I nodded. He had Makayla in a rocker, and she was babbling and smiling at us. By that point, she had grown into a very healthy 8-month-old while I was going on three months pregnant. I was excited to imagine Makayla becoming friends with my child, whoever it would be. They'd be cousins, but cousins can be friends, right?
Tommy said to me, "Artemis talked to me the other day. She said she hasn't seen Jack."
I nodded silently. "Freddy's heard nothing from anyone, so they must've hightailed it out of here."
Makayla made a loud cooing sound and reached out to me. I leaned towards her, and it was there that I saw she was reaching for my belly. I was growing more distended by the day, and it wouldn't be much longer before I had a real baby bump.
Makayla looked back at me, and I saw her beautiful sapphire-like eyes.
"How's she been growing?" I asked Tommy. "Nothing gone wrong with her health?"
"She got a little cold a few months ago, but besides that, she's as healthy as an apple."
"Very good." I tickled her head, running my finger through her hair, and she greatly enjoyed the sensation and tried reaching out towards and biting my hand like a kitten. "I hope my baby's as cute as yours!"
January became February. By then, I was almost waddling. My belly was huge! I was so large that I was taken aback because I didn't know it would feel like this. I felt the baby kick sometimes, but beyond that, the sensation of there being a tiny person inside me was real alien. But it was a very wonderful kind of alien experience because I was bringing another life into this world, and it was my duty to raise this life to make it a wonderful adult. Someone who would also eventually bring a life into the world. It was the circle of life.
By that point, we had started repurposing several rooms in the mansion to be used as a baby's room, a playroom, and even a dedicated changing room. There were so many damn rooms in that mansion that it was like a maze!
One thing I didn't like was that all these rooms were on the second floor.
Tommy was with me on February 20th, carrying Makayla with him as she showed me how to walk. It was little more than woddles and a lot of plopping falls, but she was moving like an Olympic runner.
As cute as it was, Tommy said to me, "You'd better be careful about this." He pointed right at the railings of the second floor. "Are those narrow enough?"
He was making me so worried! "Agh! Maybe we should keep her on the first floor."
"Then you'd better make sure to lock the doors to the kitchen and utility rooms. I'm telling you all this because I..." he looked to Neil, and they both kissed. "We learned that little little little kids, the really tiny ones, are always trying to kill themselves."
Neil blew out his cheeks. "Yeah, you're definitely gonna wanna watch out for this. I can tell that Makayla's a Cat because she's always climbing over stuff, and we have to watch out for her. She's barely even a cat. She's more like a monkey." Then he stooped over her, making a funny face and wiggling his fingers off his nose.
Tommy said, "A monkey who can't swing like a monkey. So please, when you finally give birth, prepare for everything. Babies are super curious about everything, especially if it's colorful or looks innocuous."
"Which, to a baby, is literally everything," Neil added.
Frederick was typing on his computer upstairs, doing some business work for a law firm. From what I understood, he was working on their webpage because he was the only one in their company who even knew computers did more than three things. Yet he still heard us and shouted from upstairs, "Trust me, I'm planning on every contingency."
Neil went up the big flight of stairs and found Frederick, leaving me to Tommy.
"I'm serious, though. Babies seem like they're magnetically attracted to deadly shit. You have to really make sure your kid's never out of your sight."
"Okay, okay, I get it!"
"I know you get it, but I need to make sure you keep gettin' it, sillybutt!" Then he passed his hand over my hair and said, "Have you decided on a name yet?"
I shook my head. "Nope. I don't want to come up with one until I see the kid. I don't even wanna see the gender. It's gonna be one big Y2K surprise for me."
We both laughed. It was nice to laugh. I'd been laughing a lot, but also crying a lot. Later that day, I'd be crying over the thought of my child getting hurt because of negligence, and I had to do everything in my power to put it out of mind, even though it was necessary to think about.
As we talked over some coffee and tea (Tommy had coffee, I kept with tea just to make sure), Tommy brought up another topic that I hadn't much thought about:
"What's gonna happen if Jack comes back?"
Hearing it out loud reminded me why I hadn't thought of it— I didn't want to think of it. And hearing Jack's name did concern me for a second, but at the same time, I also thought, 'Who the fuck cares?'
So I said, "I'll sic my Unicorn on his ass if he even thinks of trying to pull another stunt like that." By that point, it had been half a year since Jack had shown up in our front lawn, but he was still coming back into my mind every now and again. Why? He wasn't doing anything to me. And maybe he was drunk that day. I didn't need to worry myself with him, right?
But worry myself, I did, and Tommy's mention of him was the worst thing I heard all day, even worse than the terrible talk of accidents.
Because it didn't take much to cross the two topics. If there was one thing that was well known in the world, it's that wolf Alphas have a nasty streak to them if they aren't part of the Northern Code. That is— if they learn their mate is raising someone else's baby, they will... It's just too horrible to think about at that time.
But the Grover wolves couldn't be part of the Northern Code if some of them were willing to torture an Omega like Tommy. The Northern Code was all about conduct and righteous beliefs, including a very progressive ideology that Omegas deserve respect and independence if we so choose to act for such.
