Crowded Solitude
By Deanie
May 2000

Disclaimer: Nick, Natalie, Janette and LaCroix don't belong to me. They belong to James Parriott, Barney Cohen, Sony/TriStar. I'm just borrowing them for a while…and they'll be returned when I'm done putting them through the emotional wringer. I'm not making any money off of this, so don't sue. No copyright infringement is intended.

The idea for this story hit me as I was sitting alone at the food court in the mall.
Thanks to my wonderful beta-readers - Heather-Anne, Valerie, and Renee.

***

People, people everywhere. If I had known the mall would be this crowded, I never would have come. But Amy's birthday was next week, and I was on a quest, searching for the perfect present for my only niece. Thankfully, I spotted an empty table in the food court and sat down to eat my long-delayed lunch. Unwrapping the sub I had bought, I took a large gulp of my diet cola, hoping the caffeine would kick in soon. I sighed. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until I sat down to eat. From my seat, I had a good view of the traffic passing through the food court. I idly people-watched as I munched my chicken sub.

A group of teenage girls giggled as they went by, stealing glances at a boy working at one of the fast food stands. A twentysomething couple, oblivious to the world around them, held hands as they strolled through the crowd. Two girls in matching sorority sweatshirts chattered animatedly as they hefted their shopping bags higher. A couple pushed a sleeping baby in a sturdy stroller. A teenager and her mother walked along, carrying a prom dress wrapped in plastic. Another group of teenage girls, this one drinking smoothies as they walked by. Suddenly, I realized something - very few people in the crowd were alone.

I stared at the laughing face of a blonde girl. The teens that roamed the mall in packs looked even younger than I had ever remembered being. Had I once been that young? Suddenly, I felt very old. I had a hard time remembering back that far. I was only thirty-two, yet I was a lifetime older than these children were. They wandered through the confines of the mall, giggling with their friends about the cute boy from English class and the latest movie hunk-of-the-month, untainted by the truths of real life. Standing on the edge of world where anything was possible.

And the mothers and daughters, wandering from store to store in search of the ideal prom dress that would make that one night the most special night of their lives. Searching for that perfect dress to knock the boys off their feet and make the magic of prom come alive. I never had that with my own mother; she had been gone long before I was old enough to fantasize about dates and dances.

There were so many couples, walking hand in hand. Teenage couples in matching high school jackets. I'd had dates in high school, but I had been too busy with schoolwork to have a real boyfriend. I had been too shy and serious for most of the boys to pay much attention to . . . and then I graduated from high school early.

But what seemed to bother me more wasn't all the young people, couples in the bloom of first love. It was the one elderly couple I spotted that troubled me. They moved slower than the bustling pace of the crowd around them but didn't seem to notice. Hands clasped, heads together, they looked like they had been together for sixty years and their love kept growing stronger every day.

What would it be like to have that kind of love? To know that someone loved you more than life itself? To spend your whole life with one special person, knowing him better than you had thought it was possible to know someone? To grow old in your true love's arms? The very thought brought tears to my eyes. Would I ever know a love like that? Not likely, considering the man I was in love with. Nick and I could never have that, not unless I found a cure. I tried not to think about Nick and the future -- at least, tried not to think of them in the same sentence. It was just too depressing. At first I had been so optimistic about being able to find a cure, but the more time that passes and the more I learn about his condition, the more skeptical I become. I would never stop trying, but I'd started to accept the idea of Nick and I growing old together wasn't very likely to happen.

I still wanted him, still wanted to be with him, even if he never became mortal. I loved Nick, all of him, and I would take him any way I could get him. If we were together the way we were now -- if I remained human while he remained a vampire - I would grow old while he stayed eternally young. Maybe eventually he'd grow tired of the wrinkled old woman who had once been his young, beautiful lover. He'd want to move on, to younger women and new relationships . . . leaving me alone. If he stayed with me until the end, then he'd be the one left alone, to carry on his life without the person he loved. I could become a vampire, as he was. But even when we thought the world was ending, he wouldn't bring me across, so that wasn't an option.

No, all this brooding was getting me nowhere. I was supposed to be figuring out what to get Amy for her birthday. But I couldn't help looking around the crowd.

A toddler squealed, wiggling his little body in the stroller as his mom pushed him by. Over by the jewelry store another mother was pushing a tiny sleeping baby. I looked away, but still, there were babies everywhere. A young couple stopped at the table next to mine, peering into a stroller at a chubby-cheeked infant with a tuft of blonde hair. The baby cocked her head, like she was really listening to what her father was saying, and then smiled.

I felt this sharp pain go through my heart. I never let myself think about it, but deep in my heart I knew I really wanted a child. I could imagine holding a soft little body in my arms, cuddling against the warmth, smelling the baby powder scent on my child's delicate skin. It wasn't politically correct to admit it, with me being the high-powered career woman and all, but I could admit the truth to myself -- I wanted a child. I wanted the family I never really had as a child. My parents were so busy with their careers that they didn't have much time to spend with Richie and me when we were little. Then they were gone - died in a car crash when I was 13. I always had this dream, this picture in my head of a happy family, sitting down to dinner, talking about their day. Not realistic in this day in age, was it? Must have been some kind of fantasy brought on by watching too many fifties sitcoms as a kid.

Suddenly, I realized I had finished my sandwich ten minutes before. I was just sitting, lost in thought . . . brooding, spacing out. "Now I'm even beginning to act like Nick," I muttered under my breath.

Picking up my purse, I tried to put my thoughts behind me. Brooding never solved my problems, and I still had a present to buy. Once again, I set off into the crowds.