Blood Ties

17. Any Given Sunday

Adam paced in the living room waiting for the delivery. He was running out of time and getting antsy. He needed it by tonight and thoroughly cursed himself out under his breath.

“Fool!”

His mother and father were now living in the condo they owned downtown. It was the same place Eli had been living when he met his mate, so it held great significance for him, though he’d had to “sell” the place and change his name since he was supposed to have died years ago. A little bit of professional makeup was used when he went out. Along with a hat and sunglasses, it helped to obscure who he really was. It wasn’t ideal, which was why he’d moved in the first place. In North Dakota, he didn’t need to hide his face, and he had a couple of servants who did things like grocery shop and take the cars to get maintenance when that was needed. Other than that, they were going to stick close to home unless they needed to go out to visit, either his kids or some friends like Delia and Michael.

Eli had told him about the delivery service he’d used years ago when his parents still lived in Los Angeles, and they’d had a reputation for being exemplary. Luckily, they were still running, probably due to their knowledge and business acumen. Adam had made his purchase and then called Deluxe Delivery as soon as possible after that. They did same day service for an extra fee, and Adam was more than happy to pay double to get his delivery today.

He had to get it today, or the surprise would be ruined. He just wished he’d thought of this sooner so he didn’t feel so rushed.

Over a week had passed and it was Friday afternoon. Quinn was in the study and talking to her parents on the house phone, figuring out how to explain to them that she was going to transfer schools and live in L.A. for the remainder of her education. Even a partial scholarship to NYU looked good on your resume, and she was assured that they would transfer all her credits once the proper paperwork was received.

Since it was already almost February, it was too late for this school year, but she could start fresh the next semester. She’d already spoken to her friends in the play and told them she wouldn’t be at NYU once her credits were transferred. She also resigned from the play, as much as she had wanted to see that through. Quinn had loved her part in it.

Adam fiddled with his phone, making sure the ringer wasn’t on silent for the 47th time that afternoon. He wasn’t worried about anything but getting his delivery. Everything else was semantics. Deluxe Delivery stated that they would call when they arrived since the home was protected by a gate, as many in Trousdale Estates were. The income median was high, almost as high as in Malibu, Bel Air, and Paradise Cove. Things hadn’t really changed all that much in the past 50 or so years, though some of the nicer areas had suffered from a market crash a few decades ago and altered the more desired places to live. Nothing besides that had changed much, and the area was as plastic as ever, though the styles were becoming retro again. A never-ending circle.

“Adam?” Quinn called out from the hallway.

“Yes, love?” His tone was absent since he was focused on his phone and the impending delivery. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I was thinking about making myself a sandwich for lunch. You need me to warm you up some blood up?”

Adam shook his head before remembering Quinn couldn’t see through walls. “Not hungry yet.” Just anxious. “I will a little later.” If this wretched delivery gets here in time.

Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose and wondered how it was possible for him to feel like he was getting a headache when it just wasn’t feasible in his immortal body. He blamed it on stress, and once again berated himself for thinking up such a good idea at the last second. Not only would Quinn enjoy herself, but he hadn’t been to the theater in ages and wanted to become acquainted with his mate’s passions. He liked entertainment of all kinds and had even funded a fairly successful movie musical version of Passion about ten years prior. He had gotten to do that relatively early in his career, and he’d done the research on which movies had been successful in the musical genre and why. He’d made the choice to go with Passion since the recent acclaim of some of the classics being remade had been so successful.

It had been a boon and revived the musical movie genre for the silver screen. He’d enjoyed watching it come to fruition with giddy anticipation. Honestly, it had been a pinnacle in his career. Adam only wished he could do more movies in the way of Passion, but no one wanted to write a script for something like Cats or Hamilton.

Adam listened as Quinn walked into the kitchen, humming. He realized she did that a lot when she was tired or her mind was working in overdrive. It might have been stress-induced as well, but it seemed to calm her enough, even if it was the same three songs, from what he could tell.

Walking into the kitchen after her, he smiled when he saw her pulling out some deli meats and cheese and spreading them on the counter. “What are you humming, sweetness?”

She looked over at him, jumping in place. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you come in. I kind of get inside my head when I’m like this. I was humming a song from the musical I was supposed to be in at NYU. It was the part at the end after my character dies. It’s when I’m consoling my widower.”

He blinked. “Your character dies? Then how are you supposed to be singing to someone alive?” He was obviously very confused.

