Chapter Thirteen
It was well past three o’clock before Frank, his mate, and Mom had the house back to normal. He hadn’t seen his mom so happy in a long time. But he’d noticed that she didn’t participate in any of the groups who were learning things. She’d flitted about serving finger foods and drinks and talking to everyone. Goes to show that some things don’t change, even though you try.
“Mom,” he hollered. “Are there any of those little food thingies left? I’m starving.”
“Now that you mention it, I’m hungry, too,” Amie said.
Mom came out of the kitchen looking exhausted. “No, those were gone halfway through. I can make us an early dinner.”
Amie bumped his arm and raised her brows at him. He thought back to their college years, trying to remember if they had a secret code for raised brows or something. After another second without a response from him, she dug her elbow into his ribs and whispered, “Tell Mom you’ll take us out to eat, dammit.”
Of course. His cat hit him upside the head. Dumbass. Go out and drag a deer home by the neck. Take care of the females. He reminded it they had modern things called restaurants so people didn’t have to hunt anymore. Oh, yay. Let’s chase down a plate of filet mignon set right in front of us. That’s damn exciting.
Frank sighed. “Mom, let me take us out to a restaurant tonight. You’ve been going nonstop for hours. Take a break and let’s go eat.”
“Sounds wonderful.”
* * *
All three walked down the sidewalk of the shopping district, which consisted of two places to eat, one clothing store, and the beauty salon and butcher’s shop. Everything was exactly the same as he remembered. As long as he didn’t look too closely.
“Hmm,” Amie said, staring down at the crumbling concrete foundation and faded material decorating the front. “Place needs a bit of TLC. But I know how tight money can be.” He watched as Amie studied everything around her. He knew the wheels churning in the wonderful, highly creative brain of hers. Her willingness to help and give freely of herself had not changed in the years they’d been apart. A hint of heartache came with the thought.
Mom said, “It could definitely use a remodel, but the dinner entrées are divine. I can’t even make a steak as tender as the chef here.”
They walked in to seat themselves. For being mid-afternoon, there were several tables occupied. The aroma of red meat smelled fabulous. No place in DC even came close to down-home shifter cooking. When passing each table, he glanced to see what each person was having. All of the dishes made his mouth water. His mom picked a booth along the wall and sat on the outer part of one bench, forcing him and Amie to sit together. He eyed his mom, knowing what she was doing. Her look was just daring him to call her out. He kept his mouth closed.
The waitress was quick to come by with menus. She introduced herself and took their drink orders. Next to him, Amie thumbed through the menu, turned to the back, then flipped it over to the front.
“Is this everything?” He looked down at her menu. It was the same as his.
“Yeah, why?”
She shrugged. “Didn’t see anything but . . . Never mind. I think I know what I want.”
The waitress returned with their drinks. Mom asked her, “Didn’t you used to work at the other restaurant?”
The girl nodded and smiled. “I did. I thought tips might be better here since they do more dinner business. Bob’s place does mainly breakfast and lunch. This restaurant is owned by his ex-wife. You knew that, right?”
Both Mom and Frank nodded.
“I love Dorothy to death. And I’d do anything for Bob, so . . . I don’t know. I like sleeping in. Dorothy doesn’t even open until one o’clock.”
“If Bob and Dorothy would work together, they could combine their places and have one awesome place all day long instead of two rents and two sets of employees. They could save a ton of money,” Amie tossed out.
The waitress snorted. “That’s the problem. I think Dorothy would kill Bob within ten minutes if they were in the same room.”
“Oh,” Amie replied, “they don’t get along at all?”
The waitress rolled her eyes. “Are you kidding? Bob’s a dog, according to her. And Dorothy’s pussy just can’t take all of him.”
Everyone had placed their orders when the front door opened and another couple walked in. “I’ll be back in a minute with your meals.”
Frank and his mom caught the whiff at the same time. Intense, unadulterated embarrassment. They looked at Amie. Her face was beet-red, mouth hanging open, eyes ready to pop out.
Mom got a worried look on her face. “What’s wrong, dear?”
Amie stuttered and couldn’t put a sentence together. Finally she spit out, “She was talking about her boss’s hoo-ha like it was no big deal.”
“What’s a hoo-ha, dear?” Mom asked.
Amie’s face turned redder. “You know. A woman’s . . .” She looked around then pointed to her lap under the table.
“Oh!” Mom said, understanding. Frank kept his mouth shut. This was way too dangerous a territory for him to tread. “No, sweetie.” Mom put her hand on his mate’s. “She was talking about her cat. Oh, wait.” Mom looked at Frank.
He put his hands up. “Don’t drag me in on this. I don’t talk about pussy in public.” Mom slapped his arm and Amie laughed. Amie pushed on his arm to let her out and she headed to the restroom.
“Son,” Mom whispered, “you’ve got to tell her what you are.”
“No, we don’t. She’s doing fine. Were there any problems with the ladies at your house today?”
