We sat at the table with glasses of milk and a few of Johnny’s white chocolate macadamia nut cookies. Beverley didn’t touch hers. She seemed to be staring at a spot on the table between the cookies. So I picked up a cookie, broke it in half, dunked it in my glass, and held it there for a few seconds. I “mmmm”-ed when I ate it; Beverley glanced my way. I dunked the rest of that half. “Don’t you dunk your cookies anymore?”

She shook her head “no” in timid motions.

“Want me to warm them a little in the microwave?” Same response. “Beverley.”

“You don’t have to pretend like you want me here.” She spoke with such weariness and resigned sadness that I could have cried. “Vivian tried to be nice at first too. But I know you don’t want me either. Nobody wants me. Only my mom….”

“Beverley,” I said firmly. Reaching across the table, I took her hand. “That’s not true. I do want you here. I’ve missed watching movies with you. Eating popcorn.” Tears rolled out of her eyes, but she didn’t say anything. “But I want you to want to be here, too, and I should warn you: things are kind of crazy here right now.” I stood.

Since Vivian had left her here, I’d guess that’d be considered abandonment. That might help if this got nasty legal-wise…

What was I thinking? I was going to kill a vampire, and I was worrying about the legal ramifications of custody? I rubbed my brow. I was becoming paradox incarnate.

“Since you were last here, my grandmother has moved in with me. She’s got the room you usually slept in, but I’ll show you the other room, where you can stay. Okay?” She needed to sleep, and to wake up feeling safe and wanted.

“What did you mean, it’s crazy here?” She held my hand tight as I led her up the stairs. “I’ve always liked it here. It’s quiet, and you have such pretty paintings.”

“Well, a friend got hurt really bad. You remember Theo? One of your mom’s…friends? She needed a place to stay. A few other friends are staying here to help look after her. She’s in my room, and we have to go past there to get to the other room. She has monitors and stuff hooked up to her—don’t let it alarm you.”

As I expected, Beverley stopped in front of my open door. “What happened to her?”

“She had a car accident. You remember Celia and Johnny and Erik, right? They are helping out with taking care of her until she gets better. Erik’s upstairs sleeping because he gets the late shift. The other two went into town to get some groceries, but they’ll be back later.” If I had a chance, I’d call Johnny’s cell phone and tell him to pick up some kid stuff—like cartoon-character cereals or something.

“Do you always take care of people?”

The thread of hope in her voice made me want to hug her tight and tell her it would all be okay. But Nana had done that to me, and things still weren’t okay. “I do the best I can.”

I led her across the hall to the third bedroom. There were a few stacked boxes of my things, a laundry basket, and a twin-size air mattress on the floor along one wall. “I’ve been staying in here, since Theo’s in my room. Would you mind sharing the room with me for now?” Hands on hips, I looked the room over. “Once Theo’s better, we could make it into your room and paint it and decorate it however you want.”

“Do you really want me to stay with you?”

“Yes, of course. If you don’t mind staying with me, that is. For now, we’ll get another mattress and put it on that side for you.” I smiled. “It isn’t much, I know. But it’ll get better.”

“I like it.” She peered out the window.

“Good. I’ll go get your box.”

In the kitchen, I dialed Johnny’s cell phone.

“’Lo, Red.”

“Hey. Still shopping?”

“At the checkout now.”

I heard Celia’s voice ask, “Who’s Red?”

He whispered, “Persephone is.”

“Her hair’s not red,” Celia protested.

“You two save it for later. This is important. Get out of line—”

“I’m always out of line,” he laughed.

“I need you to get some other things.”

“Like what?” I heard him whisper to Celia, “No, don’t unload the cart yet. Red needs something.”

“Some kind of fun kid cereal,” I said.

“I already got Lucky Charms. That okay?”

I should have known. “Only if you can share them.”

“Right. Another box of Lucky Charms.”

“And get another of those air mattresses, and some sheets for it. Like some soft pink flannel ones.” Nana had brought her stock of quilts and was constantly making more, so we didn’t need blankets. “And get cookies too. Oreos. Some microwave popcorn.” I knew Beverley liked those snacks.

“Ooooo. And I had you pegged for satin sheets and champagne and strawberries, but I didn’t think our big night would come so soon. You know, Oreo crumbs are gonna show big-time on pink.”

“They’re not for…us.” I was so embarrassed and frustrated, I could hardly get the words out.

“Okay, okay. I’m wiping the image of you in pink flannel sheets and covered in Oreo crumbs from my mind.”

Blinking as if that would remove the stunned roadblock on the tracks of my train of thought, I managed to awkwardly reply, “You gotta stop, Johnny. You said you’d be good.”

“While I was there. But I’m not there. I’m here,” he declared proudly, raising his voice like a superhero. “At the superstore!”

I could imagine all the leery patrons staring at the crazy man now. “Right.” Celia’s laughter drifted through the phone too.

“Who’s moving in now?” he asked, more seriously.

“I’ll explain when you get here. Don’t forget: air mattress and sheets, popcorn, and cookies.”

“How about I make cookies? I can make ’em way better than Oreos.”

“I know. But my new guest would prefer Oreos. Trust me.”

“Asking for my trust. This is getting better all the time, Red. Buh-bye.”

I hesitated. “Bye.” It was an awkward closing, and I stared at the receiver before hanging it up. I took the box from the living room and started up the stairs with it. Beverley sat halfway up; she startled me. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Thank you.”

Shifting the box to my hip, I said, “Huh?”

“For asking them to get things for me.”

“Pink is okay, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I haven’t been a…a young woman”—I didn’t want to say “little girl”—“in a long time, and I’m sure things are different now. I’ll get up to speed if you give me a little time. I promise.”

Feeling totally lame, I put her box in the room. I didn’t even have a dresser for her to use. I couldn’t say, “Well, I’ll leave you to settle in,” because it was a box and the floor. There was no “settling” to it. I wondered if we could get her things from the apartment she and her mother had shared or if there was some police procedure to go through. Vivian wouldn’t have bothered to take her there, I was sure. Ms. Diamond seemed content to let this girl suffer and live out of a box. It hurt my heart. “They won’t be back for an hour or so. If you want to rest, you can use my bed.” It was all I had to offer.

“Okay.”

“I’ve got to check on Theo, but, um…I just wanted to say that whenever you want to talk—if you want to talk to me—about, well, about things…that’ll be okay. Or not. You don’t have to. I thought I should make sure you knew that.” I bit my lip, knowing I sounded so uncool and nervous.

I left.

Theo’s monitors remained steady; her fluid bag was still more than half full. Good for a while. I stepped back to peek into the spare bedroom. Beverley had moved her box right beside my stack of boxes. She was curled up on my bed with one of Lorrie’s sweaters, on a stuffed cat with its arms around her neck as if it were hugging her. She looked up at me. “If you need me,” I said, “I’ll be in the kitchen for a few minutes. Remember, it’s a big, old house. With creaky floors. I figured I should let you know where I’ll be.” A quick, apologetic smile flashed across my face.

Beverley put her nose down to the sweater, breathing deeply of the scent of someone who could never again comfort her. Someone who should never have been taken away.