This was just for Wolves, and it had been adopted a century ago— before a lot of non-shifter humans got around to the same thing.
There was a noticeable and unseasonal warmth to the air that day. Spring was on the way, and with it would come a new mouth and new love. I'd been waiting for spring for so long, and I thought it would never come.
Tommy's fall semester in college was going well, and I was supporting his endeavors there. He was happy with his life. He was happy working at Steamy Cups, playing with and raising Makayla, falling into Neil's arms, and passing his classes.
I wanted to have a similar happiness. I had my own Alpha, and I had a very luxurious place to live in. I guess the only common denominator as to why I was dissatisfied was Jack. If not for his ass, I'd have been happy and elated.
February started fading away into March, and it became warmer and warmer, though never particularly 'hot.' Many days, it was cloudy and yucky. Except with the warming temps, it wasn't even the fun kind of overcast day where the air was cold on the skin.
Soon, however, it was also almost time for me to lay back and give birth.
It happened on March 12th. I was working out in the garden out back, tending to freshly grown lavenders, when I felt the strangest and most suddenly painful pit form in my groin. It was like my pelvis had just formed an air bubble, and then popped it. Within seconds, I felt the escaping fluids pour down my leg, lubricating me for the birth. However, since I didn't have a vagina like women do (cloacas are fascinating things!), this meant that it was time for the thing I'd been afraid of: c-section.
I waddled back inside. Frederick ran to my side, holding my arms and helping me stay standing. By this point, my body was trembling, and I thought I was somewhere else, but the contractions brought me back instantly.
"Oh God!" I shouted, squeezing Frederick's hand.
The ambulance arrived and readied me on, with Frederick actually tearing up. The EMTs activated their birth protocols and administered some anesthetics, ones that were too weak to affect the baby but would reduce the
pain for me.
We raced onwards to Brooks Creek General, a massive 6-story hospital that towered over everything else in the town, or at least it would have if it were not snuggled behind a large grove of tall trees.
March 12th, 2000.
Welcome into the word: Joshua Paulson
Frederick
He looked like a tiny little bean, especially when I held him in my arms. It was unreal that a person could be that small at any point in our lives.
Josh was crying and crying, filling his new lung with sweet air. Stuart did a fantastic job, and there were no complications.
The first thing Josh ever did for us was poop. And it was something that seemed so fitting for a baby, to decide that his parents had to tend to his own shit because hey, they trapped him in a dark and scary place for almost a year, and he was quite comfortable in that dark and scary place, only for them to suddenly call him out and bring him into a place that was even scarier. It had bright lights and bizarre shapes that looked like faces, and there were also a couple of figures that kept holding him and putting tasty food in his mouth. I'm sure to an infant, that's the scariest thing you can imagine. Like being abducted by space aliens, or maybe being whisked off into your own nightmare.
But as for us, we looked at our little bean and cried to each other. It wasn't tears of despair.
In my case, I didn't even weep. There was a beautiful joy building within us, and it was nothing but that sense that we had brought a beautiful life into this world. Inexplicably, we had both arrived at the same conclusion:
"This day was why we were born."
Stuart was a real champ. There are few people more Herculean in this world than mothers, all because of the incredible amount of shit they have to put themselves through just to keep a bloodline going.
I'd look into Stuart's eyes and say, "You're the strongest between us two."
He giggled and said, "Stop it. You're the Alpha."
"I'm serious. I wish I had your strength."
While Josh was sleeping one afternoon (how he had finally calmed down, I'll never know), Stuart and I were in another room. He was wearing short gym shorts that showed off most of his thick legs, those child-bearing hips of his filling me with an unnatural attraction. My Unicorn was desperate to plug him again.
However, he said, "I'm still just a little sore downstairs."
"I understand that," I told him back, still ogling him. "I don't mind waiting."
And I really didn't. Sometimes putting something off to build that tension makes it sweeter when you finally do it. Such as when you buy a delicious treat and wait a few hours or even a few days before you take your first bite or when a movie you're interested in watching finally comes to theaters, but you don't immediately go to one of its first viewings.
I wanted to knot inside Stuart again. Not to make another baby— neither of us had pondered about whether that was a good decision to make, and I was starting to wonder if he did or didn't want a second child, but rather because I just needed to feel satisfied and Stuart was the one who could do it.
I looked at him often, adoring his body. I'd even look and adore him in photographs. This man was the cutest damn thing I'd ever seen (barring Josh). Do you know how magical it is to have a crush on your mate? Harry and Sabrina alike wish they could have that much magic. And I wished I could stay near him every single day.
Unless he was sick, of course. Then he would force me to stay away from him for all of our safety.
Around March 30th, he got fungal pneumonia. The reason why is a bit bizarre and even cute in its own way, but still reckless.
I had been listening to 'Pinkerton' by Weezer for most of that day, drowning out the rain. However, he thought he needed to work outside on some project that he never told me about. I always assumed it had something to do with a garden he wanted to cultivate, but he would disappear near the grove in the backyard, and I'd keep his privacy.
