I didn’t doubt that despite my physical flaws he desired me sexually . . . but a Beloved was supposed to be so much more than that.

How could I be anything to a man who didn’t want me?

“Pia, you still there?”

“Yes,” I said, clearing my throat and trying not to sound as if I were on the verge of tears.

Instantly, her voice was filled with sympathy. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have brought up the subject of Kristoff.”

“No, it’s OK. It’s just that I had this strange dream this morning. That’s what I was calling about. You remember the messenger I told you the vampires were going to send me? I dreamed he came, and somehow you were here, and so were Kristoff and his brother, and it seemed so real until I woke up.”

“That’s how dreams are.”

“I know, but this was . . . well, different. Oh, hell, someone’s at my door. I really don’t want to see anyone.” I snatched up a box of Kleenex and dabbed at my eyes as I moved through to the living room. I hesitated for a moment at the door, then scooted to the side to peek out of the window at the front porch.

“I’ll go, then.”

“No, it’s OK. It’s just a couple of religious people,” I said, watching as a woman and a man slid a small pamphlet into the screen door before leaving.

“Bah. I usually tell them I’m a cannibal and they leave me alone.”

“I tried that once. I told them I was an anarchist, and they just visited me every week to try to save me,” I said, opening the door just enough to snatch up the religious newsletter, closing it quickly before slumping down on the couch next to the window. “So exactly how long will you and Ray be able to stay? The whole week that we planned, or will you guys want to go off on your own and make smoochy faces at each other?”