I was puffing through my fifth cigarette since we’d left the store
while Percy unloaded the car. Somewhere between attempting to comfort
and maybe a little worried as he told me, “you can do this, Mary.
We bring the bags in, I’ll run out and pick up your cat, get some
pizza on the way back, you’ll get some time with Martin. Alright?”
My body nodded, though I doubt it looked genuine even as I tossed the
small bit I had left at my feet and crushed it under my boot. Shaking
hands throwing my own bags over my shoulder and taking up a few
lighter groceries Percy let me take in my one good hand while I let
him lead me inside and into the elevator. My fingers shaking the
whole time I pressed the floor button and pressed myself against the
back wall.
Each shake and rumble of the elevator feeling like a burner risking
boiling my emotions over while I asked, “what if he hates me?”
Percy let out a grunt, shaking his head for a moment he admitted,
“well, it’d suck, but probably be worse if the he’s secretly a
vampire.”
I blinked, looking over to the man unsure of what to say for several
seconds until finally sputtering out, “why would he be?”
“Why’d he hate you?” Percy replied with a shit-eating grin,
nearly cackling as he told me, “look, worst case scenario you’re
a stranger to him, and maybe he’ll be a bit weird about seeing you
in person finally, but he ain’t gonna hate you. Now, you waited
another nine or ten years? Yeah, teenager’s gonna resent that a lot
more, but he’s young enough that you got plenty of time to make up
for any upset feelings.”
Not exactly the best thing to say, it was something to at least try
holding onto even as the elevator opened and we walked down the hall.
Barely to the right apartment when the door opened and Gevaudan
stepped out with a bright smile.
A relatively short woman, with curly auburn hair much like my own
that came well past her shoulders. Thick circular glasses over a
freckled face, with a pair of blue jeans and a turtleneck sweater
loose on her body. A relatively sweet perfume that defied description
hanging on the air around her.
The woman almost giddy as she helped take a few of the, admittedly
already lighter of the batch, bags I had and called out, “Oh, Mary,
you’re looking wonderful! Christ, camera really doesn’t show off
how much you’ve changed.” Her eyes shifting to Percy with a
slightly raised brow as she added on, “and whose he? Didn’t know
you were bringing a guy along.”
I had to giggle a little, shaking my head as I stopped her thinking
what she was for too long, “he’s a friend, there’s a bit of um…
well, dangerous stuff going on, asked The Lady if she could make sure
we were safer here just in case and figured it’d be good to have
him around.”
Percy awkwardly raised his hand, adding on, “I can take the couch
or floor or whatever, got an air mattress just in case. It’s a real
pleasure to meet you though, Mary’s told me a lot about you, miss
Rivierre, you seem like a right lovely woman. You just let me know if
you need anything all, alright, ma’am?”
Gevaudan nodded, looking ready to laugh in the man’s even as she
declared, “just call me Gevaudan, or some my friends call me Gee.”
turning to lead us inside as she muttered, “When did I get old
enough for that down here?”
Not sure what I was fully expecting, the apartment was… well, not
tiny, but smaller than I
would have suspected even being
warned about the size. A
living room with a thin counter separating a sitting area from the
kitchenette; just enough room otherwise for a three person couch,
coffee table, and stand for an old flat screen that had to have been
the nicest thing in the room. A glass door leading out onto a small
balcony with two stained and dirty looking lawn chairs still out
there, and two doors on
either side the room. Faint
scents of people on the air covered up by a few candles Gevaudan had
put up around the area.
Our groceries sat on the counter while Percy went about rubbing dust
off the counter oven with a little disgust and made sure the fridge
was working. I looking around like a lost puppy, a pit growing in my
chest until Gevaudan told me, “Marty didn’t sleep well last
night, was up all night excited to see you. He fell asleep once we
were on the plane for a bit, let him sleep in my old room when we got
there. Want me to wake him?”
I was about to say yes before I realized what that meant, lips
smacking tight before I could and I hesitantly told her, “let him
sleep, gives me a minute to finish getting myself together. I um…
one second, his present, there a place we can-”
“Closet in your room,” Gevaudan offered, smiling a little as she
pointed to one of the rooms, “I’m staying in my old room, figured
you could have Misha and Fox’s old one. More than likely Marty
isn’t gonna mind sleeping on the couch, one of the few nice things
they ever bought themselves. Some room for him to squeeze in with me
if he gets scared though, and definitely plenty to with you if he
wants.”
