The morning of the luncheon, Edward called Henry early in the morning. Henry was lying in bed, daydreaming about life as a human being. The phone let a shrill ringing fill the room; Henry picked it up.

"Get ready. I need you to come pick me up soon or else we'll be late to the picnic in East Hampton."

Henry moaned a soft reply, "It's going to be hot, so wear thin clothing, but make sure to cover every square inch of your body. I have a sun hat that will do a fine job at blocking the sun from your face." Henry smacked his lips, "Okay then, I'll come by as soon as I can." The phone clattered to the receiver.

He reached for his sunscreen that he used once a long time ago, a bag with his washcloth, and a thin parasol. Henry put on a thin button shirt with beige flowing trousers and a smart belt to cinch his waist. He effortlessly flipped his blue and off-colored white porkpie hat from the forties to land perfectly on his head.

"Are you all covered? You don't feel any heat from the sun burning, do you?" Henry asked, fixing Edward's tie and thin jacket.

"I think I'm fine." He tilted his head with his big sunglasses. "I look silly, don't I?"

"No. Not at all." Henry nodded his head. He felt more and more what Veronica had felt when she was his familiar. Now he realized how difficult it was to expect her to not love him: a deep care and understanding for someone is exactly what love is.

Edward checked his watch. "Good, I think we should get going if we're to make it across Long Island." He avoided himself in the mirror, pushing through the door. "Ah." He paused, shifting away, "I think you missed a spot." Edward reached and pulled his gloves up.

"I apologize." Henry grimaced.

Edward took his hand down, "No worries," He mumbled.

Henry held his arms out with means of catching Edward if he fell from any intense pain, leading him to the car parked outside the apartment. The drive was long but comforting, and as Henry drove in his old Lincoln Versailles, Edward sat with the white parasol over his head, blocking his face.

Edward stiffened, "They're going to know something is wrong. With this thing, and the way I'm dressed, I'll stick out like a sore thumb."

Henry looked at Edward through the rearview mirror. Deep green trees and orange-brown grass flew by in the windows. "No one notices much about other people anyway. They're too focused on themselves most of the time. How do you think I haven't been staked yet?"

"Hmm." Edward pondered, "I guess you're right." He lit a cigarette and let a puff through his mouth. He breathed, "When they're introducing themselves, act like you're some sort of husband of mine or at least a long-time boyfriend."

Edward looked off into the distant trees, adjusting his sunglasses. "We've only known each other technically for three weeks, Edward." The smoke from his cigarette filled the car, hazy, and it stung Henry's eyes. "Someone's bound to realize or know a coworker from work." He warned, having a sarcastic and frustrated tone.

Edward turned his head at his name. "My name is Earl!" He belted, "Damn, can't you get it right? No, we haven't." He took another drag. "We've been with each other in spirit for over a century."

He tried to calm the situation down by easing up, but Henry was agitated with the stinging sense of an anger that hung over him, making him tense his shoulders uncomfortably. Henry's nose twitched as he cranked the window down; aggressive.

"Veronica told me about you looking for me." He spat at the smoke, trying to blow it out the window.

"Oh, did she?" Edward puffed his cigarette and spat out his words in mockery.

Henry's eyes grew dim. "Yes, she did. More so than what you're letting on!" He gritted his teeth, speaking through them tensely.

"Did I do something to anger you?" Edward said forcefully.

"I'd rather you didn't smoke in my car!"

Henry's voice suddenly risen to a tense and abrupt terse remark. He refused to let Edward know of his real reason, for he didn't even have a reason himself to pinpoint for his anger.

Edward's eyebrows raised, frustrated. He flicked the cigarette out the window. "I didn't know we were still tied to materialistic things all things considered that you're slowly earning back your soul." He seemed to calm as he let go of his butt.

"Who told you about that?" Henry turned to look at Edward briefly. He stiffened his grip on the wheel, crunching it which let out a creaking sound.

Edward shrugged, only supposing. "Sorry, this is all that I've learned back in 1790 when Lucy passed...I—now—I don't think she really died of that disease—well—I mean she did—she gave it to me and then I died—but. . .it wasn't no fluke." Edward trailed on, thinking out loud. His voice diminished to a small mouse.

Henry waited for Edward to say that Veronica had told him what he did to Lucy—getting her sick on love potions and real diseases—not that love isn't a real disease—it was a deadly one. No, Henry waited for Veronica to finally tell him and ruin everything that he had going with Edward. This was the only time he had ever been happy. But did she know? Surely, she must know what he did to Lucy.

"Are you supposing someone had to do something with the matter?" Henry's voice turned to a growl.

"Woah, geez, I didn't mean to indict anyone with anything, I'm just supposing that there's a whole conspiracy behind the whole. . ." He paused for dramatic effect, "History of the world or something. . ." Edward adjusted his umbrella uncomfortably. "Why don't you drive faster so we can get there sooner?"

"Yes, sir." Henry sighed. Whether Edward knew or not, it appeared Henry was still in the clear. He didn't bother Edward to expand on his conspiracy ideas. He thought best than to pry Edward and have him remember more of what happened. If he remembered being attacked, then he'd soon remember the rest.

It was all so worrisome.

At the event, Henry drove up the gravel pathway, past the gates and lush gardens to the front marble steps. He had only seen such a grand place back when he was rich beyond a man's wildest dreams.

At the foot of the long, marble steps, Henry helped Edward to his feet. There were other cars parked along the turnaround, centering a lapping fountain; water easily bubbled from the spout and gurgled. Daffodils and lilies danced with the faint summer wind next to the spring, twitching their leaves with innocent gaiety.

"Why hello there!" A young man in a fit look—a thin sweater tied around his neck and loose fitted trousers; his shirt thin and breathable—skipped down the stairs with ease as his steps mellifluously sounded against nature.

Edward and Henry looked up simultaneously.

"Dan! Oh, so good to see you." Edward fidgeted with his brown leather gloves. "This here is Henry."

Henry and Dan shook hands. "Nice to meet you." Dan smiled at Edward. "I just love your style for today. The hat, the coat, the umbrella—it's all so fancy!"

"Oh, why thank you," Edward mumbled embarrassed. He turned to Henry who shrugged his shoulders.

"Come—we have the ballroom to ourselves here. It's just up these steps." Dan quickly jumped up the steps showing the way.

Henry freed one arm and placed it gently at the small of Edward's back, guiding him up the stairs. The ballroom was very small with several round wooden tables that closely sat by each other. French doors on one side led to the gardens. A breeze that filtered through the open windows, adding volume to the men's and women's clothing and aura at the tables.

Chapter 20

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