Red's Bear (Erotic Shifter Fairy Tales)

by Hines, Yvette

  Turning, Rena smiled at her. “It’s more than that.” Sliding her arm around her grandmother’s shoulder, she said, “I’m sorry I’ve stayed away for so long.”

  Wrapping her thin, but strong, arm around her waist, her grandmother squeezed her tight. “Don’t be. Everything happens in its timing.”

  “True. I’m still ashamed that I let my mother’s wishes keep me from yo—”

  Swatting her on the hip, Genma stepped away. “Oh, pooh. It’s not like I’m going to kick my toes up anytime soon.” Chuckling, she went to the back hatch of the vehicle and opened it.

  Shaking her head, Rena followed her to the rear of the wagon, gravel shifting and grinding beneath her feet. “Grandma, you’re going to hurt yourself. Get the smaller one. I can get the big suitcase.” She reached out to claim the bag from her grandmother.

  Rena was shooed to the side, as Genma walked past her lugging a heavily packed bag as if it didn’t weigh more than a handful of groceries.

  Reaching in, Genma collected the smaller one in her other hand. “You can barely carry yourself, let alone anything else.”

  Her grandmother was right, Rena did feel weak. The plane ride from coast to coast had practically done her in. During the two-hour drive from the airport she had slept most of the way, missing all the tranquil scenery. Still feeling queasy, she admired the woman before her with a slack jaw.

  “Close your mouth before you catch something.” Her grandmother moved toward the house, never breaking stride.

  Amazed, Rena lifted her jaw to seal her lips together. She wondered how she could contact the people from the Guiness Book of World Records and get Genma Berend added to it as the world’s strongest senior citizen. Rena wondered if over the years, with her grandmother’s only child far away and her husband passing away leaving Genma to take care of herself, if that was the reason her grandmother was stronger and more capable than most elderly. Rena wasn’t sure about the details surrounding her grandfather’s passing. It was something else her mother had refused to talk about.

  She never asked her grandmother about it because she didn’t want to bring up something that was hurtful.

  Closing the hatch, Rena went to the house. “I can at least unlock the front door for you.”

  “No need. Why don’t you sit on the porch or something? You have plenty of time to get this stuff unpacked and I’ll re-familiarize you with the house when you’re ready.” Her grandmother set the cases down for a moment to open the door then collected them and crossed her threshold. “I’ll get us some warm tea.”

  Country living, Rena thought. In the city where she lived, no one left their homes unlocked, even if they were just going five minutes up the street. It made her wonder once again why her grandmother wanted her here. It was apparent Genma wasn’t concerned about a stranger stealing things from her, so it was doubtful Genma would be worried about someone she knew and authorized to be at her house.

  Pushing those thoughts away, she took her grandmother’s advice and remained outdoors for a moment. The weather here was chillier than in North Carolina. It was fall back at home, but there was only cause for a light sweater at night.

  Standing in the great outdoors, she felt too anxious or uneasy to sit. She followed the wraparound porch to the back of the house. Her feet halted at the breathtaking view. Two hundred feet beyond her grandmother’s porch was a magnificent lake. The thick trees surrounding the single-level cabin-style home broke just enough for an unobstructed scene of Nature’s majesty.

  The thick redwoods created the perfect shade no matter which way the sun was shining and the lush grass between the waterfront and the house just made Rena want to take her shoes off and run. Run wild, free and uninhibited by illness. She wanted to feel the wind in her hair and the sun on her face.

  “Go on down there if you want to.”

  Startled, Rena glanced over her shoulder at Genma. “Grandma, I didn’t even hear you come out.”

  Standing at the back door that led to the living room with a tray filled with a porcelain kettle, two cups and what appeared to be a small basket of muffins, her grandmother smiled at her. “You were too focused on getting those shoes off to notice anything.”

  “What?” Rena looked down and sure enough she had somehow toed herself out of both her shoes. The charcoal grey, Mary Jane-style flats lay skewed in front of her feet, one on top of the other. Laughing, she said, “I didn’t even realize I was taking them off.”