I nodded, having to smile a little at the thought even as I felt
streaks of tears down my cheeks. Percy reaching out to pat the top of
my head a couple times while he said, “sweatpants are in here too,
want me to help drop everything off or you got it?”
“I’ll be fine, having trouble with a hand I’m not useless,” I
said, taking the bag from him and going to the door Gevaudan pointed
to. Struggling to open it with the bag in my hand, sitting the bag
down to open it, and knocking the bag over with the corner of the
door. My attempt to bend down and pick it up met by my clothes bag
swinging off my shoulder and smacking into my face, sending my side
knocking into the door knob. A brief hiss of pain escaping me as I
picked up the grocery bag and swung my clothes back on my shoulder,
Percy looking like he was about to something sassy as I held in my
own cackle to tell him, “fuck you, I remember the pool party.”
Percy gave a nod of acknowledgment, Gevaudan rubbing her eyes even as
I tossed my bags on the bed and closed the door behind me. Ready to
walk into the bedroom and then realizing there wasn’t really room
to walk farther in.
What I imagine had to be the smaller of the two bedrooms, just doing
the math of two rooms on this side of the apartment, it was hardly
big enough for all that’d been stuffed into it. A king sized bed
stuffed in the center, with a few feet of space on all sides against
the walls. Enough to barely open a closet door on one side, a
dresser on one wall, a short bookshelf with some old softcover
novels, and a desk one one would need to be sitting on the edge of
the bed to work at. The sort of micromanaged efficiency to layout
that looked baffling, though I had to imagine had been worked out as
being the best way to have everything organized.
The smell of dust strongest in here, not just from a lack of candles,
but a complete neglect of its existence.
My confusion taking over for only a short time before I started
trying to navigate the room, managing to get to the closet and slip
Marty’s present onto a top shelf. A few old dresses and button
downs hanging on old plastic hangers ready to snap which I took a
moment to check out, scarcely stored enough to look wrong in the
closet. The tops obviously Misha’s, not that I knew why he left
some his clothes behind, dresses probably Fox’s even if that made
me even more confused at their abandonment.
All the same, perfect for me as I tugged my clothes bag over and
struggled a moment to unzip it. My one shirt I thought would do with
being hung up pulled out, a spare hanger taken from the closet, and-
snap.
The plastic breaking before I’d barely managed to awkwardly slide
it in, my eye closing a long moment before tossing the hanger on the
ground and resisting the urge to slam the door shut.
I barely hung my clothes up anyways, who cared.
To my surprise, the dresser felt just as half-abandoned as the
closet, each drawer looking like most of the items had been taken out
and a few random items abandoned. A couple old band t-shirts, some
blue jeans faded and torn in with age and some skinny jeans that were
better cared for, a couple skirts, and a few nicer women’s tops.
My slow effort to try and keep clothes folded and in place while
transferring them with one hand taking up enough time for me to
occasionally take a few seconds between items and look around the
rest of the room.
There were at least two dozen spiral bound notebooks on the desk, one
set aside by itself looking like finances and all the others
containing pages and pages of sketches and drawings in pencil. A
nicer looking sketchbook beside them, under a tin of colored pencils
that were all reduced to stubs, with its pages filled with various
larger color pieces. Even more notebooks on the floor around the desk
alongside plenty of other papers, though I barely needed to look
there to tell it was old school work. The only thing unrelated to
drawing or school a thin mass market paperback with a thick layer of
dust on it and the bookmark left halfway through.
My last stop in the room the bookshelf on some unending curiosity,
where it was relatively easy to tell the divide on which shelves
belong to who. All the books old and worn, peeling spines or
thoroughly broken in, several the price tags still saying how few
dollars or even cents they cost out of their bargain bin or shelf.
The top two shelves Misha’s, I recognized the long line of RA
Salvatore and Ed Greenwood from some books he gave me; and that was
if the art guides and a proudly displayed HR Giger art book wasn’t
enough. The only small surprise there a couple guides to parenting
and both on being an adoptive parent and step dad, all six books ripe
with sticky notes lining the top.
