Temptation (Journal of the Wolves of Spruce Hollow)

by Tarrah Betts

  Still, Caver was a good sport about watching me when I knew he wanted to get back to his regular life, probably mostly due to the fact that Roan would pitch a fit if he found out that Caver wasn’t acting as a good replacement for him. It’s not that Caver was being mean towards anything or me; it’s just that no one could ever replace the bond Roan and I had.

  Caver just seemed tired of being at our house, watching movies and listening to me try and motivate him into helping me decorate the house for Christmas. So, I had lots of time on my hands to sit round and twiddle my thumbs and tormenting Roan to death, while he was too far away to do anything about it, sounded like way more fun than watching movies anyhow.

  After texting him all day long and not really getting the response I was looking for. I decided to up the ante and texted him a picture of my naked breasts.

  “Umm, Aspen, what is that exactly?” he texted.

  “It’s a picture of my boobs.”

  “And you thought that I needed to see your naked breasts because why?”

  “Because it’s awfully hard to know what they look like once the nipples are already in your mouth.”

  Roan shut his phone off and refused to talk to me for the rest of the day. I knew he was probably trying to teach me a lesson by shutting his phone off, but I wasn’t worried, he would turn it back on eventually. He couldn’t stand not knowing what I was up to.

  I just might do something that was against the rules and all.

  Justin and I had become sort of an item over the past month. We couldn’t go out on any dates of course, as I was grounded and Roan wouldn’t approve of me dating Justin anyway, even if I hadn’t been grounded. But even so, we spent every single lunch hour together at school and he would walk me to the bus stop after school and wait for the bus with me.

  Justin was fun and being around him made me feel good about myself. Because if most of the girls in school wanted Justin Meyers and Justin Meyers wanted to hang out with me. Then logic would only dictate that I must be kind of a cool girl that was somewhat fun to hang out with.

  Justin lived right in town and walked home from school like most of the students at Spruce Hollow High. The only ones that had to be bussed in were those of us who lived with the pack on the acreage or those who lived on the outlying farms outside of Spruce Hollow, like Sorcha and her family.

  Justin lived in the newer section of town with his parents, 3 younger brothers and an older sister. He was lucky, I’d always wished for a sibling, never mind 4 siblings. And I wouldn’t have been picky either. A brother, a sister, it didn’t matter to me what I got. A sibling of any kind would have been nice.

  I used to ask my adoptive mom for a brother or sister all the time when I was younger but she would always get this sad look on her face, so I stopped asking once I was old enough to finally realize why she was so distraught. Mom was mourning the loss of her mate.

  One thing I had learned about Weres, as I grew up, was that Weres could only conceive children with their blood bound mate and no one else. And since Mom’s mate had died early, there was no chance at all of me getting a brother or sister any time in the future.

  But I suppose Roan had kind of been like my older brother…and father…and unrequited love all in one package. He was a lot of things to me. I guess Fate thought that she had a good sense of humor.

  Apparently, Justin got along really well with his siblings. He talked about his family a lot, which surprised me. He wasn’t like the typical teen that was embarrassed to even admit that they knew their parents out in public. He seemed to really love all of them.

  Justin’s mom and dad had been married a really long time, since high school, I think. His dad had worked his way up and was now the bank manger at Spruce Hollow Savings and Loan and his mother was a stay at home mom who taught piano lessons to little kids after school. Justin’s life sounded idyllic and wholesome somehow.

  I wish I had that. I wanted that white picket fence, darn it all.

  Even though Justin and I had been spending a lot of time together, I still didn’t know whether or not he was my boyfriend.

  He’d never said that he was, but then again, he’d never said that he wasn’t either. I suppose I wasn’t really hung up on what to call our relationship, I just enjoyed his company. For once in my life, it was nice to have a guy look at you like you were the best thing to ever come across his path.

  The two of us would chat for hours on the computer after school, after he got home from football practice. Or sometimes he would call me on the phone. We really got to know one another over that month that I was grounded as all we could do was talk.