  “Well they’re off now, go on out there and feel the grass between your toes. Dip your feet in the lake if you want to.” Her grandmother moved to a small table between two rocking chairs and set the tray down.

  Glancing away from her grandmother, she squeezed the rough banister beneath her fingers and stared at the sparkling water. “Won’t the water be too cold this time of year?”

  “For some maybe. But, it won’t hurt anything to swing your feet in it. Probably do your constitution well.”

  Looking back at her grandmother, she asked, “What about the tea? You went to all that trouble to prepare it.”

  “It will keep.” She settled into a rocking chair. “Go on. Everything will be fine.”

  Clutching the rail again, Rena had a picture flash in her mind of when she was younger and the other local teens in the area would leap over the banister—agile and free. However, that kind of antics was for children and the healthy. Not me. Not now.

  Unable to resist the lure, she walked around the side until she reached the steps that led from the kitchen to the yard. She noticed a large area that appeared to be a substantial garden. Presently it was barren, no fruits, flowers or vegetables could be seen. She knew her grandmother had started gardening in the years since Rena and her mother had been gone. Frequently, her grandmother would mail boxes of canned items to her after Rena moved out of her mother’s house.

  People in the city didn’t have gardens and Rena looked forward to feeling better and helping her grandmother plant some things before she returned to the East Coast. Maybe by the time her grandmother got back from whatever trip she was taking.

  Walking through the thick grass, she loved hearing the rustling of the blades of grass caused by her steps and feeling the soft, cool prickles too. Rushing to the water, she only had to break her stride a few times because her stomach turned and knotted, but she refused to stop.

  The planks of the dock were smooth and warm from the fall sun as her feet slapped against them. Once she arrived at the end of the dock, she sat and leaned against one of the two high beams there.

  She closed her eyes, and tried to recall the summers she’d spent right here. However, it was all fuzzy. For too many years her mother wouldn’t allow her to talk about Den County, her grandmother or how much she missed it. Lillian Hoodman was having none of that.

  “Forget it, Rena. Just leave it alone. Wipe that place from your memory.”

  Over and over, for two years following their final departure her mother would repeat the same words.

  “I guess you got your wish, mom.” Rena opened her eyes, and saw how the expansive lake narrowed downstream and took in the low mountains in the horizon. New memories, she told herself.

  Testing her grandmother’s theory, she lowered her feet from the dock and first dipped her toes then sank to her ankles in the icy water. It was cold, but refreshing in a way she could not understand. Everything in her body began to settle some. The queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach calmed several degrees as she just concentrated on the sensation of the water around her feet and breathed.

  When her toes began to feel numb, she pulled them out.

  Not wanting to keep her grandmother waiting any longer, Rena rose and followed her earlier path back to the house.

  At the house, her grandmother had a towel tossed over the back of the vacant rocker and a shawl beside it. Did the woman think of everything?

  “Thank you.” Rena sat in the seat and dried her feet, rubbing them vigorously until they were warmer. Sh
e slipped them back into her shoes that sat neatly at the side of the chair.

  “How was the water? Good?”

  “Cold.” Her teeth did a little chatter, but Rena still let the smile rise. “But good.” She wrapped the shawl tightly around her shoulders.

  “Here, have a little tea. It’s my own special blend.” Her grandmother poured her some steaming hot beverage and passed her a cup and saucer.

  “Wow, that’s some kettle, it is still warm.” Rena held the cup up to her face and allowed the steam to remove the slight chill from her skin.

  “It’s the hot plate.” Her grandmother tapped the metal plate below the pot. “Octavia got it for me a few Christmases ago. She and I love sitting out here and watching the snow melt as spring sets in.”

  “Ah, how is your friend?” Rena recalled numerous phone conversations she’d had with her grandmother about her friend and the things the two women were up to. If someone had overheard their communication they would probably believe Rena was talking to a teenager. Her grandmother went swimming in the lake, out for long hikes, caught salmon with her hands, camped in the mountains and went berry picking.

