression of de
light crossed his face.

  “And you will absolutely not do that!” Jane said.

  “You’re right,” he said. “I absolutely will not. I was just thinking aloud. Besides, you’re the one who brought up the whole tulgey wood thing.”

  “I was just making examples,” Jane replied. “I might just as easily have said ‘no playing with matches’ or ‘no cutting the tails off mice.’ I was simply using references to which you could relate.”

  “I would never cut the tails off mice,” he said, a wounded tone to his voice. “Do you take me for a monster?”

  “That’s settled, then,” Jane said, ignoring him. “I think it’s best if you stay at Ben’s house. Sarah will feel more at home there.”

  Byron’s eyes lit up. “Oh, to be in such close proximity to the rabbi’s underwear drawer,” he said.

  “You may add investigating the rabbi’s underwear drawer to the list of things you are forbidden to do,” said Jane. “Although I can’t blame you for wanting to.”

  “Do you think he wears boxers or briefs?” Byron mused as he sipped his coffee.

  “Boxers,” he and Jane said simultaneously.

  With the arrangements for Sarah’s looking-after taken care of, Jane turned her attention to the matter of Flyleaf Books. Lucy was the manager, and with both of them going away the question of who to leave in command loomed large. That afternoon Jane and Lucy gathered the staff together to address the issue.

  “Ted and I have been here the longest,” said Ned, one half of the Hawthorne twins. The boys had come to work for Jane at the suggestion of Byron, who had turned one of them (Jane could never remember which one) into a vampire.

  “True,” Lucy said carefully. “But Shelby has been helping me do the ordering.”

  Shelby Doolan was a more recent addition. She was the sister of the inept videographer who, the previous summer, had been sent to shoot behind-the-scenes footage for the eventual DVD release of Constance, the movie based on Jane’s bestselling novel. Shelby had been acting as her brother’s assistant, but in reality she had been his savior, again and again rescuing him from his own incompetence. Impressed by the girl’s abilities, Jane had offered her a position at the bookstore.

  The Hawthorne twins were not quite as pleased with the addition to the staff. Although charming, educated, and handsome, they could also be a bit careless. Furthermore, Jane had yet to entirely forgive the vampire twin (she thought it was Ned, but wasn’t certain) for his part in turning one of the actresses in the film. That indiscretion had resulted in not a small amount of bother for everyone, and as the nonvampire twin had colluded in covering up his brother’s misstep, he also could not be entirely trusted.

  Still, Jane was leaving the final decision to Lucy. She had long ago made Lucy the manager and now spent far less time in the store, supposedly so that she could devote her hours to writing the follow-up to Constance. This she had not yet done, though, and standing in the store, surrounded by the books of others, she was reminded of her failure. At the moment, however, she pushed this worry from her mind as she waited with the others to hear Lucy’s decision.

  “Shelby will be in charge,” Lucy said.

  Jane sighed with relief.

  “Yes!” Shelby said, pumping her fist.

  “But she will not make any changes in how things are done,” Lucy added. “And Ted and Ned will write me a report on how she handled things.”

  “Yes!” Ned and Ted said as one.

  Shelby glared at them, but a smile played at the corners of her mouth.

  “Good,” Lucy said. “Now get back to work. Go on. Shoo.”

  When they were gone Lucy turned to Jane. “They’ll be fine.”

  “Of course they will,” said Jane. “There’s nothing to worry about. It’s not like Shelby is going to bring in finger puppets of literary figures.”

  “Hey, those sold really well,” Lucy reminded her. “And as I recall, the Jane Austen one was the most popular. That and Charlotte Brontë,” she added mischievously.

  “I can still fire you, you know,” said Jane.

  Lucy pretended not to hear her. “I have to say, this is all going remarkably smoothly,” she said. “Sarah is taken care of, the shop situation is under control, Ben has arranged for someone to take his services while we’re gone. I keep waiting for something to not work out, but so far, so good. It’s as if this is exactly how things were supposed to go in the first place.”

  “There’s still time,” Jane said.

  Lucy rolled her eyes. “You’re such a pessimist,” she said. “Can’t you just relax?”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Jane said. “Things are going rather well. Walter got our marriage license. Ben has agreed to perform the ceremony. All I have to do is show up.”

  “See?” Lucy said. “Nothing to worry about. So where is the ceremony going to take place?”