“Well, the musical itself is based on a bunch of fairy tales that are intertwined. Anything can happen, up to and including people coming back from the dead to give sage advice. I think, at least in this case, it was more the baker asking his dead wife for help with the baby she left behind. He doubts his abilities to be a single father, but he’s given help by a few friends he made along the way.” She paused, looking at the spatter board with a far-away stare. “I could never sing that part without getting weepy in rehearsal. It’s sad. They tried so hard to get where they were and have a child, and everything falls apart from under them. The whole point of the story, I think, is that nothing ever is happily-ever-after. You only ever get to the end of the story in the book or movie. You don’t see that the two get divorced after twenty years or one of them ending up with cancer or dead from a car accident. You only get to see as much as the storyteller is willing to provide. A neatly-wrapped package, no mystery, no more history. It’s both exhilarating and sad. People like me want to know what happens after. It’s why sequels are the norm. Look at your mom, writing Impulse and then feeling the need to delve into her other characters stories. Her wrap-up special was great, in my opinion. It was just what I needed to get my Mathilde and Harry fix. You see a lot of them in the other movies, but they’re in the background always. I needed more, because they are both so different from each other and yet so complimentary.”

She’d started to spread mayo on her bread while talking, and Adam watched as she added a few slices of turkey and some lettuce and tomato to the wheat bread. She added potato salad and grabbed a bottle of water and a fork before walking past Adam on her way to the dining room. He followed after her.

“So, the musical you were rehearsing for was sad?”

She shrugged. “And funny. It had its moments on all accounts. They recorded the original version way back when, but I have yet to find a copy of it. I heard it was epic.” She sighed.

“I can see if I can look into getting you a copy. A lot of stuff is out of print these days, but if you know the right people and enough money greases enough palms, you can pretty much get anything you want these days.” He smiled. “And I know some pretty damn powerful people. I’ll look into it.”

He leaned in to kiss her cheek, because he just couldn’t not do that. It was perfect timing, because then he was pulling back and looking at his phone as it rang. He looked up at her and stood. “Excuse me, love. I need to take this call.”

Adam walked into the living room and answered the phone before greeting the caller. “Hello?”

“Hello, sir. This is Joe from Delivery Express. Is this Adam Payne? If so, I’m outside your house’s gate right now.”

He breathed easier. “Yes, this is Adam. I’ll be with you in just a moment, Joe. Need to get shoes on.”

“Very good, sir. See you in a few.”

Not likely, Adam thought. He moved much quicker than a human, though he tried to slow himself down a bit so he didn’t come off like a Clark Kent in his newspaper reporter apparel that had stepped into a telephone booth and changed into Superman in the blink of an eye.

“Be back in a minute, love!” he called out to Quinn, who murmured back something between bites of her sandwich. “I need to get some mail.” A deliver, actually, but it was close enough. Again, he didn’t want to spoil the surprise.

Jogging toward the front gate, he used the remote in his hand to let it slide open, and watched as a young man in a crisp uniform pulled inside in a small smart car the company used for smaller deliveries.

“Joe?” Adam was anxious and walked right up to the moving vehicle as it came closer.

“Mr. Payne?” Joe put the car in park and stepped out quickly. He had a small manila envelope in his hands and an electronic gadget he used to cross off another delivery on his list. “Sorry, but it took longer than I thought it would. The line at the theater was immense. Why people are buying tickets so late for tonight’s performance, I will never know.” He shook his head, not realizing the faux pas he’d just made.

“That’s quite alright. I’m just glad they got here in time.” Adam took his wallet out and grabbed a large bill. “For your time and effort. And thank you. I’m much obliged.”

Joe smiled back at him before nodding. “Thank you, sir. I hope you don’t mind if you could just sign on the screen to show the package was delivered?”

“Not at all.” He took the device from Joe and signed before handing it back, allowing the man to be on his way to his next delivery. He didn’t even wait to get inside the house to open the envelope.

“Thank f**k,” he muttered when he saw the tickets in his hand. He knew Quinn had a love for musical theater, and he was just lucky enough that a revival of Sunday in The Park with George was being performed at the Owens Park Theater. After one of the older performance halls had burned down thirty years ago, they’d opened up a new venue down the street and turned the old location into an apartment building. Owens Park Theater had been funded by an outspoken political influencer from decades ago who had made bank with some books she’d published and decided to get into real estate. Now her children owned the property, and the theater was the most popular in all of Los Angeles.

Adam went inside to see that Quinn was finishing up her sandwich. He walked quickly up to her and leaned down, talking into her ear. “You ready for some fun tonight?”

She blinked up at him. “What kind of fun?” She didn’t sound suspicious, but definitely curious.

“Theater fun,” he quipped. “Musical theater fun, in fact. Sunday in the Park with George ring a bell to you?”

She stood up and leaped into his arms, squealing wildly as he laughed at her enthusiasm. “Oh, my God! When is it? I knew they were reviving it with a national tour, but I had no idea it had already started! Where? And when? Holy crap… Do I have anything to wear? I’ve been in jeans and shorts for a f*****g week!”

He put her down on the ground, since she’d leapt into his arms and was being held upright by him. “It’s tonight, and trust me—you have plenty to wear.” He stepped back. “Want to come and see?”