Chapter 2

Megan took her job of finding just the right nanny seriously over the next few weeks.  I lost count of the number of interviewees who came and went until she finally settled on a young, British woman, named Cynthia Aimsworth.

Twenty-four, beautiful, and full of life, Cynthia was trained and certified as a nanny in the United Kingdom before making her way to the United States.  She was a believer in the paranormal, but not fearful of it. Of course, we said nothing to her about the fact that her charge could become a vampire at any time, but Megan was certain that, if he did, it wouldn’t frighten Cynthia away.  Since that was a concern of mine, it was one of the first things that she assured me of.

Although her primary duty would be to care for Joseph, Cynthia had a strong interest in the paranormal and magic. Again, this was a perk for a household such as ours.

After checking and double-checking her references, Megan made the arrangements to bring her into the household and introduce her to my son.  I didn’t interfere.  Partly because of the concern that Megan expressed about my not trusting her, but it was mainly because I was wrapped up with my research.  I was on the cusp of a discovery. I could feel it in my bones.  Because of this, it was all consuming.  If it wasn’t for the fact that I was breast feeding my son, I doubted I’d have had the presence of mind to stop and spend time with him.  Such was my drive to beat the clock and find a cure before vampirism took hold of his tiny body. And, such was my complete and total faith in Megan’s care of him.

Although I trusted Megan’s opinion and choice in a nanny, I was a little reluctant to see Cynthia take over Joseph’s care.  I actually abandoned my research for a few days while I joined Megan in monitoring how well she did with him. After several days, my friend and I felt confident enough to allow her the freedom of caring for my son while we buried ourselves in research.

Once again, my routine of pouring myself into my research while stopping to nurse my son came into play.

Unlike Megan, who was unphased by all aspects of the human body, I discovered that Cynthia was uncomfortable with my baring my breast in front of her. So, I excused her from the room until my son was fed and called her in afterward.  It was a little less convenient, but I understood that she wasn’t cut from the same mold as Megan, nor was she a doctor like me.

With Megan by my side, I was able to make  strides with my progress.  Within weeks we were testing the cure against my blood.

“It doesn’t seem to hold,” I complained as I watched the virus dissipate, only to resurface a few hours later.  I slammed my fist onto the countertop so hard that the microscope walked a few inches.

“Maybe you should take a break,”  Megan suggested.

“We’re so close,” I protested.

“You’re tired,” she said as she inspected me closely. “You look pale and there are dark circles under your eyes.”

“Did you finish getting all of the ghosts from my old house?” I asked.

She gave me a stunned look.  “I did.”

“What was the problem with Matilda?  Why was she stuck?” I asked.

“I don’t think that this is the time to have this conversation,” she said, warily. “I think that this is the time to tend to whatever’s going on with you?”

“What’s the issue? Why was she stuck?” I demanded in a tone that sounded mean and vicious to my own ears. I felt bad about using it on her, but I couldn’t bring myself to apologize.  As crazy as it sounded, I felt like I was going to explode at any moment and that being nice would only accelerate that fact.

After a long silence and an intense glower, she said, “She was looking for Evan.”

“Don’t tell me that he had some ‘thing’ going on with a ghost,” I moaned.

“It’s not like you think,” Megan said.  “Remember the argument that she said she had with her brother?  The reason why she hid in the third floor apartment to begin with?  Well, the argument was over Evan.  She wanted to run away with him.”

“No. No. No,” I wailed as I placed my fingertips over my temples.

“Evan had no clue,” Megan quickly said.  “Not when she was alive or a ghost.  He barely knew the girl. It was all a made up fantasy in her poor depraved mind.”

“I don’t understand,” I moaned as I placed my elbows on the countertop and rested my face in the palms of my hands.  “I have a headache.”

“I think you need to be seen by the doctor,” she insisted.

“I think you need to finish this unbelievable story,” I snapped.  “How could she want to run away with a man who you claim didn’t know she existed?”

“I didn’t say that he didn’t know that she existed.  I said that he was unaware of her wanting to run away with him.  He’d met her on a few occasions and she began to obsess and fantasize over him,” she explained. “You can imagine her disappointment when she appeared in front of him as a ghost and he didn’t even recognize her.  When Evan said that his focus was on army duty before he met you, he wasn’t telling tales.”

“How did she meet him?” I asked with genuine curiosity.

“Believe it or not, the former funeral director also used his cremation oven to destroy zombies when Evan brought them to him,” Megan said with humor.

“I’m surprised Evan never said anything,” I mused.

“He was a good one for keeping his mouth shut, wasn’t he?” Megan chuckled.

“I guess he was at that,” I said with a grin. “He definitely wasn’t one to kiss and tell.”

“They broke the mold when they made him,” Megan said with a wistful air.

I gave her a thoughtful look. “I’m sorry.”

She arched her brow. “For what?”

“You really liked Evan.  I should have stood back,” I pouted.

“As I recall, I told you to move ahead with him.  It was clear that he only had eyes for you,” she said with an air of finality.  “I was attracted to him, but not in love with him.  It’s all good.”’

 “I did love them, you know,” I whispered as a tear rolled down my cheek.  “I loved Peter.  I loved Max.  I loved Evan.  I loved them and I lost them and it hurts. It really, really hurts.”

“I know,” she said as she patted my hand.  “I also know that if any of them were here, they’d be insisting that you seek medical care.”

“I happen to be a doctor,” I grumbled.

“You’re a doctor who needs to see a doctor,” she said with emphasis.

After a piercing pain shot through my temples and the time it took to recover, I said, “You win.  I’ll go.”

Since it was time for Joseph’s check-up, I arranged for the doctor to set aside enough time to check me over as well.

Two days later, my son and I were sitting in the examination room.  Joseph got a clean report. He was a normal, healthy human. Not so with me. I was in transition. I was  turning vampire.