by Ardy Kelly
“That’s thyme,” Diana answered. “I’ll call Ricky and warn him you’re coming. Hopefully he can point out anything you don’t know.”
“Feel free to substitute anything he doesn’t have,” David said. Just no sage. For some reason it makes me dopey.”
Diana laughed. “I’ll bet it does.”
Lionel was barely out the door when Constance’s car pulled up to the house.
“She’s here,” Diana whispered, shoving Joshua into David’s arms. “Take him. If I get the urge to strangle her, I’ll need both hands.”
There was a knock and a cheerful, “Hello. It’s Mother.”
Diana rolled her eyes before opening the door. The two exchanged a quick hug before Constance handed her a plush giraffe. “This is for baby Joshua. Are stuffed animals allowed? They aren’t considered stereotype caricatures, are they? Just to be sure, I got the giraffe, since they aren’t native to California. He can use the long neck for teething.”
David watched Diana hold her temper. “That’s your grandmother,” he whispered to the baby. “She’s human, but try not to bring it up in conversation.”
“And there are both of my boys.” Constance swept across the room, standing at the entrance to the kitchen.
“I told David he looks like a natural,” Diana said.
“Yes, he does. It’s always best to have children early so you can enjoy the later years. At least, that’s what my mother told me.”
“Maybe David will surprise you by taking your advice to heart.”
Constance held out her hands while David pried Joshua’s grasp from his shirt. “Oh, I hope so,” she cooed as she stared in Joshua’s eyes. “The sooner the better.”
“Can I quote you on that?” Diana gave David a smirk.
He shot her a menacing look. “I better get back to the kitchen.”
There is magic in the moment a grandparent holds their first grandchild. More than a simple episode of déjà vu, it transported Constance to the moment she held her own newborns. The overpowering feeling of joy, the desperate need to protect, the promise of undying love. Those primal emotions that are chipped away under the daily chores of feeding, clothing, bathing, educating, reasoning, arguing, disciplining. That one moment, unburdened from the future and the past, took hold of Constance.
She remembered how sure she was about her children’s destiny, raising them to be who she expected them to become. From the day Constance was told she was special, she knew she would give birth to a special child. She had watched them grow, measuring their progress against the history of twins before them.
Until the day Diana shifted.
A tear pooled on her bottom lash as Constance admitted she had been wrong about everything. And it was too late to change any of it.
She wouldn’t make the same mistake with her grandson. He was the first child in the family tree to be free of the Morehouse legacy. No, not legacy. Diana had been right years ago. It was a curse.
Joshua’s future was his own to choose. He was more precious than merely a special Morehouse child.
Tears flowed down her face at the thought, catching David and Diana by surprise. “He’s perfect,” Constance said with more emotion than she had ever displayed to her children. “And I know you’re going to be a better parent than I was.”
Diana teared up in response. “Damn hormones.” She wiped her eyes.
Constance dabbed her eyes on Joshua’s blanket. “It’s the Morehouse mood swings. They’re quite infamous. They started during pregnancy, didn’t they?”
Diana sniffled. “Maybe.”
“It wasn’t easy having two generations of Morehouse women hovering over me,” Constance said. “I’m afraid you would have had three. I’m glad you escaped.” Constance kissed her daughter on the cheek, and the two cried a little more.
Another knock and Raff popped his head in. “Is that Constance’s car I see?”
David chipped just enough of the frozen brine encasing the corned beef so it would fit in the pot. He turned the heat up high, poured a cup of hot water over the contents, and put the lid on it.
Diana popped her head in. “Stay in here. Dad just showed up.”
The microwave dinged, signaling the lasagna was defrosted. Concentrating on cooking rather than the family disaster looming in the living room, David scraped the noodles clean, cut them into triangles, and set them in the oven to bake.
As he pondered the frozen deer meat, Lionel returned through the back door. He set the basket full of fresh produce on the kitchen table. “Ricky just kept handing me stuff. Is this enough?”