  I certainly couldn’t go anywhere, that’s for sure. I knew Roan was watching me, even if it wasn’t his own two eyes that were doing the watching. Caver had his back, for one thing, but I felt the eyes of the other Weres in the pack on me as well.

  It was as if everyone in the pack was keeping his or her eye on me while Roan was gone.

  Even though I wasn’t grounded anymore, I couldn’t even go to the corner store without feeling like someone was keeping an eye on me. I’d walked down to the Ruth’s Variety, a few days ago, to buy some gum and a bag of chips and the cashier, who just happens to be a Were, told me to “hurry on home, now Aspen”. It was definitely kind of weird.

  I supposed that was part of what I liked about Justin, I got to leave my werewolf tinged life behind and just got to be myself for a while. I didn’t have to think about the pack or worry about keeping their secret and I certainly didn’t have to obsess about Roan and how he’d been so hot/cold with me over the past year. I could just be me.

  Caver had gotten off the phone with Roan a few days before Christmas and from his silence and the look on his face, he seemed to be getting some sort or orders from Roan because as soon as he hung up the phone, he told me to “get my ass in his truck” because we were going out to go pick out a Christmas tree. He even stopped at the local coffee shop and he bought us both hot chocolate.

  I was thrilled because we were finally getting a Christmas tree but what made it even more special was the fact that it was Roan’s way of trying to be there for me and upholding our traditions, even though he was far away.

  Once we got to Johnson’s tree farm, Caver was ready to pick out the first tree we saw, just so we could get home sooner and he could go back to watching his hockey game.

  But I wanted a tree that I knew Roan would have picked out.

  After trudging through the snow for over an hour, I finally found it…the perfect one! It was enormous and would certainly fill up half our living room.

  “Er, don’t you think it’s a little big?” Caver asked as he shook his head.

  “Oh, okay,” I said sadly, “I can pick out a different one, if you like.” Caver took one look at the utter dejection on my face and sighed.

  “You want this one, kid, then we’ll get it. Let’s load it up!”

  Chapter 24

  ***

  Christmas came and went without much fanfare.

  Mom, Caver and I sat in the living room on Christmas morning, opening presents. The tree smelled piney and wonderful and I had been right on, it did take up half the room, just like I thought it would.

  I loved it, the tree was a thing of immense beauty and I felt so fortunate to have gotten it in time for Christmas.

  I even took a picture of it and sent it to Roan. He said it was very nice, then asked how Caver liked carrying it from the truck and into the house. I gave Roan the blow by blow and told him that Caver had only cursed a handful of times, although that wasn’t quite the case when the tree fell down with a monstrous crash in the middle of the night, complete with decorations, and Caver and I had to clean up the mess and put it back up again. Caver didn’t take it quite so well and there was quite a bit of swearing then. Not surprisingly, Roan found it a heck of a lot funnier than Caver had.

  My Christmas present from Mom, this year, was one that had me whopping in excitement. She had given me Dr
iving Lessons at the Spruce Hollow Driving Academy! This meant that I would soon be able to get my learners permit and then finally my driver’s license!

  And having a driver’s license meant freedom. Freedom from the pack and freedom from Roan and his social life wrecking, overbearing rules!

  I was so excited, I hopped around the living room clutching my new drivers handbook to my chest while Caver made snarky jokes about “staying off the sidewalks”.

  I didn't care, nothing could spoil this moment for me. It was the best gift ever!

  She also had given me several shirts, a pair of pajamas with fluffy kittens on them, a new flat iron, a pair of pink Converse sneakers, a cute purse and makeup.

  I was beyond jubilant with my gifts!

  Receiving gifts for Christmas was such a blessing to me because I never really started celebrating Christmas regularly until I came to live in Spruce Hollow. Counting on my biological mother was sort of a lost cause and something I’d learned early on not to expect. Some years we had Christmas, some we didn’t. Some years I had a birthday and some I didn’t.