  “Octavia is very excited about going away tomorrow.”

  “Her family’s okay with her leaving on a trip? I remember you telling me she is close to them. Isn’t her husband mayor or something?” Rena sipped her tea. It was syrupy sweet just as she liked it. A custom she’d gotten from her mother. She’d watched her mother over the years add extra sugar or agave nectar, saying ‘it’s never quite sweet enough’.

  As if something was missing. However, this cup was perfect. Soon, Rena consumed that one and poured another while her grandmother slowly drank her own.

  “Benat previously was mayor… some time ago. Now their son, Jasper, holds the position. Benat doesn’t deny Octavia anything that she wishes.” A shadow crossed her grandmother’s face and Rena wondered if it was brought on by loneliness of her friend having family around her.

  Going out on a limb, Rena asked, “Are you thinking about grandpa? I’m sure you miss him. Will you tell me about him?”

  Her grandmother sighed, stared off into the distance as she held her teacup steady. “Osborne,” she whispered reverently. “He has never left my side.” She drank from her cup, and as if it had never been there, the shadow cleared and she smiled as she glanced at Rena. “But that is a conversation better saved for later…perhaps when I return.”

  Allowing her grandmother the privacy of her own memories, Rena returned her smile. “Then will you at least tell me how much sweetener you used to get this tea so delicious.”

  “You don’t have to add any extra when it is brewed. I cure it when I buy it from the store in town. Simply allow it to bake in the summer sun then store it in a canister.”

  “You make it sound so simple. I may have to extend my stay just for this. When mom or I do it, it is never quite this tasty. Like something is missing.”

  “I’m sure. Your mother was raised making my tea when she was younger.” Her grandmother exhaled, the sound heavy and strong as she slouched just a little in her chair.

  Rena could imagine the weight of the dissension between her and her daughter had worn on her grandmother, even though Genma tried to deny it.

  “A lot of things Lillian has pushed aside. Shunning her very nature. The order of things.”

  Frowning, Rena pondered her grandmother’s words. “You mean not being a part of her family? Keeping me from you?”

  “That and so much more. There is always time for such weighted conversation.” Lifting the small basket, her grandmother said, “It is more important now to get you rested and well. Have a muffin. They’re my sticky-glazed pistachio recipe.”

  “Oh, Grandma, this tea is working wonders on me, but I think a muffin would be too much.” Rena hadn’t lied. The tea was having a very soothing effect on her stomach. From the first sip it had warmed her insides and immediately settled the nausea. By the time she completed the first cup she felt more alert and her limbs less shaky. Rena wondered if she consumed the whole pot if she’d be able to run five miles on the treadmill again.

  Working out had been one of the first things she’d had to cease almost a year ago. She just didn’t have the stamina or energy to get through more than five or ten minutes. Her grandmother should think about selling her recipe to pharmacies and clinics. It was better than anything her doctor had given her.

  “Try one and if it causes you to become green about the gills again then you don’t have to finish it.”

  Tilting her head, Rena eyed her grandmother. “How do you know I’m not still feeling as sick as I was when I arrived?”

  With a sly smile that curled up on one corner, her grandmother said, “Oh, Red, a grandmother knows.” Stretching her arm further, she went on, “Besides, your face has color in it now, not so pale.”

  Rena was glad to hear that. She got tired of seeing her own ashen brown reflection peering back at her. “Just a bite or two.”

  Looking at the muffins with their shiny, sticky, nutty topping, Rena couldn’t help but lick her lips. She’d always had a sweet tooth and staring at the muffins and trying to decide which one to pick was doing a great job of re-awakening it. Selecting one of the smaller ones from the basket, she took a bite. Like the tea, the first thing she tasted was the sticky sweetness. Her insides seemed to be dancing as she swallowed it. Unable to resist the moist, fluffy goodness and the nut crunch, she took a second and third bite. If it made her sick she would have to deal with it.