“This is great,” David replied, picking through the basket.
Lionel turned an ear toward the front room. “Raff is here?” When David nodded, Lionel leaned in to sniff him. “In this warm kitchen, you’re starting to smell more pregnant.”
David grabbed a handful of mint leaves from the basket, and pressed them toward Lionel’s nose. “Will this help?”
Lionel nodded, and David crushed a few leaves in his hand. Not knowing the exact location of the offending glands, he rubbed the leaves all around his neck before moving to his wrists.
Lionel leaned in again. “That’s better.”
“Now do me a favor and send my sister back.” He waved his brother-in-law out of the kitchen.
The pot on the stove rattled its lid, signaling a rolling boil. David turned the dial down and stirred the contents.
Diana snuck into the kitchen, leaning over her brother’s shoulder to stare into the pot. “That smells good.” She scooped up a ladle of broth and blew on it. After testing to make sure it was sufficiently cooled, she dumped it on David’s shirt.
“Ow!” he cried. “What did you do that for?”
“Camouflage,” she replied, dropping the ladle back in the pot. “Meat is always a better disguise than herbs.”
“Is everything all right in there?” Lionel called from the front room.
“No worries,” Diana answered. “David just spilled something on his shirt.”
She took a whiff of her brother. “If you want to get away with this, you have to layer the scents. Try some garlic.” Grabbing a clove, Diana reached for David’s neck.
He pushed her away. “I’ll do it myself.”
She opened the spice cabinet. “We’re going to need something stronger to fool Dad’s nose.” Randomly grabbing spices, she shook a generous portion of each into a small bowl. After adding a little water, she mashed it into a paste and took a whiff.
“It’s missing something…” She sniffed it again. “Cayenne pepper! That’s what it needs.” Diana dumped a generous amount into the bowl and took another inhale. “That’s the ticket. Nobody will guess your secret.”
David cringed at the smell. “Because no one will be able to get within a mile of me. What’s in this?”
“A little of this, a little of that.” When he glared at her, she elaborated. “Italian seasoning, onion powder, turmeric, cinnamon, Old Bay Seasoning, paprika, mustard. Basically, everything I had except saffron. As much as I love you, saffron is too expensive to waste.”
When she slopped it on David’s neck, he let out a howl. “That stings!”
“That means it’s working. Or it’s the cayenne pepper. Just let it soak in, and then wash it off before you serve dinner.”
“How am I supposed to cook if I can’t smell anything?”
Before she could answer, a voice came from behind them. “David. Can’t you even spare time to greet your father?”
Diana and David both turned to see Raff in the doorway.
“Something smells…” Raff paused, not sure how to politely finish the sentence.
Diana rushed to block him from getting any closer. “Dad, you know you aren’t supposed to bother the cook when he’s busy.”
“But we never get a chance to visit.”
David hurriedly started chopping tomatoes. “Hi, Dad. Can’t talk now.”
“I’m sure you’ll be seeing a
lot more of David now there’s a baby.” She winked at her brother while pushing Raff back. “Now, get back out of here and let us finish cooking.”
Waiting until Raff was out of earshot, David whispered, “Maybe I should just stay back here all night.”
“No way,” Diana replied. “You don’t want to miss Mother’s one-woman version of The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. It’s as if she actually has a heart now.”
“Joshua sure had an effect on her.”
She nodded. “We’ve been in the same house for thirty minutes and she hasn’t criticized me once. And it’s not just me. She’s even getting along with Dad.”
“I’ve heard of demonic possession, but never angelic possession.”
Diana threw a dish towel over her shoulder as she collected the dirty dishes. “Maybe it’s just low blood sugar. Once we get some food in her, she’ll return to normal…or whatever Mother usually is.”
She swiped a finger into the bowl of warm cheese and tomato sauce. She took a sniff. “What’s this?”
