Page 122 of Undead and Unwed
“Even better if you buy the house under your business name,” he said to Heaven. “The government doesn’t notice if businesses live forever.”
“Heaven?” I asked, my eyes shining with hope.
She looked at the inn. “So this would be mine, the headquarters of Radiance Global Life Coaching?”
“Absolutely. If you would have me, I would like to stay on in some capacity, but you can banish me to Provo if you want,” Vlad said, bowing his head in deference.
“I’m not stupid,” she said. “I want the leader of the vampires and his bride on the premises.”
On the Epiphany, January 6, 2025, I was born again not as a divine being but as a woman who knows her own power. I am not a girl born in 1996 who spells her name with a -y, not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’m Tiffenie. I drink blood but I don’t wear matte lipstick. I’m sort of into crystals and I never do the dishes, mostly because I don’t cook. And I don’t like garlic because it’s gross, not because it has magical powers or whatever.
I live in an inn with unclear branding (forward all questions regarding Radiance to Heaven) and will believe forever that I look like RachelWeisz. (Not having a mirror can be a good thing.) I live with my best friend, who’s more like a sister, even if she calls herself my landlord, and my fiancé, whom I’ve been dating for three hundred years.
And no, there won’t be bridesmaids at my wedding.
Radiance Global Life Coaching is still working on its branding. Are we a bed-and-breakfast, an all-night coffee shop, or a blood bank? Who’s to say? Maybe we don’t need to define it. There’s too much focus on branding these days. Not everything needs to go in a box with a label on it. At any rate, today we’re hosting a wedding.”
I couldn’t help but smile.
“We are celebrating the marriage of Jessica and Tyrone in about an hour.” I spoke into the camera for a little GRWM on Heaven’s account. She had started outsourcing social media to me (at her own risk) so she could unplug for a day here and there. “So let’s get ready! I don’t like to use foundation, but I have some highlighter and some concealer for these undereye bags. A dramatic eye is always good. Swipe some liquid liner on your lash line and then”—I dug in Vlad’s wallet for a card and held it up—“use your boyfriend’s black card for a straightedge.”
After I finished applying a perfect swipe of eyeliner, I slipped on my dress and did a spin for the camera. “Let’s do a fit check. As you can see, it’s a Chrithmas wedding. I have mixed feelings about that, but I love Tyrone and Jessica.”
Vlad knocked on the doorframe wearing a tuxedo and looking like an absolute three-course meal. “Are you ready?”
“Almost. You need to sign this.” I passed him the card for Tyrone andJessica. We had foregone the Target registry and were instead giving them all the money from the Cayman Islands account. Vlad and I had flown down to close the account and do the beach thing.
While Vlad signed the card—“Congratulations. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do”—I slipped on some shoes. “Vlad, will you help me with this?” I handed him a sprig of mistletoe.
He held it over my head and leaned in for a kiss. “After this is over, I’m going to rip this dress off of you with my teeth.”
“Yes, please, Vladdy.” I nuzzled his neck and smiled with the contentment of loving and being loved.
He pinned the mistletoe in my hair and said, “But in the meantime, Jessica needs you. She needs something old for good luck.”
I rolled my eyes. “Sick burn, Vlad.”
“Just kidding. I think she needs help with some sort of woman thing. Perhaps she’s having feelings,” he joked.
With a meaningful glance, I said, “I’ll send you then.” We’d been doing couples counseling and it turned out Vlad was more in tune with his feelings that I was with my own. Vampires aren’t well-adjusted, but at least the older ones have more practice.
Downstairs, the atmosphere was buzzing with excitement. Everyone was in their wedding finery. A high-school string quartet was as close to Yo-Yo Ma as you could get in Valentine. Guests were ordering themed drinks while they waited for the ceremony to start. The Santa’s Choice was a neat whiskey with a cookie on the side. There was one for Jessica that looked too sweet. The only virgin cocktail on the menu was the blood sourced from Utah, available upon special request only. It was called the Happily Ever After, natch.
THE END
