The Omega Nanny

by Penelope Peters

  Thomas could hear the steel edge in her voice; it made him smile, though he tried to hide it and instead looked up at the ceiling.

  “Yeah, but… alphas and omegas need paid leave. For estrus,” said Ralph, clearly in an argumentative mood. “I mean… come on! Betas? Can they even have sex?”

  Thomas’s head snapped back down. “I don’t think that’s any of your business, Ralph.”

  “Nor is it appropriate for a workplace discussion,” said Nora, seething but calm.

  Ralph snorted. “Guess that answers that. Always figured you for a cold fish.”

  Thomas was not a violent man.

  Most of the time.

  Punching Ralph, though, was still the most satisfying thing he’d done all day.

  * * *

  “You’ll be happy to know that I have convinced Ralph not to press charges,” said Enrique about an hour later, when the foyer had been cleared of the lingering pheromones – not to mention the drops of blood and saliva on the tile floor – and the rest of the office had gone back to work. Thomas’s knuckles didn’t sting anymore, though the bandages Nora had insisted he wear made it somewhat difficult to type.

  “Good,” said Thomas, determined not to breathe the sigh of relief he felt. He hadn’t really been worried about it – but it was still good to hear.

  “Disappointing,” Nora corrected, as she walked in and closed the door behind her. “I was rather hoping he would, because it’s quite difficult to be hired for betaphobia these days.”

  “Not exactly easy to fire someone for it, either,” Enrique pointed out with a frown. “I hope you’re here to check Thomas’s wounds and not actually butt in on the conversation?”

  “Oh, yes, his wounds,” said Nora, and peered at Thomas’s hand. “Congratulations, I think you’ll keep it. I can’t wait to hear how you convinced Ralph not to press charges, Enrique. You’re so very clever.”

  Oh, she’s very good, said Felicity admiringly. Thomas groaned and covered his face with his hand.

  “Don’t act as if I can’t see through you, Nora,” said Enrique. “Anyway, it wasn’t hard, especially when it was pointed out how it would look to the cops. Only an idiot would insult an alpha’s girlfriend and not expect some kind of consequence.”

  “Girlfriend?” echoed Nora, and to Thomas’s relief, she sounded amused.

  Enrique didn’t appear to hear her, though. “You really do need to report it to HR.”

  Thomas sighed and dropped his hand to give Enrique a stern look. “I told you. We’re not dating.”

  Enrique leaned over Thomas’s desk, a fairly territorial move for an alpha in another alpha’s office, particularly since Thomas had just punched a guy in the elevator bay. Thomas stared at Enrique’s hands, and then up at his face – not challenging, exactly, just completely incredulous that Enrique would do such a stupid thing. Even if Enrique was Thomas’s boss.

  “Buddy,” said Enrique, and his voice wasn’t challenging at all. It was almost kind. “Why the hell did you punch Ralph, if not because you’re dating Nora?”

  “He insulted her, and she’s my friend.”

  “Uh-huh,” said Enrique, nodding his head. “And she didn’t really seem to need you stepping in. So why did you?”

  “Because she shouldn’t have to put up with that stupid presentationist shit,” snapped Thomas. “Ralph was out of line, even saying it.”

  “I agree, and I’ve talked to him already. And now I’m talking to you. Are you dating Nora?”

  “No!”

  “It’s okay if you are. Alphas date betas all the time, there’s really no stigma against it. Hell, half the office thinks you’ve been dating for years already.”

  Thomas groaned. “I’m not dating her.”

  Enrique shrugged and backed off, heading toward the door. “If you say so. Hope the two of you have a good time at the marriage tomorrow. Don’t be getting any ideas now, since you’re so certain it’s not a date.”

  Thomas waited until Enrique was long gone before standing up and crossing the room to slam the door behind him.

  It wasn’t until he turned and saw Nora, still standing by the desk, that he remembered she was there at all.

  Oh dear, murmured Felicity. Bear….

  “I—” he stammered, feeling about as wrong-footed as he’d ever felt in his life.