“I scraped the filling out of the lasagna. You had phyllo dough in the freezer, so I thought I’d make puff pastries.”
Diana licked her finger clean. “What did you do with the noodles?”
“In the oven. Would you check on them?”
Opening the oven, she pulled out a baking sheet loaded with small triangles of pasta. “How’s this?”
“Perfect.” David washed his hands before adding a dollop of olive oil, tomatoes, and fresh herbs to one of the pasta chips. “Try this and tell me what you think. It’s the closest I could get to bruschetta with what I had to work with.”
She bit into the crunchy noodle before smiling broadly. “It’s good.”
“Would you make an appetizer plate of them while I finish the pastry puffs?”
It didn’t take long for Diana to reappear in the kitchen with the empty plate. “Everybody wants your recipe.”
David grabbed the oven mitts. “Let’s see how they like the next one.” He pulled a small bowl from the oven, and a delicious smell enveloped the kitchen.
Diana grabbed a cracker and dipped it in the bubbling concoction. Her eyes lit up when the flavors met her tongue. “It tastes like a Rueben sandwich.”
“I didn’t know what to do with the corned beef. Then I saw the sour cream and cream cheese in the fridge, so I made a dip. Take it while it’s warm. It won’t be so appetizing when it cools off and congeals.”
A shrill ring resonated from the ancient harvest-gold rotary phone on the wall.
Diana growled as she picked up the dip and crackers. “Damn telemarketers. Get it, would you? We don’t have voicemail and it will just keep ringing until you answer.”
He grabbed the receiver. Before he could say a word, he heard Chet’s voice. “Is David there?”
“Oh, Chet. Hi.”
His sister paused in the doorway, turning to watch her brother.
“Are you feeling better?” the voice asked.
David turned his back to Diana, in an attempt for a little privacy. “Yes, I’m much better. But I can’t imagine doing this for nine months.”
Chet’s voice conveyed a sly smile. “What happens in nine months?”
David swallowed. “Nothing. I mean…my sister was telling me morning sickness stories.” Looking over his shoulder, he saw Diana smirking. He flicked his wrist at her. “Don’t let it get cold.”
With a laugh, she left the kitchen.
“Are you talking to me?” Chet asked.
“No. My sister. I’m making dinner for the family.”
“I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“No, you’re not. I’m still cooking.”
“I get off duty in an hour. Figured you might need a drive back to Timber Crossing to get your car.”
Getting out of Lone Wolves Ranch sounded like a great idea. “Yes, please. I’d appreciate it.”
“Sure thing. Since I’m not allowed on property,” he said with a touch of resentment, “meet me at the guardhouse. Is ninety minutes enough time?”
“More than enough. And Chet…thanks for thinking of me…being stranded, I mean.”
“No problem. Though I’m a little disappointed that you haven’t been thinking of me.”
David blinked. He must be joking. “Sorry. I’ve been a little overwhelmed with…babies.” David winced, gave a hurried good-bye, and hung up before he embarrassed himself anymore.
Diana chuckled as she returned to the kitchen. “Sheriff Chet must have a thing for the socially awkward types.”
“It’s not polite to listen in,” David replied.
“I’m a wolf. I can’t help my superior hearing. And by the way, it’s four months.”
“What’s four months?”
“Omega pregnancies. You’ll be delivering in four months.”
He swore softly. “Then we’d better set the table before I start to show.”
Diana counted out the silverware. “Be warned. You won’t recognize Mother.”
David sliced the deer meat and poured a red wine reduction over it. “I’m sure she’ll say something about the food.”
Adding the puff pastries and vegetables to each plate, he was about to carry the dinner to the front room but Diana blocked his way. “Let’s wipe the paste off your neck.”
As David predicted, once the family was seated at the table, Constance was the first to comment. “Everything looks delicious.”
Diana nodded. “He made it all from my leftovers and what Lionel picked in the garden.”
“I know none of it goes together,” David explained. “I would never serve bruschetta and a Rueben dip with game meat. I guess I got carried away.”