  I didn’t really think about presents a whole lot because most of the time, I considered myself lucky if I got two meals in a single day.

  Usually my mother and I would go to the soup kitchen for lunch and then later on, my mom would buy me a bag of chips and chocolate milk on the way to her drug dealers in the evening.

  Of course, she would also leave me in the car, strapped into a booster seat while I ate the chips, and she went to get high. But at least I had something in my stomach.

  I’d spent many nights in the car, waiting for my mother to drag her drug-addled body back to the car. Most of the time I would have to wait until late morning or early afternoon of the next day.

  So, I considered presents some sort of magical symbol of love and caring for another human being.

  I didn’t have access to a lot of money, as the bank account that was opened for me way back when I came to live with the pack, was regularly policed by my mom and Roan. Every month, both of them deposited money into it for me but if I ever withdrew more than five dollars at a time, I faced the Roan Inquisition. Because of this, I was not allowed to use the money in my bank account to buy things for myself throughout the year or to buy Christmas gifts for my family at Christmas time. The money was for my Future Education, or so I’d been reminded a hundred million times over.

  So, I usually had to wait until a special occasion came up, like my birthday or Christmas to get new things and I appreciated every single thing I got, let me tell you. Maybe that was the inherent lesson behind denying me access to my bank account funds? To teach me gratitude? Although that was a lesson I really didn’t need instruction in. I had gone without a lot in my life. I knew what it was to be hungry, cold and scared. And because of that, I appreciated everything single good thing that came my way.

  To make up for the inherent lack of funds I had to buy Christmas gifts, Roan would usually take me out shopping to buy something for mom, and then mom would take me out shopping to buy something for Roan.

  I honestly think they enjoyed seeing what kind of useless item my child brain thought that they needed to have, more so than they enjoyed the gift itself.

  This year though, I was left up to my own devices, as there was no one to take me shopping and to pay for it. So, I gave mom a teal and white pair of mittens that I’d knitted while I was grounded.

  My grandmother, Nana Rosie, had taught me to knit when I was ten and I’d gotten pretty good at it over the years, the only problem was, I could rarely sit still long enough to finish anything.

  I had tons of half knitted scarf’s, mittens with no thumbs and unfinished hats stuffed into a forgotten bag in the back of my closet.

  I made Roan and Caver a pair of mittens too. Roan’s were black and red, while Caver’s were grey and white. I also gave my Mom a booklet with tickets I’d made up just for her. They said things like “This Coupon entitles you to one Free Homemade Supper and Clean Up Afterwards” or “Use this coupon to get your Daughter’s Bedroom Sparkling Clean”.

  My Mom liked them, especially the ones about cleaning up my bedroom. Yuck.

  I had figured out my reluctance to cleaning up my bedroom a long time ago, I just couldn’t convince my mother of it’s logic.

  The truth was that every time I made a mess, with clothes, books and CD’s covering every available surface, I still knew where everything was. I had a mental map of where I’d tossed every item and knew where to look for it, should I need it again.

  When I cleaned up my room, my mental map went out the window and I had no idea where to find anything was at all. It screwed up my “order within the chaos” and I couldn’t find things for days at a time. It was frustrating.

  I truly hated cleaning my room, so those coupons were truly a gift given with love because I knew that my Mom liked my room to be tidy.

  After we opened our gifts, I raced back to my room, my Driving book in hand, to get ready for the pack Christmas brunch.

  Every year, my grandfather and grandmother, the Alpha and his wife, Rosie, invited the entire pack to gather together and eat some of the best food I’d ever tasted in my entire life.

  Nana Rosie was one of those great home chefs who cooked straight from the heart and because of that, everything that came out of her kitchen was delicious. She frequently baked cookies for me and always made my birthday cake every single year. She made this awesome three-layer cake, with chocolate, vanilla and cherry layers sandwiched together with butter cream frosting and I begged her to make it for me, year after year.

