Chapter 40
“You’re a sabor, not a vampyre. You can.”
“Okay, then. Sounds like a plan. Will we be meeting Mrs. Wilder there, or—”
“Barb’s not…she won’t be going with us.”
“Oh.” We weren’t what you’d call super religious—in fact we weren’t religious at all—but we always went to church for Christmas and Easter.
“She’ll be visiting her family, but she promised to come over the day after. This will be ideal. She’s been looking forward to meeting you.”
“Me, too.” What else could I say?
“Listen, son. I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later in the week.”
“Okay. Take care of yourself, Dad.”
“You, too, Ty.”
We hung up, and I sat back and stared out the window at the trees with their bare branches. I had plenty of time to shop, but I didn’t feel like playing Halo 3 or watching television.
Maybe I’d drive over to the mall today. I could pick up the gift for Mrs. Wilder, maybe have a pretzel and a Coke at Auntie Anne’s, and then go looking for a Christmas tree.