"I'm not whining. I'm trying to explain," he said, shooting his arms out to the side and nearly smacking me. I refused to flinch.
She snapped back at him. "Evading and lying is more to the point. You can't imagine how disappointed I am in you."
"Actually, Mom, I've got a pretty good idea. I got in over my head. I did some stupid things. I'm disappointed in me, too. But that doesn't change the situation. I'm still… what I am," he finished, dropping his hands between his knees.
"A vampire? Cameron, really!"
"Smile, Cameron," I suggested.
He rolled his eyes at me and made an ugly grimace. His lips peeled back from his teeth and his too-sharp canines glinted in the light. Colleen recoiled and stared.
"Andrew Cameron! Stop that. Who did you persuade to mutilate your teeth like that?"
"They're not fake, Mom," he said. "They came with the outfit, so to speak. So did this." He shimmered a little and became Grey. I spotted him right off this time, and grinned.
Ignoring me, Colleen jerked forward. "Cameron! Cameron! Stop that! Stop it!" she yelled. She turned her glare on me again.
I shook my head, stone-faced again. "No smoke and mirrors here."
She reached out and flailed at what seemed to her thin air. She slapped her son on the shoulder.
"Ow!" he yelped and shimmered back into the normal.
She grabbed on to him with both hands, which pulled her off the sofa. She crouched on the floor in front of him and held on tight to his upper arms.
"What did you do? Where did you go?" she demanded.
"I was right here, Mom. You just couldn't see me. I don't know how it works. I just concentrate on being gone and I disappear." He tried to shrug, but she held him too hard. "It just comes with the job, I guess."
"Can you do it while she's touching you?" I asked, half curious, half hoping to prove something to Cameron's mother.
"I can try." He shimmered away again as Colleen held on for dearest life.
She let out a wail and plopped onto her backside. "Cameron!"
He came back. "I'm still here, Mom."
"Oh, my God," she gasped and put her hands up to her face. Oblivious of her makeup, she rubbed her cheeks and temples and smeared her hands up into her hair. "My God, my God." She crumpled into a ball and began sobbing.
"Mom! Mom, it's OK. It's all right. I'm not going to hurt you or anything." He crouched down on the rug beside his mother and put his arms around her. "Mom? Are you OK?"
She wailed and pressed the top of her head against her son's chest. He rocked her and babbled soothing words. I stood up and looked around.
"Kitchen?" I asked.
"Out the other door and through the dining room," Cameron whispered, jerking his head toward a door we had not used before.
I nodded and went out.
Somehow, Colleen Shadley didn't strike me as the sort to resort to hard liquor for shock. I made tea. While it was brewing, though, I hunted up a bottle of cognac and put a good dose of the stuff into one of the cups. I juggled three full cups back out to the sitting room.
Cameron had gotten his mother back on the sofa, though she was still clinging to him a bit and sniffling.
I handed her the cup with the potent brew. "This'll help. Better drink it."
Cameron found her a box of tissues as she snuck up on her first sip. She shuddered and made a face, but took a scalding gulp and then another. Then she took a tissue and dabbed at her smeared eyes and blew her nose in a delicate, ladylike fashion.
"I–I—that wasn't good of me," she said.
Cameron patted her arm. "Mom. It's OK. You were… shocked. It's OK."
She nodded her head and drank some more tea. She set the cup down on the glass-covered table beside the sofa. "I'm sorry," she said. "I can't take any more of that muck. I need a drink."
So much for my assessment of character.
Cameron got up and went looking for liquor. Colleen, face streaked with mascara and lipstick, looked at me and raised her eyebrows.
"What am I going to do?" she asked.
Chapter 20
"Improvise." Her eyes were chasms of confusion. She started shaking her head. "No, no. I don't 'improvise. I plan things, I prepare for contingencies. This is—this is not something I have any plan for."
I started thinking out loud. "I suppose you could think of it as it Cameron had an exotic medical condition that requires a change of lifestyle. He's still your son. He's still a decent, intelligent young man. He's just… different."
Her mouth turned down in distaste. "You sound like a counselor." Cameron came back with the cognac bottle and some glasses. He poured generous measures for all of us. I gave him a sharp look.
He returned a "what?" look and a shrug. "It's alcohol, I can practically absorb it through my skin. It's not going to hurt me." He sat down next to his mother.
We sipped. Colleen Shadley gulped. She shuddered and finished off her drink.
"All right, Cam," she gasped, setting the glass down, "tell me how this happened. Help me understand it."
He refilled her glass, avoiding meeting her eyes. "Well, Mom, the details are kind of unpleasant. I did something I felt was necessary, but I did it badly. Can't we just say that it happened because I thought I knew more than I did?"
"All right. Someday I expect to get the whole story out of you, but I can let that go for now. Go on with the rest."
"I met someone who wasn't very pleasant and he took advantage of me, because I wasn't as clever as I thought."
Colleen stiffened and began to cough on alcohol fumes. She waved Cameron away as he tried to help and caught her breath on her own. "Go on," she repeated. Her eyes watered. She dabbed at them as her son talked. "I got sick."
"I remember you were ill for a while after Christmas." "More like February, Mom, but it doesn't matter. Anyhow, I was mega-sick and I didn't know why. And when I found out, I didn't know what to do. So I tried to get some help, but things haven't worked out so well. I've got a few problems to settle before everything will be… acceptable. But the plain fact is I'm a vampire, and that's not going to change. It can't be undone. I just have to live with it—or unlive with it," he added and laughed. His mother made a face. "Oh, come on, Mom. It's a joke." She mumbled her discomfort. "Mom, can you live with it?"
This time, Colleen played with her glass. "I suppose I don't have a choice. You're my son. I can't just pretend you've ceased to exist. I can't—I couldn't bring myself to… do anything to you. Are—are you really all right?"
"As all right as this gets. Better, now that you know. Harper and I are working on the rest. See, I have a plan now, like you always tell me. So it's going to be OK. But I could use some of your help, too, Mom."
"My help? What can I do?" She sounded younger than her son. "We'll have to work out some new arrangements with the trust—I can't go to classes in the daytime. And I need to make some new living arrangements, too. My car's nice, but the trunk is kind of cramped."
Her smile wobbled. "I'm sure we can think of something. Oh, Cameron, why couldn't you have gotten into some normal kind of trouble?"
"Just precocious, I guess."
We sat around the white room for another hour, working out details—including my billing. By the time I left I was envying Cam his cozy bed in the trunk of the Camaro. I dragged myself home to my own, head bobbing like a somnolent drinky-bird's all the way.
When I got out of bed, noon was cracking overhead with the bing-bang-bong of the Catholic clock. I rushed for my office.