"You have a lovely home, Mrs. Merit," Ethan lied to my mother. She thanked him, and the conversation about the benefits and disadvantages of living in an architectural masterpiece began. I figured that gave me at least ten or fifteen minutes to catch up with Charlotte.
Charlotte looked at him with approval, then smiled smartly at me. "He is delish. Tell me you've hit that."
"Ugh. I have not 'hit that.' Nor do I plan to. He's trouble in a very pretty package."
Head tilted, she gave Ethan's body a complete scan. "Very pretty package indeed. I'm thinking he might be worth the trouble, little sister." She looked back at me, then frowned. "Now, what's going on with you and Daddy? You're fighting, and then you're a vampire, and then you're still fighting, and now, all of a sudden, you're here. At a party.In a dress."
"It's complicated," was my admittedly weak retort.
"You two need to sit down and hash some things out."
"I'm here, aren't I?" She didn't need to know exactly how much I'd dreaded it. "And as for the fighting, he's threatened to disinherit me twice in the last month."
"He threatens to disinherit everyone. You know how he is. You've known for twenty-eight years."
"He hasn't threatened Robert," I pointed out, my voice sounding every bit the petulant little sister.
"Well, obviously not Robert," Charlotte dryly agreed, reaching out to straighten the hem of Olivia's dress. "Dearest Robert can do no wrong. And speaking of family drama, did I get a phone call to tell me my baby sister was a vampire? No. I had to find out from Daddy." She flicked the tip of my ear with her thumb and index finger.
I guess that explained why she wanted to swear at me. "Hey!" I said, covering an ear with my non-baby-cradling hand. "That wasn't funny when I was twelve, and it's not funny now."
"Act your age, and I'll act mine," she said.
"I am acting my age."
"All evidence to the contrary," she muttered. "Just do me a favor, okay?"
"What?"
"Just try, for me? For better or worse, he's the only father you've got. And you're the only immortal Merit, as far as I'm aware anyway. I don't think Dearest Robert has acquired immortality yet, but that might only require a few dollars pressed into the right hands."
I smiled and relaxed a little. Charlotte and I weren't close, but I could appreciate her hands-on approach to sarcasm. And, of course, we shared a heady dose of sibling rivalry with Robert.
"About that immortality thing," she said. "Maybe now is the time for you and Daddy to mend some fences."
My eyes widened at the sudden seriousness in her voice.
"You'll be here longer than the rest of us," she said. "You'll be alive long after we're gone. After I'm gone. You'll watch my children and my grandchildren grow up. You'll watch them, and you'll watch over them. And that's your responsibility, Merit. I know you have duties to your House; I've learned enough in the last two months to understand that. But you're also a Merit, for better or for worse. You have the ability - you're the only one of us who does - to keep them safe."
She let out a haggard sigh, a motherly sigh, and settled serious eyes on her daughter, tugging again at her dress. I wasn't sure if it was a nervous movement, something to do with her hands, or just the simple comforting act of touching her child.
"There are crazy people in the world," she continued. "Being made a vampire certainly doesn't inoculate against crazy. They say - what was her name?"
No need to ask who she meant. "Celina."
"Celina. They say she's been confined, but how would we know that?"
She turned her gaze back on me, and I saw a mother's concern, and a mother's suspicion, in her eyes. She may have wondered if Celina had been released, but she didn't know. My father, apparently, had kept his word, and hadn't revealed what Ethan had told him.
I could have spilled the beans to Charlotte, told her things that would frighten her further, things that would impress upon her the need to keep her family close, to keep them safe.
Instead, I kept the burden in my hands. "It's taken care of," I said simply.
It wasn't, of course, taken care of. Celina was out there somewhere. She knew where I was, and she probably wasn't above going after my family to show how irritated she was with me. I assumed that's what I was to her - an irritation. An unfinished project.
But if I could swear two oaths to a stranger - in front of a House full of strangers - I could swear a silent one to Charlotte that I would watch over Olivia and her older brothers and sister, and if I stayed alive long enough, over their children. I could promise that I would stand Sentinel for the family that had given me my name, just as I would for the family I'd given a name for.
"It's taken care of," I repeated, meaning it, instilling my voice with the sincerity of belief that I'd take a stake myself before I'd let anything happen to Olivia.
She looked at me for a long, quiet time, then nodded, our understanding reached, the deal done. "P.S., that dress is foul."
Startled by both the abrupt change in conversation and the comment, I shifted Olivia's weight to the side to look down at my dress.
Charlotte shook her head. "Not yours. Lucy Cabot's." She pointed into the crowd at a woman draped in a polka-dotted tent of organza. "Horrendous. No, yours is lovely. I saw it at Fashion Week, can't remember who designed it. Badgley? I forget. Regardless, your stylist did good." She cast a sly glance back at Ethan, who was chatting up my mother. "And your accessories are fabulous."
"He's not my accessory," I reminded her. "He's my boss."
"He's fine, is what he is. He could sexually harass me any day."
I glanced down at the youngest Corkburger, who blinked wide blue eyes at me as she gnawed the end of her burp cloth. "Earmuffs, much?"
" Murf," Olivia said. I wasn't sure if that was gas or an attempt to mimic my words. I bet the latter. Olivia adored me.
"Honey," Charlotte said, "it's the twenty-first century. Vampires are chic, the Cubs have a pennant, and it's perfectly acceptable for a woman to find a man attractive. These are all things my daughter needs to know about."
"Especially the Cubs part," I said, waving the burp cloth at Olivia to her joyful cheers.
She clapped her hands with the slow awkwardness and simple glee of a child.
"If you could live at Wright and Addison, you would," Charlotte predicted.
"That is true. I do love my Cubbies."