  I loved Nana Rosie like crazy; she was so grandmotherly with her soft, loving hugs and caring spirit, she was a gentle spot to land on when life got confusing and hard. She was a wonderful woman, one that I spent a lot of time with as I grew up. Roan would bring me there to spend the day with her when my mother was out of town and Roan had to work.

  Nana Rosie and I would pick weeds in her flower garden, and then have lemonade on the front porch overlooking the Caledonia Mountains and play board games. My favorite being a game with a round metal playing board and marbles called Chinese Checkers. Nana Rosie said that it was really old and that she had played it as a girl, with her grandmother and that made it very special, in my eyes.

  Nana Rosie really knew how to put on a spread. My mouth watered at the thought of bacon, scrambled eggs, pancakes and French toast. I knew there would also be baked beans, casseroles, homemade bread with butter, fresh fruit cut in the shape of stars, hearts and diamonds and then the dessert table. Nana Rosie saw baking desserts as an expression of her love for those who would eat them. I knew the table would be laden down with cookies, squares, homemade doughnuts and pies. Nana Rosie made the absolute best butterscotch and coconut cream pie in the entire world.

  It was heavenly.

  I could just fill myself up on her pie alone, but then my mom would be breathing down my neck and giving me a lecture about healthy eating and all things in moderation, blah, blah, blah.

  Roan always said that I was way too skinny; so, I’m not sure why it would bother my mother if I grabbed an entire pie and a fork and went and hid somewhere and ate it. Not that I would ever do something like that with one of Nana Rosie’s butterscotch pies.

  Of course not! I would eat half, then hide the rest to bring home for later. Duh.

  Chapter 25

  ***

  I sat down on my bed to pull up my red and green Christmas socks when I noticed a shiny, silver box tied with a pink satin ribbon.

  What the heck was this?

  I picked up the box and read the attached tag; it said “Merry Christmas, little girl”.

  In Roan’s handwriting!

  I eagerly ripped off the bow and opened the shiny box. Inside lying on a black velvet backing, was a white gold filigree bracelet.

  It was beautiful and delicate and as I held my breath and picked it up with shaking hands to admire it, I noticed that there were two c
harms attached. A tiny black enamel wolf with white gold accents and a tiny, white gold little girl figurine with tiny emerald chip eyes.

  I hugged it to my chest as two, big fat tears rolled down my face. It was the most personal gift Roan had ever given me and I was speechless with joy. Usually for Christmas, he usually gave me things like books, CD’s, sporting equipment or clothes, but never something so beautiful and delicate as this.

  How did he get this for me when he was still up at the training camp? And who put it on my pillow?

  Caver.

  I bet it was Caver. Roan probably told him to pick out a present for me. I wonder if he was aware that Roan didn’t give me things like this?

  I didn’t care, it was still beautiful and the most important part of it all was that Roan hadn’t forgotten about me. I picked up the box, still sniffling, and looked at it. The handwriting on the tag was Roan’s; there was no mistaking his bold penmanship.

  Gently pulling out the black velvet and freeing the bracelet from the silver box, I noticed that there was a note folded and tucked inside the bottom cover of the box. I ripped it out and unfolded it with shaking hands:

  “Aspen, I am sorry that I missed Christmas. I hope you like the bracelet; I picked it out myself. I’ll be home soon. Be good, little girl. Love, Roan”

  I fell back on the bed, holding the bracelet to my cheek and reading the note over and over again. My insides felt hot and fluttery inside, like my blood was heating up. Roan had never written “Love Roan” on anything destined for my eyes before and it made my heart pound wildly against my chest.

  Maybe writing it was a prelude to actually saying it? My teenaged, hormone soaked brain was nearly rendered non-operational at the thought.

  Did Roan love me? Love me in what kind of way? Love me like a friend? A sister? The girl he wanted to marry someday? There were just so many ways you could love someone.