The bottom shelves I presumed to be Fox’s, a nice sized collection
of VC Andrews and Anne Rice for her, with a few gaps that looked like
a couple select series being taken, alongside some similar books on
being a parent, with more than a couple the books overlapping with
Misha above. A few smaller objects decorating the shelf in the way of
some cross stitching and a flute in a case that looked like it’d
been gathering dust longer than anything there.
My curiosity only sated a little as I did my best to knock the dust
off the sheets with one hand and awkwardly stripped myself of my
pants one handed. Only as I was pulling on one of my skirts and
buttoning it thinking I could have asked for this instead of those
jeans until I was ready.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
A final look around the room before stepping out, Percy’s flannel
chucked at the man’s face before he could barely turn to look my
way while I asked, “there a washer? Know it’s a big ask, but the
sheets are a bit dusty.”
Gevaudan chuckled at that a little, nodding towards one the two
remaining doors to tell me, “in the bathroom on the left; there’s
a really nice washer dryer combo. Door on the right is the closet for
random bits and bobs, couple board games. The Lady gave us the
smallest apartment that could fit us comfortably, but she wanted to
make sure Misha could do his own laundry. I was about to start the
stuff from my bed when I heard the elevator coming, I can do yours
after if you want.”
As often as I got blood on my clothes I couldn’t really blame The
Lady for making sure laundry was covered at least, and I had to smile
a little as I admitted, “wouldn’t mind it, especially if you
don’t mind helping me with the sheets. Got my hand shot to Hell,
can’t really use it all that much right now. Healing a bit slower
than I would have thought, but… well, not a science.”
Gevaudan chuckled at that, watching Percy intently as he slid his
shirt back on and made a short jog to the closet. The man peeking
inside with a bright smile on his face before announcing, “they got
Risk, Mary, you’re not escaping it this week!”
“Wolf gods, not Risk,” I sighed through my tired chuckles, the
woman looking between us confused while I reminded Percy, “you
forget why my dad threw out his set? Only reason he hasn’t brought
up us breaking his coffee table is me just coming back from the dead.
You want to risk getting thrown again while I’m a werewolf?”
Percy shrugged, cocky smile not breaking as he countered, “wrestled
you down before since you turned, you don’t know how to fight.”
“Oh, I let you fucking get that one on me so I didn’t hurt you.
Just like I let you get the Americas,” I countered cackling, any
thought I had next broken by the sound of a door opening. My heart
dropping to my stomach, unable to move, turn around, a cold chill
running through me as I felt his scent overcome the candles.
Almost all the natural smells he carried, it was a confusing mixture
of Hunter and I with something else to it. Something all his own, but
too familiar to not make it feel like Hunter should have been there
too. Too familiar for me to not feel some small tears coming to my
eye as I wondered just what I was going to say.
My body refusing to move even as he asked, “people here, aunty?”
Gevaudan nodded, taking the initiative as she gently grabbed me and
spun me to face my boy. Her voice a soft as she announced, “yes,
they are, mommy just got here.”
He was so tall, or… I didn’t even know how tall a four year old
was supposed to be, but all I could see looking at him was how much
he wasn’t the baby in my arms years ago. Not the small thing I’d
cried holding wondering if I’d accidentally hurt if him I moved too
suddenly, not a child that hardly left my chest for six months, not
the baby I’d given up once I feared for my life in the Purists.
Marty looked like something between his father and mine. His hair the
same shade of black as my dad, not my auburn or Hunter’s brown, the
shape of his eyes undeniably like mine. His jaw though, even covered
in that youthful layer of fat, the sharper look Hunter had compared
to my family’s broader look and his eyes the same hazel as Hunter.
He was wearing a pair of pajama pants with dinosaur prints across
them and an over sized black shirt with a plush wolf the size of him
held in his arms. Not wearing the glasses I’d seen him in a hundred
times, though he’d just woken up, probably was still tired, and…
A choking noise escaped my throattears streaming down my cheek, and I
resisted the urge to run to him. Instead a slow walk, the kid looking
up at me wide-eyed a moment until I was a few feet away and I looked
down to him and weakly croaked out with arms held out, “hey, Marty,
good to see you finally.”