That day, he came back in very soon, and I saw him shivering and looking miserable.
And he said, "They're hiding, or maybe they're dead."
"Who?"
"The birds. There was a nest of parrots in the backyard, and I wanted to tend to them."
Parrots! And all this time he never thought to tell me! I didn't even know we had parrots. But then I remembered, "Oh, that's right, he must've ordered them online." There were a few assorted websites here and there that specialized in importing unusual animals from overseas for a nominal fee. The thing is, I didn't like it that much. By that, I mean both the practice as well as the fact there were so many sites doing the same thing. It started to ring a bit heavy to my ears like I had to be wary about something I hadn't even noticed before.
As for Stuart, he brought himself into our indoor jacuzzi bathtub to warm up. No sooner did he step out to dry himself did he start sneezing.
This started a three-week bout of mild pneumonia, which impaired his ability to nurture Josh, which forced me to step up to the plate.
I don't imagine I'd make a good mother, but I had to try my best.
The thing about Alphas is that we can be a terrifying bunch of bastards even when we don't mean to be. So while Stuart was in his room writhing and undoubtedly miserable that we couldn't be in the same room (out of fear I might catch the sickness even though that's not how fungal pneumonia works), I was in Josh's room at least 5x more often than usual, trying to make goofy faces, feed him his bottle, change his diaper, get him to burp, and otherwise stimulate him at all good and not so good hours of the day. He vomited one hour, right on my arm, and my Unicorn instinct was to immediately pull away. However, my Dad instincts were much stronger, so I kept him in my hands and carried him over to his crib, wiping him up and then rushing to the bathroom.
Though I was frustrated, I couldn't blame him. He was a baby. They didn't have any knowledge of how to control themselves or that they could be controlled. It was my duty to teach him, slowly and over the course of many years.
In the other room was Stuart, himself looking like he needed some tending to. I didn't have a butler because I preferred doing things myself, but this was the event that got me to invest in such.
Thus, I hired the services of Eric once again, asking him to come over and assist with serving Stuart.
Eric even asked me, "Is he alright?"
"The Doctor says it's fungal pneumonia and gave us antibiotics. But he's definitely stable."
Stuart looked at me like I made a joke about him and said, "God, I don't feel stable."
Both of us felt tinges of unease about the whole situation because it brought up questions about our own mortality. Stuart was going to survive this. He had the best medical care in the country, and that didn't include the doctors...
But what if his sickness was worse? He had just given birth, and everything about his body was weaker than it should’ve been. What if he didn't pull through or was at least irreparably damaged by it? I tried putting it out of my mind, but I remembered what everyone else was talking about back before we had Josh: that it was a good thing to think about this so that you weren't blindsided if it did happen. You always need contingencies.
Eric was there to help fix Stuart a thick and hearty soup that warmed his insides. He wasn't in heat, so anything that could warm him up was surely welcome.
When Eric left the room, Stuart pulled me down by my tie and said, "When I get better, we ought to bang each other's brains out. Dance on pneumonia's grave."
I laughed because he was making it sound like a more epic struggle than it actually was. Of course, I could tell that he was serious. And that was funny too, but a good kind of funny like when you joke about a cake that's about to land on your plate. I also liked this assertive and sexually aggressive side more and more.
I stayed by his side for most of his illness, even though he was always worried that I'd get sick too. Maybe it's because I'm an Alpha or maybe it's because pneumonia isn't contagious, but I didn't get sick. Since I wasn't getting sick, i
t was my duty to comfort my beloved. After all, who would I be if I did nothing but a deadbeat dad? Josh and Stuart alike were my responsibility.
With the help of some coffee a la Steamy Cups and more of Eric's soup, he had overcome most of the worst symptoms by mid-April, ironically when a warm shower started falling, and the parrots in the backyard were singing. It took another week for the fluid in his chest to drain, mostly by coughing it up.
Between Josh's phlegm and his miscolored phlegm, I learned one crucial thing during those early months: boogers fucking suck.
There was one other bizarre event that happened during all this: my father was beaten up by some Grover wolves. While this made everything tense around town, it turned out to be a misunderstanding due to yet another Grover Alpha trying to make his move on the mate of my brother, Malcolm, and Father just happened to be in the crossfire. Malcolm’s fortunes had finally turned and he had to come home, and this is what led to the attack. I got to visit Father in the hospital right as Stuart was discharged, and I learned that Malcolm and his mate were on the run. I saw Malcolm and the Omega he was with, they were on a bus, and we made eye contact. Father later told me not to worry about him: Malcolm had always been a bit of a lazybones, and he was the one who inherited most of our ancient royal wealth only to squander it partying in New York. Turns out, yet another Grover brother was harassing my family, and while I was called on to help, I ultimately had to let him follow his own path. This new chapter of his life, Father told me, was something he needed to experience to find his own way.
I still don’t know how to take this.
The wolves who attacked Father certainly couldn’t tell me what happened either.
OXO
May 25th
A New Millennium's Omega Page 8