  “It’s all right,” said Nora calmly. Her hands rested on the back of one of Thomas’s wingback chairs. She stood straight and tall and proud and for a brief moment, Thomas thought he saw her chin quiver just a bit.

  Imagination. She smiled at him, just as genuinely and sweetly as she ever did.

  “I think Enrique missed his calling as a matchmaker,” continued Nora.

  “He’s not the only one,” said Thomas, gratified when Felicity said nothing in response.

  “I know it’s not a date tomorrow,” said Nora.

  “No,” agreed Thomas. “I think we’re both on the same page there.”

  “Of course,” said Nora. “I should get back to work – plenty to do today.”

  “Me too,” said Thomas, and crossed to his desk to pull out the next file.

  Nora paused at the door, as if she wanted to say something else.

  It was cowardly, to keep his head in the file, and Thomas knew it.

  He did it anyway, and Nora left the office without saying another word.

  Bear….

  “No,” said Thomas firmly, and stopped paying attention to anything but building codes after that.

  * * *

  The rain started about halfway through the afternoon. It had grown increasingly dark in his office; when Thomas heard the drops splatter angrily against his window, he glanced at the clock, convinced it was much later than it actually was.

  Kieran will be picking Jessie up from the bus about now, he thought, and then remembered with a jolt.

  No, he won’t. Connie’s got Jessie this afternoon. Kieran won’t be by today at all.

  Thomas watched the raindrops slide down the glass. The storm was getting worse – just as well that Jessie wouldn’t be on the bus, and Thomas tried to take heart in Kieran not having to wait in the rain for her. He’d be inside somewhere, comfortable and cozy and warm. Probably at The Coffee Pot, laughing with his dual-named co-workers. Maybe sitting at a table and reading a book, with a cup of tea nearby.

  That was better than standing around in the rain, Thomas told himself, but didn’t believe it.

  By the time Thomas reached his car, he was exhausted. He sat behind the wheel for a long moment, hands resting on the steering wheel. The idea of driving home through the muck along with the rest of humanity, just to arrive at a home that was dark and cold and empty, did not appeal in the slightest. Even if Kieran and Jessie and Connie had been home….

  Thomas sat up a bit straighter. Connie and Jessie wouldn’t be home, but Kieran… Kieran knew they wouldn’t be there. He knew that Thomas would be home alone.

  And he had a key, and nothing else to do.

  The idea of Kieran waiting for him in the otherwise empty house was enough to convince Thomas to turn on his engine and pull out of the parking lot. It stayed with him the entire miserable drive home, a tiny spark of hope on the otherwise bleak horizon.

  The house was dark when Thomas pulled up – but that was all right, Thomas told himself firmly. Kieran was held up by the rain. He’d be there, as soon as it let up a bit.

  It took another hour for the rain to let up – it didn’t stop entirely, but when Thomas glanced out the window, it was definitely lighter, though still so overcast that the evening appeared grey and devoid of color. Thomas waited, watching the clock, looking out at the road for a familiar figure, and kept himself busy with the thousands of middling, menial tasks that built up over time. He hung a few pictures in the hallway, adjusted the door to Jessie’s closet, replaced a faulty gasket on the spare bathroom showerhead, and organized the tool rack in his garage before he looked at his watch again.

  Eight
-thirty. Full dark outside. The rain had become more of a gentle mist that hung low under the streetlamps, casting an eerie glow to the otherwise darkened street.

  There was no sign of Kieran.

  Thomas could drive over to The Coffee Pot, pick Kieran up. Bring him home and….

  Probably drive right by him, thought Thomas wryly. And if Kieran arrived to an empty house, he’d assume that Thomas was out with Connie and Jessie, and go away again.

  Besides, The Coffee Pot was open for another half hour. Perhaps Kieran was working.

  Thomas went back inside to wash up, clear away the dishes from dinner, every moment expecting to hear Kieran’s key in the door.

  He heard the garage door open instead, and his heart leapt before he remembered that Kieran wouldn’t have opened the garage door.

  “Oh, good, you’re still up,” said Connie, poking her head around the laundry room door. “Can you help me with Jessie? She fell asleep coming home.”