Martin looked up at me wide-eyed, his face turning nervous and then
scared in a half second before he ran past me to hug Gevaudan.
Looking back at me like I’d chase after while the woman crouched
down and whispered with him for a moment and I resisted the urge to
curl into sobbing mess.
Still stood there confused on what happened until Percy came up
beside me and whispered, “you’re twice his size and a stranger,
take it a little easier.”
My mind still racing with a few hundred emotions while Percy walked
up instead, crouching on one knee a few feet away from the two as he
asked, “Nice to meet you, Marty, the name’s Percy. I’m a friend
of your moms.” Martin barely reacting, though barely reacting
better than badly as Percy asked, “how do you feel about pizza?
Personally, I love it, but how about you?”
Martin looked up at Percy scared still though, after a moment, looked
back at Gevaudan who gently encouraged him with a nod and smile. The
kid smiling a little himself as he admitted, “I like pepperoni.”
“Pepperoni, see that’s a classic right there,” Percy agreed
with a small chuckle, nodding towards me to add on, “you mom and I
usually prefer the meat lovers, but you know what I like to do with
either one? Just get some hot honey and top it off, you think you’d
like that?”
Martin frowned, tilting his head a moment to ask, “honey on pizza?”
“Hot honey, it’s a little spicy,” Percy chuckled, giving an
almost silent clap before gesturing at Gevaudan, “know you’re
from Canada, probably haven’t been introducing your boy to the
glory of spicy food, but I think we can see about fixing that. I
grabbed a little hot honey while we were out shopping so you can try
that. I like it on my salads and pizza, figured it’d get some use.
So, what do you think? Pizza tonight sound good?”
Marty looked excited about that, nodding as he moved away from his
aunt a little to ask, “and bread sticks, please?”
“And bread sticks, please. I see I have met my match in the
presence of a master negotiator,” Percy said up to Gevaudan with
his broad smile, “alright, and bread sticks. Now, how do you like
cats?”
Marty was practically bouncing at that point, smile from ear to ear
as he looked around and asked, “there’s a cat?”
“Well, I’m about to head out and get some pizza and a cat, long
as you think you can behave.” my boy nodded as hard as he could,
jumping on his heels and slapping Percy’s hand hard as he could
when offered. Percy rising to his feet as he nodded my way and
announced, “alright then, Marty! Think you can hold down the fort
until I get back? We got a couple good movies to watch, and I saw we
had some good looking board games in the closet. You want when I get
back we’ll play teams, I can show you how to make your mom cry over
Risk.”
Martin nodded, watching on as Percy left the apartment with a thumbs
up that the kid returned. My brain still trying to figure out what
he’d just done to have that go so well while I slowly walked over
to sit on the couch, the sound of the elevator running lightly
echoing even into the apartment. Looking back at Gevaudan and Martin
while I hesitantly asked, “you guys want to watch anything?”
Gevaudan smiled a little, nodding to the remote to tell me, “Misha
had the place set up with WiFi a couple years back, said he crashed
here when he didn’t feel like driving home. Apparently The Lady
kept it all hooked up in case she needed the safe-house, we’re all
good there, I already logged in some of our stuff.”
I nodded, fumbling with the remote a little bit while I went about
getting the TV on and navigating the menus. Martin slowly coming up
and sitting on the opposite side of the couch from me with his wolf
held tight in his arms while I tried finding something to watch.
After a bit asking, “can you help me Gevaudan? Not sure what to um…
you know.”
The woman chuckled, walking over and taking the remote while she went
through a few options. Martin and I sitting in an awkward silence
until I finally told him, “that’s a cool looking wolf.”
Martin perked up a little at that, still looking down a bit nervously
while he admitted, “uncle Misha gave me her. I like her a lot.”
I smiled a bit more at that, honestly a little glad he was having
some sort of relationship with his uncle even with the man so far
away. I knew he apparently traveled a week or so every few years, if
he was allowed, but he didn’t really strike me as the type to go
out of his way for traveling.
And I was getting a small in with talking to him, nodding a little as
I asked him, “her? Oh, what’s her name, don’t think you’ve
shown her off when we called.”