“You’ve always been creative.” Constance picked up her fork and took a bite of her meal. “Delicious.”
David shot a glance at his sister, who wore an I-told-you-so expression.
Constance noted the silent exchange between the twins. “What?”
David’s guilty expression told her everything she needed to know. She set her fork down. “Is it so unusual for me to compliment my own children?”
“Not at all,” Diana replied. “We were just waiting for the ‘but.’”
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s nothing,” David replied, hoping to avoid a return of his nervous stomach.
“I want to hear it from Diana,” Constance demanded. “She’s always been the truth-teller in the family. Maybe now I’m ready to listen.”
Diana weighed her words carefully. In the past, she hurled her opinions without regard to anyone’s feelings but her own.
Now, she was being asked. “It’s never just a compliment. I remember when you told me, ‘Diana, you are so intelligent,’ and followed it with ‘but too lazy to apply yourself.’ Or, ‘You are so lovely, but why do you dress like such a slob?’”
Constance’s brow furrowed as she pondered the comment. “You’re right. I don’t know why I do that.”
Raff squeezed her hand. “It’s the way you were raised.”
Her eyes watered and she wiped them. “Since the whole family is here, it gives me the opportunity to tell you all that I regret being a Morehouse first and a Packman second.” She looked to Lionel and Diana. “I want to be part of Joshua’s life. If you’ll let me.”
Diana nodded. “We’d like that.” And to cover her own emotions, she added sarcastically, “As long as you don’t relapse.”
Constance gave a sorrowful chuckle and turned to her husband. “I treated you the same way, didn’t I? I don’t blame you for leaving. You deserve to be happy. I hope you found someone who makes you feel that way.”
Raff smiled warmly. “I did, twenty-five years ago. Wolves mate for life. Didn’t you know that?”
“My knowledge of wolves is pitifully small.”
“You’re a fast learner,” he replied.
Chapter 6
As they finished dinner, someone knocked at the door. When Diana opened it, Troy pushed
past her. “Hello, everyone.”
David looked up suspiciously. “Hello, Troy.”
Constance waved. “It’s so good to see you.”
“You two know each other?” Raff asked.
“Troy was a tremendous help with the wedding,” she replied. “And his oldest boy was the ring bearer.”
“Phillip still talks about that. It was his first human-style wedding. Now he wants one just like it.”
“Maybe you can help my David,” Constance said. “I suspect he needs a good wingman to meet women.”
“I’ll teach him everything I know,” Troy assured.
Diana snickered. “That won’t take long.”
Troy held up a paper bag. “I’m just dropping David’s lunch off. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Didn’t you?” Diana asked, still holding the door open.
Troy turned to her. “Maybe a little,” he whispered as he left.
Raff adjusted his napkin. “I can say for sure, David, he can’t teach you anything about meeting women.”
“Don’t be silly,” Constance said. “He’s a family man.”
“He’s an omega,” Raff replied. “He gave birth to his children.”
She turned to Diana. “Is your father having fun with my ignorance?”
Diana shook her head. “No. Omegas are something special.”
“They are here,” Raff said. “In my day, they were considered deformities, and expelled.”
Lionel cleared his throat. “Some packs consider them sacred. They call them ‘the twin spirited.’ Being so rare, it was considered a blessing for a pack to have one.”
“They’re not so rare around here,” Raff replied. “They’re practically overrunning the place. It will dilute the blood of the pack. Who knows what kind of issues the cubs born of them will have?”
Lionel placed his napkin on the table. “My grandfather was an omega,” he said in a gentle but firm voice. “He died saving my mother from a rival pack who shared your opinions.”
“I’m sorry,” Raff apologized, still unwilling to concede his point. “But if you carry the omega gene, would you want that life for your own son?”
David rose before Lionel could answer. “Let me clear the table before dessert.” He picked up a handful of plates and hurried to the kitchen.