  “That’s the best part,” Jane said. “Walter has arranged for us to get married in—”

  At that moment the front door of the store opened and Miriam stormed in. “There you are,” she said, coming toward Jane. “I need to talk to you. We have a problem.”

  On a Plane

  “I DON’T WANT TO GO IN THE BAG.”

  Jane closed her eyes and groaned. “For the last time, you don’t have a choice,” she said. “It’s either get in the bag or stay home.”

  “Then I’ll stay home.”

  “That wasn’t an actual choice,” Jane said. “You have to get in the bag.”

  “Do you really think talking to her is going to work?” Walter asked, taking the seat next to Jane’s in the airport boarding area.

  Jane looked at Lilith. The small brown Chihuahua was sitting in her lap. Because Lilith was missing her right front leg, she had to lean against Jane to remain upright. Neither Jane nor the dog was pleased with this arrangement.

  “Oh, I think she knows what I’m saying,” Jane told Walter.

  In truth, Lilith knew exactly what Jane was saying. The ability to communicate with animals, at least on a limited basis, was one of the powers Jane possessed by virtue of being a vampire. Walter reached over and scratched Lilith’s ears. “Who’s a good little girl?” he said in a high voice.

  “I’m going to bite him,” Lilith announced, and Jane felt her straining forward.

  “I think she’s just a little anxious,” said Jane, putting her hand across the little dog’s chest to prevent her from lunging.

  As it turned out, the pressing problem Miriam had announced in the bookstore was that the airline on which she was flying (Walter had been unable to get additional seats on his and Jane’s flight) would not allow her to take Lilith in the main cabin. “They want to put her down below!” she’d wailed. “With the luggage.”

  As a result, Walter and Jane had agreed to take Lilith with them. Having already put Miriam on her flight, they were now waiting to board their own. Lucy and Ben, booked onto yet a third flight because Ben wanted to use his accrued miles, were waiting at their airline’s boarding area in another part of the airport.

  “Attention, passengers on flight 739 to London. We will begin boarding momentarily.” The voice coming over the loudspeaker was overly cheerful. “We remind you that all animals accompanying passengers in the main cabin must be confined to their airline-approved carriers.”

  Jane picked Lilith up and, before the dog could protest with her teeth, dropped her into the zippered carrying bag in which she was to spend the next eight hours. “There you go, sweetie,” she cooed. “Now be good.”

  Lilith responded by barking loudly.

  “Shh,” Jane said as some of the other passengers eyed her with irritation.

  “I won’t,” Lilith said. “In fact, I’ll keep it up for the entire flight if you don’t get me something good to eat.”

  “Like what?” Jane said.

  “I want one of those sausage muffin things,” Lilith said.

  Jane groaned. “And where am I supposed to find that?” she said
.

  “I smelled them when we came in,” said Lilith. “One of those restaurants we passed must sell them.”

  Jane looked at the clock. “There’s no time,” she said.

  “Yip! Yip! Yip!” Lilith let loose with a barrage of high-pitched protests.

  “Fine!” Jane hissed. “But you promise—not a peep out of you the entire flight.”

  “I promise,” said Lilith. “Now go get me my sausage.”

  Jane stood up. “Watch her,” she said to Walter. “I’ll be right back.”

  Walter, having heard none of the conversation between Jane and Lilith, nodded absentmindedly and returned to the magazine he was looking at.

  Jane hurried down the hallway leading from the boarding area to the main concourse, scanning the shops for one that might sell Lilith’s requested sausage muffin. Finally, when she had almost reached the end of the corridor, she saw a familiar fast-food restaurant. Rushing up to the counter, she smiled at the bored clerk. “Two sausage muffins, please.”

  The clerk shook his head. “No more breakfast,” he said.

  “Please,” Jane said sweetly. “My dog—daughter—would very much like two sausage muffins. It’s her favorite item on your menu,” she added, as if brand loyalty might count for something with the sullen teenager.

  “Breakfast ended ten minutes ago,” the boy said tonelessly.

  Jane smiled. “Perhaps you have one or two muffins still back there,” she said.

  “Like I said—” the boy began.

  Jane fixed him with a stare. “Go back there and get me two sausage muffins,” she said, focusing her glamoring powers. “Now!”

  As if he were being controlled by invisible strings, the boy turned and moved jerkily toward the back of the restaurant. He returned a moment later with two sausage muffins wrapped in paper. He handed them to Jane, who took them and asked, “How much will that be?”