  “Sure,” said Thomas, already feeling the disappointment in his chest. He followed Connie back out to her car, where Jessie was just blinking around sleepily.

  “Hi, Fa,” she said as he gently eased her out of the car. “Were you lonely without us?”

  “Tons,” said Thomas. Jessie was a warm weight against his chest, and when she dropped her head on his shoulder and fell back asleep with a snore, the loneliness he had felt – and not until that moment realized was loneliness – began to ease a little bit.

  Jessie didn’t wake as he laid her in her bed, removed her shoes, and covered her with the blankets. He stayed by her side for a moment, brushing the curls from her face. They’d be a mess in the morning, but there’d be time to deal with them then.

  Lonely, she’d said.

  He heard Connie move between the bathroom and her own bedroom, preparing for bed. Heard the soft sounds as Jessie murmured in her sleep, reaching out to draw her stuffed animals to her chest.

  It was better with them home, thought Thomas. All three of them together, a neat little unit, just as they’d always been. And Thomas had always been content with the makeup of his family.

  Only now… someone was missing.

  And Thomas wasn’t sure if that someone would be willing to stay.

  * * *

  Sugar, salt, vanilla. Flour, baking powder, egg whites, shredded coconut… shredded coconut… where the hell was the shredded coconut?

  Kieran slammed the pantry door with a scowl. He just had one more batch of cookies to make for Connie’s marriage the following day, and it seemed that Cameron hadn’t restocked the shredded coconut. She normally kept The Coffee Pot’s kitchen extremely well-stocked – two or three bags of everything – but it wasn’t as if shredded coconut was a regular ingredient in anything they made.

  He ran his hand through his hair, glanced at the clock on the wall. Seven-thirty – none of the corner markets nearby were open at that hour, and they weren’t likely to keep shredded coconut in stock, anyway.

  The oven dinged as another tray finished baking, and Kieran sighed as he went to pull them out. He reached in and let out a hiss, realizing at the last minute that he’d grabbed one of the wet potholders from the sink instead of a dry one. He dropped the tray on top of the oven with a clatter, and went to soothe his pink fingers under running water while he sulked.

  Seven-thirty – and no sign of Thomas. Kieran had been sure that Thomas would come by after work. It wasn’t as if he had to go home to meet Connie or Jessie, who were off doing last-minute marriage things. He could have stopped in for dinner, since otherwise he’d be eating alone.

  But the night was still young, Kieran reminded himself. Plenty of time for Thomas to come by. Maybe traffic had been a nightmare; maybe he’d wanted to eat at home. Change out of his work clothes into something more casual. Check his messages, retrieve the mail. Maybe… maybe… maybe.

  A door opened at the top of the stairs, and Kieran turned off the water with a snap.

  “Kieran,” called Sally. “Someone here to see you.”

  Kieran sucked in his breath and checked his apron – clean, except for a bit of flour.

  Thomas, finally!

  “Okay,” he said, hoping his voice didn’t sound nearly as squeaky from the top of the stairs.

  Kieran quickly turned back to the dough he’d already started mixing – no way was he going to actually look like he’d been anticipating Thomas. And anyway, he still had to figure out how to make the cookies with only half the amount of coconut necessary.

  Thomas’s footsteps on the stairs were careful, almost overly cautious. The steps were narrow, and Thomas was a fairly tall man, though. Kieran waited until he’d nearly reached the bottom before speaking.

  “I ran out of coconut – what do you think I could substitute?” began Kieran as he dug through the pantry. “I’ve got almonds, maybe? Or chocolate chips? Or dried berries?”

  “Chocolate chips,” said Desmond, and Kieran slammed the pantry door again, this time accidentally, as he whirled around to face his older brother.

  “Desmond? What are you doing here?”

  Desmond stood on the last step and grinned at him. He’d been whippet-thin as a youngster, and put on weight when he’d been pregnant with Mary three years before. Still, he looked a bit gaunt and tired, and there were dark circles under his eyes that made Kieran nervous. No wonder he’d taken his time on the stairs.

  “Well,” said Desmond cheekily, “when Mohammed won’t come to the mountain….”

