North American Vampire Council & Past Calling (Hypernaturals 12 & 13)

Helen Found You

Morgan showed me her computer, displaying a news article. "Did you see the society page today?"

I am sitting at my desk in our home office, next to hers. "They still have society pages?" I asked.

"I suppose. I did not know that either until I went and looked for this. I became so tired of being in the paper in Houston, I admit I have not looked for such a thing for a while. The Cabal delighted not only in publishing my solved cases but putting in speculation about whether the so-called 'famous single detective' was going to be getting serious with 'Mr. Right'. It was always a picture of me on a date with some white guy. Never when I was was out with a person of color. I had to try to not let that channel me away from dating good people merely because they were light-skinned."

"That sounds truly awful. Not to mention stressful for whoever your date was."

"On several occasions, it was Mike. He said it amused him. I am not certain that it did. It amused me from the point of view that the Cabal was more interested in his skin color than his occupation as a bartender in a sexually oriented business. Not that I cared about either, but some did not understand my defense of the industry, what with being a woman and all. The Cabal appeared to prefer skin color to occupation, or more likely were customers of those in the trade."

"These people were the worst. Hands down." I opined.

"Agreed. Back to this: This is an article in the local paper covering the big charity ball from last weekend. Big event. Many pictures of important people. Items such as the Mayor and his husband attending the event. Or here, the woman that owns the largest female-owned business in the city with two dates, and a blurb wondering if they are dates, bodyguards, or both. That kind of thing."

"Society pages have not improved since you used to appear in them, you are saying. Except that this is Austin and so it is less judgemental about same-sex marriages, and possible poly relationships."

"They have not improved significantly. The verbiage is indirectly catty to the point of sounding envious about the idea that this woman has two men to take to bed after the event. I hope she did, and that there were five more on standby. Not the reason I brought this up. This article is about society, and so when someone who is not one of the beautiful people appears, they wonder who they are. Some mystery couple stole the evening, out-dancing everyone at the ball, not to mention being in the most fabulous clothing."

Morgan tapped the screen which made it zoom in. "Look at the picture."

The photo is of Helen and I dancing. She is extended away from me, holding hands, the other arm outstretched. Her fingers flipped up in a sort of flourish. It is a still picture, but such a good shot that it is easy to infer the grace of Helen's body that led to it.

Because of the angle of the shot, my face is in side-view, but Helen's is full face and slightly right of the center frame. The geometry and composition make sense. I am not the important one in that picture or that dance. I am not Danny Kaye to her Vera-Ellen. I am a counterbalance to Helen, who is the blonde beauty of many legends, dressed to match the part of a goddess of dance, right down to her shoes.

I reached across the desk to the screen and further zoomed in.

"Wow. I need the original of this. Helen looks so happy. The joy radiating from her every line." I said sort of abstractly as I looked at her. The perfect beauty, the perfect pose. The hair swung out. Excellent shot. I hope this is in high resolution.

Morgan waited for me to absorb the image, knowing it affected me. "When we get this from the paper photo archive, we need to put this with the pictures Bob did of all of us. When was the last time you saw that expression on Helen's face?" she asked.