The feeling I was about to regret my questioning coming over me as I
saw Gevaudan holding in her laugh, eye closed for a few second while
Martin told me, “Misha said her name’s Bloodhound. It’s on her
tag. I think it’s kinda stupid, she’s a wolf. It’s a cool name
though.”
I closed my eye, a part of me still trying to work out whether that
meant he liked the name or not while also realizing what Misha had
done. My eye opening enough to see Martin had moved closer to show
off the tag, a badly sewn dog bone on a badly sewn collar around the
wolf’s neck, with bloodhound roughly embroidered in cursive
on the small space. The added realization of the effort he’d gone
through there deserving as much appreciation as it made me
contemplate flying out to LA to kill him.
Gevaudan’s barely contained giggles turning into a borderline sob
of laughter with tears running down her cheeks as I looked up to her
with my best attempt at at least one sad puppy eye to make her feel
bad for it. The woman reaching out to pat my head while she told me,
“here, Marty loves this show, I’m sure he’d love to introduce
you.”
Martin perked up with a broad smile, half-jumping in place while he
nodded and started, “it’s so good! Did you watch this as a kid,
mommy?” the fact it was an extremely modern show lost on him. My
son launching into a quick breakdown of the characters names and what
they do, what they’re in charge of, all else he could think of.
None of it anything completely new, I’d heard him talk about it a
few times, but at the same time…
Every word feeling new, fresh, easier to hang onto than any other
time I’d talked to him as I settled back in the couch and just
watched him talk. His words growing quicker and quicker, more and
more excited, until finally he decided it was time to focus on the
show. Making sure I was paying attention and laughing along while
Gevaudan went about starting some cleaning.
The episodes over in what felt like no time, the sound of the
elevator and Percy returning in what felt like just a few short
minutes. My mind almost a blur as Gevaudan let Percy in with Pizza in
his hands and Lord on his shoulder, Marty getting up to run to them
while I slowly got my feet and followed them.
Percy working on setting out the boxes while letting Martin try a
little bit of the hot honey on a piece of pepperoni from the box.
Gevaudan getting paper plates from the cabinet and grabbing a couple
of the 2 liters we’d gotten from the fridge, while Lord moved up to
stand beside me.
Lord, near round as he was long with his fat and black and white
fluff, tilting his head a moment as he asked, what’s the word,
bird?
“Just hanging out with Marty,” I admitted with a shrug, taking a
piece of meat from off the meat lovers and holding it for Lord. The
cat leaning up to take it from me while I explained, “we’re
watching a show about dog first responders. I’m… I’m working on
trying to fu- um, frick things up.”
“Look, Mary,” Lord started, sitting his chunk of meat aside and
standing tall to look up at me, “there’s something mother used to
say-”
“Look, I know it’s probably going to be helpful advice, a good
quote, maybe a story that feels connected, but I know how it goes.
You tell it, I respond positively, you tell me where it’s from,”
I said, the cat lowering their head in defeat as I told him, “I
like Mean Girls and Heathers, but you can’t convince me to read
Homestuck. I asked Sigyn about it the last time you were trying to
convince me, and she warned me about this.”
And Lord fell to his side, letting out a mournful yowl as he
complained, “but Mother didn’t talk about it enough for me to
understand it! I must learn why she was so heartbroken for the
mayor!”
“I will ask Sigyn to explain it to you, but I’m not reading it,”
I countered, looking up to see Percy and Gevaudan both looking at me
ready to cackle as I tried to remind them, “I can talk to animals,
I-”
“Is that genetic?” Gevaudan asked, with a small nod to Marty,
thankfully not paying too much attention.
I nodded, glancing my son’s way before leaning in to whisper, “you
still got four or five years until the low end of when you gotta
worry, Hunter turned at thirteen, I turned at fifteen. All wolf a few
generations on Hunter’s side, I just know my mom is, so little
better than fifty percent chance.”
Gevaudan rolled her eyes and smiled, leaning in as she countered,
“know that much grew up similar, but wondering if there’s a
chance I’ll need to get used to the out of context conversations if
he does.”
And I nodded, smiling a little as I admitted, “my mom did too
apparently, so yeah.”