  Kieran went to take his arm. “Here, come sit down.”

  “I’m fine, I’m fine,” Desmond assured him, but let Kieran help him to the table anyway. “Jeez, those steps are narrow.”

  “You shouldn’t even be out of bed, let alone on that death-trap of a staircase,” Kieran scolded him.

  “Yeah, but no one would let me try coming down in the dumbwaiter.”

  Kieran shook his head. “You are ridiculous.”

  “So’s starting a batch of cookies without checking that you have all the ingredients,” countered Desmond, sitting back in the chair and resting his hand on his stomach. It was only very slightly rounded – more likely from dinner than from the baby within, but it still gave Kieran a curious lump in his throat. “Add more flour for body and then some chocolate chips, they’ll go well with the coconut already in it.”

  Kieran sat across from his brother. “Never mind the cookies. How are you?”

  “I told you, I’m fine,” said Desmond, a bit impatiently. “No one believes me.”

  “Well,” said Kieran, not exactly wanting to bring up the subject of Desmond’s previous failed pregnancies.

  Desmond sighed, hearing the unspoken admission. “It’s different this time. Honestly. I feel so much better than I did with the others. Don’t worry about me or the baby, he’s gonna stick around.” He rubbed his stomach with a wry grin.

  Kieran’s eyes widened. “You already know it’s a boy?”

  Desmond shrugged. “I’ve got a feeling. Anyway, I wanted to see you. And you’re too stubborn to come back home, so here I am.”

  Kieran bit his lip. “But… I didn’t think you’d want to come here, because of Cameron.”

  Desmond shook his head. “This has nothing to do with Cameron.” He paused, suddenly tense. “Unless you and she—?”

  “No. Noooo.” Kieran sat back, shaking his head and hands. “Jeez, Des, she’s more like a sister than an alpha.”

  “All right then,” said Desmond, visibly relaxing. “Just… I had the idea that you thought someone else was coming down here.”

  Kieran bit his lip.

  “Aha,” said Desmond, pleased. “I was right. Who is she?”

  “He,” said Kieran, and Desmond’s eyebrows rose.

  “Okay, he. Spill.”

  For a moment, Kieran couldn’t say a word – but one glance at Desmond’s hand on his stomach, and the sudden burst of longing for the brother he hadn’t seen in months was all it took. Before Kieran could t
hink twice, he told Desmond everything that had happened in the previous two weeks.

  Well. Almost everything.

  “You were that close to home, and you didn’t even go in?” Desmond stared at him, agape. “For crying out loud, Kieran. Mom would kill you if she knew.”

  “It’s not like I could go in,” groaned Kieran. “I haven’t even paid back all the money yet.”

  “Do you really think that matters?”

  “It matters to me,” said Kieran firmly. “And until I do, I might as well still be engaged to Vera. Mom and Fa sure seem to think so – Fa mentions her every time he comes in.”

  “Only because you haven’t given any indication that there’s anyone else,” said Desmond. “But now there is, so—”

  Kieran couldn’t sit still any longer; he jumped to his feet and went straight to the pantry and pulled out the canister of chocolate chips. “I have to finish these cookies.”

  Desmond leaned forward. “Kieran. Is Thomas ‘someone else’?”

  Kieran started measuring out the chocolate chips, trying to determine how much flour to add as well.

  “Kieran.”

  Kieran dropped the measuring cup back into the canister. “Yes. No. I don’t know. I don’t think he feels the same way I do.”

  “Have you asked him?” asked Desmond bluntly.

  “Oh, sure,” snapped Kieran. “Please, Mr. Father-of-the-girl-I’m-employed-to-watch, do you love me? Because I think I might love you, and I’d like to know it’s mutual, and oh, please don’t fire me either way.”

  “That’s a good start,” said Desmond, and Kieran groaned and went back to measuring.

  “Even if I did ask him – and even if he did say yes. There’s still the matter of the money I owe Mom and Fa.”

  Desmond sighed. “What’s the problem now?”

  “He’d want to pay it off,” said Kieran. “He’d offer, anyway. And I don’t want to let him.”