I never thought sending emails could be a soul-draining experience; after all, it was usually such a relatively quick affair. But if there was one thing wedding planning had taught me, it was that even the most simple of actions could turn into an exercise in drudgery, and dare I say,torture.
Okay, mildly hyperbolic, but it didn’t really feel that way considering all the issues we were having. While there were still three months to our late-spring wedding, a sudden issue with an instrumental order, a caterer realizing they’d double-booked themselves, and our bakery calling us to tell us someone had tried to pose as us to cancel our order (no doubt Celestia still pouting like the baby she was. We were going on three years since she’d been ejected from the first mixer!) had us scrambling a bit more than we wanted to. Naturally, we created a password with all of our vendors after that.
And it wasn’t like the entire ordeal had been a cakewalk up to that point. While the vampire blood dealers and brewers had been simple enough to set up and actually quite excited for the event, that was about it. With everything else, it had been surprisingly difficult to get anyone to agree to a contract for an evening wedding—even the magical caterers we were referred to by our ever-growing network of friends and acquaintances. So, the few vampires I invited would be more than able to gorge themselves, but not anyone else who needed solid food.
Obviously, not an option. Naomi and my wedding was a testament to our love, but it was also a party, and if we were going to throw one, it was going to be aPartywith a capital P. Which meant no one going hungry.
Five minute break,I told myself when the urge to throw my computer was becoming a bit too strong to resist. Although I generally liked to think of myself as a calm man, something about technology and the tedium of going back and forth with someone I was trying to give my money to and seemed obstinately against making it work made me want to destroy things or tear down the moon.
Wait, Naomi loved the moon, even if she couldn’t shift.
The moon could stay. But it was on thin ice.
Picking up my phone, I saw I had a handful of texts that I’d been too busy to reply to. Normally, I would spend the very last minutes of twilight still in my bed answering anyone who messaged me during the day so I could start my night off with a clean slate. But once I saw the email about an issue with the particular instruments I’d ordered to play our first song to Naomi, everything else had been forgotten.
Would it be the end of the world if I didn’t get the traditional things I wanted? No. But Naomi had continued to share in my passion for music, and actually developed a special interest in ancient, cultural instrumentals.
She really was so perfect, in so many ways.
Which was why I had a dog now.
Well,Naomihad a dog, and Naomi now lived with me, ergo, I had a dog. Although, when I really broke it down,Brahmaguptahad a dog, because my orange cat had decided that the yorkie-mix Naomi had rescued was the strangest, most inept kitten he’d ever met and had immediately adopted him.
Which was no doubt why my friend wasn’t in his tree. Considering the time, he was probably bathing ‘Elle’, which was a nickname on a nickname considering her full, legal moniker was Lil Low Rider. We’d tried calling her LLR for a bit, but it was a mouthful and she really was a girlie girl in the end, so Elle it had become.
And if I was being frank, I loved the pup. Never thought I’d be the type considering day walks weren’t exactly my specialty, but it turned out that between Naomi and I, we managed quite well.
Kno ur busy, but wanna get drinks this week?
That was Orthallow, who often texted exactly how one would expect a New Jersey Vampire turned during the run of Jersey Shore to text.
Me:That sounds good. Honestly, I’m tempted to right now with how this night is going.
Orthallow:That bad, huh?
Me:Excruciating.
Orthallow:I gotcha. Can’t tonite. Tomorrow?
Me:It’s a plan.
Orthallow:Tnx! C u then!
I smiled at my phone. I never would have thought Orthallow and I would be texting on the regular, but he’d actually turned into a good friend. He still had his prickly bits, and sometimes I could tell that being on the outs with the coven ate at him, but forthe most part, he really enjoyed the circle of friends he’d built up using our mixers and app.
And in a surprise I never saw coming, he and Iko became chess buddies. While I knew how to play the game, it had never been a real enjoyment for me. Orthallow was good at the game, and he played blindfolded and learned to use Iko’s accessible chessboard. If that wasn’t rad as hell, I didn’t know what was.
The next text message I opened, however, gave me pause. It was from Naomi’s youngest brother, and while it wasn’t unheard of for him and I to talk, it wasn’t exactly the norm either.
Mason:Hey, know this is kind of crazy, but Maverick asked me n Reggie if he could talk with you. Wants to clear some things. I think apologize?
I stared at that almost as long as I’d been staring at my email. While I’d loved watching Reggie change his tune and become extremely close with his sister, and enjoyed her and Mason slowly healing things, the one stalwart in their hatred and behavior had been Maverick. From what I understood with how little Naomi wanted to talk about it, they were cordial during family events and texted each other on birthdays and important dates, but that was pretty much it. There was no love lost. So, hearing he wanted to talk to me a few months before our wedding?
I wasn’t quite so sure about that.
But if anything, the past few years had taught me that anyone could grow or change, so I wasn’tadamantlyagainst it.
I thought for a few more moments before typing a response back.