  “Oh goodness, Grandma, it is soooo good.” Rena’s eyes rolled up and she leaned back against the rocker. She was in a delectable heaven between the tea and the muffin.

  “See, I told you. No one in Den can resist them.” Her grandmother chuckled. “Another?”

  As the last bite disappeared down her throat, Rena opened her eyes and peeped at her grandmother. “Maybe one more small one. I don’t want to push it. It seems like it has been months since I’ve been able to eat and keep anything down. I’m sure I will pay for this later.”

  “One never knows.” Joining her, her grandmother ate a muffin too. “Tomorrow, Greta from next door will be by to pick up the containers for Lola Shardik that will be sold at the festival next week. They’re in a plastic container in my pantry. But, I have a tin in there with your name on it. The other beside it is for the landscaper…he likes his extra sticky.”

  “Bless you.” Rena held the last bite of her second muffin with one hand and picked off the chopped pistachios one at a time, just to prolong the devouring of the last piece. The sappy glaze clung to her fingers. “What is this glaze…cinnamon and brown sugar?”

  “All kinds of spices and decadent goodness.” Reaching over, her grandmother placed her hand on top of Rena’s and squeezed. “Let’s go in, so you can get some rest. I’m sure you’re tired.”

  Popping the last piece into her mouth, Rena licked the sweet residue from her fingers and hands like a child who didn’t care. Rising, she collected the tray with all the items on it, before her grandmother could get it. She didn’t come here to be waited on hand and foot, something that would make her feel more like a frail invalid.

  “I feel fine, Grandma.”

  “You probably do, but you should lie down for a moment. Not overdo it. Besides, it will give me time to make some nice vegetable chowder for you.”

  Following her grandmother into the house, Rena moved through the beautifully decorated family room. There was a television mounted on the wooden wall between two tall movie cases. Before it was a long, plush couch and a glider rocker with a foot stool. Out of all the furniture, the glider appeared the most used. Along one wall there was floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, jam packed with books. That was something she knew about her grandmother. She loved to read, especially in the winter months when Den County practically shut down. In the corner in front of the living room window was an easel, a representation of her grandmother’s second love, painting. A blank sheet of
paper fastened to the top awaited her grandmother next creation.

  In the wall across from the bookshelf was a fireplace with logs stacked neatly in a metal box beside it.

  Rena had no problem seeing the room filled with children and adults, opening holiday gifts and curled up before a fire. There was a jab of guilt in her heart that her grandmother’s life had been so void of family. Yes, Genma had her friends, but they weren’t family and her family had abandoned her. Rena made a promise to herself that her relationship with her grandmother would be different from here on out. There wouldn’t just be letters and a monthly phone call. She would visit Genma often. Hopefully, she would get better soon and meet a great guy and fill the remainder of her grandmother’s life with grandchildren.

  Once they were in the luxurious, fully equipped, modern kitchen, Rena set the tray on the counter. There wasn’t a single appliance that she could think of that wasn’t in her grandmother’s kitchen. Rena was impressed. “Where do you want me to put the rest of the muffins, Grandma?”

  “Shoo shoo, Red.” Her grandmother flapped her hands up and down in the direction of the entrance that would lead back into the living room. “I can take care of that. Come on, let me show you to your room.”

  “Okay.” Rena laughed at her grandmother’s persistence as she followed her back into the main room of the house. She couldn’t be mad at Genma because she had come here not only to watch out for her grandmother’s house, but also to rest. It was just hard to think about lying down when she was beginning to feel so much better.

  “As a refresher to the layout of the house, this is my room.” Her grandmother pointed to the first door they passed down a long hallway from the kitchen.

  Rena peeped inside and saw the orange and navy blue comforter and decoration in the room. A queen-size bed with a wooden headboard was clearly seen.

  The next rooms indicated were across the hall from the master bedroom. They were dual doors that her grandmother told her had a Jack and Jill bathroom between them, a painting of a blue jay on the wall above the towel rack. Both rooms had full-size beds: one brown and green and the other sky blue and white.