Understatement of the fucking year, she thought.

Forty

He sat on the edge of the bed and shook Jean gently by the shoulder. Groaning, she rolled over. She squinted up at him. "Huh?

Wha's-"

"You need to get up," Larry said.

Suddenly she looked alarmed and wide awake. "What's wrong?"

"It's not a fire or anything. Nobody's hurt. We just need to talk."

"Oh, my God. What? Tell me!"

"Lane's waiting in the kitchen."

"Is she all right?"

"She's fine. This is about me. I'll explain everything in a few minutes."

Jean sat up. She had a strange look in her eyes. A look of pain and fear. She caught her lower lip between her teeth.

"Don't get all upset," Larry said.

"Are you leaving us?"

"No, no. God, no." A strap of her nightgown had slipped off, baring her shoulder and right breast. Larry curled his hand over the breast and kissed her mouth.

Pulling her head back, she stared into his eyes. "You're having an affair?"

"No. I love you, Jean." He lifted the strap onto her shoulder and kissed her again. Her arms went around him. She hugged him fiercely.

"Come on now. Lane's waiting." She released him.

Larry stood up. He waited while she climbed out of bed and put on her bathrobe. Then he took her hand and led her from the room. As he entered the kitchen he smelled the comfortable aroma of coffee.

"It'll be ready in a couple of minutes," Lane said. She exchanged a rather sick-looking smile with Jean.

"Do you know what this is all about?" Jean asked.

"Not really."

They both faced Larry. "Go ahead and sit down," he said.

They sat at the table. Larry stood behind his chair and gripped its back. To Jean he said, "Do you remember that body we found?"

"What about it?"

He looked at Lane. "When your mother and I were out exploring in the desert with Pete and Barbara, we found a body in an abandoned hotel in Sagebrush Flat. That's a ghost town about fifty-"

"That's where you found her?"

"Yeah."

Jean frowned. "I thought we agreed not to tell Lane..."

"I didn't tell her." He felt a grimace twisting his face. Here goes, he thought. He took a deep breath. "Lane saw it. Tonight. It's up in our garage attic."

Jean gaped at him. The color drained from her face. In a low voice she said, "You're kidding."

"Pete and I went out and brought it back with us. While you two were in Los Angeles."

"You're kidding," she said again.

"He isn't," Lane told her.

Larry turned away from the table. Coffee had stopped streaming into the pot. He opened a cupboard. "We're doing a book about it. I'm doing the book."

"A book," Jean muttered.

"A vampire book," he said, taking down three mugs. "Nonfiction."

He started to fill the mugs. His hand shook, slopping coffee onto the counter.

"You're telling me... you and Pete took that hideous thing out from under the stairs and brought it home with you, and it's out in our garage?"

"That's right. I'm writing a book about it."

"A vampire book," Lane murmured. She sounded as if she were talking to herself.

Larry brought the mugs to them. Lane seemed to be staring at the center of the table. Jean looked up at him as he set the mug in front of her. "You're out of your mind," she said.

"I know." He sat down. "I knew you'd be upset..."

"Upset? Me? Why would I be upset? My husband brings a goddamn stiff home and hides it in our garage."

"Boy, Dad."

"I'm sorry. I know it was a stupid thing to do. But Pete and I figured-"

"Pete." Jean's eyes narrowed. "I'll just bet it was his idea."

"Well, it was. But I went along with it. We're talking about a major book. It could make us rich."

"So would robbing a bank," Jean said. She put her hands on the table. She pushed her chair back. She got up and walked to the phone.

"Does Barbara know about this?"

"No. What're you doing?" Larry asked.

She didn't answer. She jabbed buttons on the handset.

"Oh, boy," Lane muttered.

Larry groaned. He wished he hadn't mentioned Pete. But it was Pete's idea.

Now we'll have two wives going apeshit.

It would be nice, though, to have Pete here for some moral support.

"This is Jean." Her voice sounded calm. "I'd like to speak to Barbara... No, I'm not kidding... Yes indeed, 'uh-oh'... Hi, Barbara, Jean... Yes, I'd say so. Something is quite wrong. I'd like you and Pete to come over here right away... Let's just say our dear husbands pulled a certain stunt. Bring something sharp. We may want to kill them."

At least she hasn't lost her sense of humor, Larry thought.

Jean hung up. "They'll be right over," she said.

"Wonderful."

She sat down, took a sip of coffee, put down the mug, scowled at Larry and said, "What were you doing out there with it tonight?"

The question made his heart lurch. He felt heat rush to his face.

"Nothing."

"What do you mean, nothing? You were out there with it, weren't you?" She faced Lane. "Wasn't he?"

"He walked in his sleep," Lane said. "He didn't know what he was doing."

"What was he doing?"

Lane looked at him. She pressed her lips together.

"Go ahead and tell," he said. "Then we'll both know."

"Dad was talking to... the body. I guess he was dreaming or something, and they were carrying on a conversation." She turned her eyes to Larry. "I think she was trying to talk you into pulling out the stake."

"Oh-for-godsake," Jean gasped.

Lane's head jerked toward her mother. "He didn't do it," she said very fast. "I mean, I didn't realize that thing was supposed to be a vampire, but... I woke him up before he could take the stake out."

"And what were you doing out there, young lady?"

"I was worried about him. I didn't think Dad should have to spend the whole night on the couch just because he had a couple of drinks too many." She gave Jean a frown. "So after I finished my bath, I went to wake him up so he could go to bed, and he wasn't there. He was on his way to the garage. So I followed him. I was afraid he'd get hurt. You could tell something was wrong. He was walking in his sleep. He didn't know what the hell was going on."

"You followed your father into the attic and saw him talking to a corpse." She looked at Larry. "I hope you're proud of yourself."

"I couldn't help it, Jean. I was asleep."

"He really was, Mom. You should've heard him scream when I woke him up."

The doorbell rang. Without saying a word, Jean got up from the table. She stepped closer to Lane. Shaking her head, she slid a hand gently down the girl's hair. Then she hurried from the kitchen.

"I'm really sorry," Larry said.

"That's okay. Mom's really pissed, isn't she?"

"I'm afraid so. It's a big shock. For both of you."

"I'm just glad you didn't take that stake out." "So am I. I was going to do it, huh?"

"Yeah. You had your hand on it when I woke you up."

"Jesus."

"You don't really think it would've..." She shook her head.

"Come back to life? I don't know. Probably not. But I'm still glad you stopped me." He managed a smile. "And I also appreciate the way you stuck up for me."

"That's all right."

"You're a good kid, no matter what everyone says."

She laughed softly and winced. Her eyes widened as if she were surprised by a sudden pain. Color drained from her face.

"What's wrong?"

She gave him a very strange look. For a moment Larry thought she was on the verge of telling him something terrible. But she said, "Nothing. I'm just not feeling very swift. Cramps. You know."

"Are you sure that's all?"

"Isn't it enough?"

"You could go to bed. You don't have to stick around for the fireworks."

"I wouldn't miss this."

Pete was first to enter the kitchen. He wore a blue bathrobe over white pajamas, and had mocassins on his feet. His nose was bandaged.

From the look on his face, he might've been a fourth grader caught red- handed putting a tack on his teacher's chair. Meeting Larry's gaze, he mouthed "What's happened?" but didn't utter a sound.

Larry felt his lip curl up. He shook his head.