Mom sighed. “No, but she went freakazoid when Butch shifted his lion’s head in the store this morning.”
“What?” He almost came out of his seat. “Why did he do that?” A few customers glanced at him.
“Keep your voice down. He didn’t know she didn’t know. She went screaming from the store and hit her head on the salon’s door and knocked herself out for a couple minutes.”
“She what? Oh my god, is she hurt?” He stood ready to run into the restroom and check his mate head to toe for injuries.
“Sit down.” Mom yanked on his jacket. “She’s fine. But doesn’t remember the seconds before she passed out. And we should leave it at that. But, François, you have to tell her.”
He ran nervous fingers through his hair. “Fine, Mom. I’ll tell her when the time is right.”
“Good.” Mom sipped tea from her glass and set it down. “Now, tell me about you two in school, because by the amount of pheromones floating in the living room earlier, you two know each other much better than you’re letting on, François. Any more scent floating around and we would’ve had a full-blown orgy going on.”
“Mom!” He ducked his head and looked around, praying no one was listening in. “You can’t say those things in public.”
“Sorry, son. I just don’t like not knowing the whole story.”
He wiped a sweaty hand down his face. “I met Amie at school. She’s my true mate—” His mom gasped. “I know, Mom. Let me finish. I never said anything to you because I didn’t know how to tell her about shifters. If I brought her home and she found out, I was afraid she’d leave me. But it really didn’t matter because she left me anyway right before graduation.
“She went home for the weekend while I stayed to study for my last exam. I never saw her after that. She sent me a text saying she couldn’t see me again.”
“She couldn’t see you again?” Mom replied. “What the hell does that mean? You don’t just up and leave your mate—”
“Mom, calm down,” he said. “I know. Something was going on at her home that stopped her from wanting to see me. That’s the feeling I got. Like she had no choice in the matter.” He pulled that story out of his ass. He hoped she didn’t smell his uneasiness.
“Why didn’t you go to her home and ask her?”
Oh, fuck. He didn’t want to get into all the Mafia stuff and Amie’s real name and why he didn’t know about either back then. He sighed. “At the time, it wasn’t possible.”
“What—”
“Just take my word for it, Mom. I couldn’t.”
His mom was quiet for a moment. “That’s why you joined ALFA so quickly. To get away from the pain you and your cougar were suffering.” He nodded. “That makes sense now.” She laid a hand on his arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He wiggled in his seat, uncomfortable with his mom’s scrutiny. “Mom, I’m not good with that kind of stuff. I didn’t want to come home with my tail dragging on the ground.”
She smiled and patted his hand. “Your father was the same way. He wouldn’t say a single mushy word or sentiment unless it was pulled out of him with giant pliers. You know, he didn’t ask me to marry him.” That surprised him. They were married, right? “He simply told me to make wedding plans and tell him when and where and he’d be there.” They both laughed.
Amie walked out from the hallway, talking to a familiar woman. He then recognized the woman as the owner of the restaurant. They talked and looked around the place. Amie pointed at something and Dorothy nodded.
His eye caught old Mrs. Hagerty staring at the two ladies. And the look didn’t appear nice. It looked rather hateful. He didn’t like that. No one threatened his mate. He started to stand, then Amie shook hands with Dorothy and came toward them. He moved to let her slide in, then sat beside her. When he looked back at Hagerty, she was gone. Crazy old woman, he thought.
“What were you and Dorothy talking about?” Mom asked.
“Oh”—Amie shrugged—“I had some low-cost decorating ideas she might be interested in. Just simple things, really. But they could have a big impact.”
Not too far from their table, a baby cried out. Two parents sat at a table with eight children. The kids looked identical, except in age, all with white fluffy hair and under twelve. Ah, yes, he remembered the rabbit family.
Mom said, “That’s Roger’s family. I think he was a couple years older than you. I can’t remember; he has so many siblings.” She stifled a giggle.
The waitress set a tray on a holder next to their table. She saw them looking at the rabbit family. Amie said, “There sure are a lot of them. I’ve never seen such fluffy, curly hair. Wow. How does she do it?”
The waitress waved a hand. “And that’s not even all their children. That’s normal for rabbits. You know the saying.” She handed over a plate with a steak taking up the entire area.
Amie motioned to the mother with the crying baby. “She has salad and carrots and veggies. I didn’t see that on the menu.”
“Good thing she’s a rabbit, then.” The waitress laughed. Frank, horror racing through him, glanced wide-eyed at Mom.
Amie said. “You mean she eats like a rabbit. Yeah, she does.”
“That’s because she is! But I love them to death.” The server laughed, picked up her empty tray, and headed to the kitchen. Amie looked at him, but he cut into his steak, pretending that the strange conversation hadn’t come from down the rabbit hole.
Amie asked Mom what the mother’s name was. Mom said, “Alice, I think. Alice and Roger—”
“Rabbit,” Amie finished.
His mom smiled. “Actually, it’s Angora. Roger and Alice Angora.” He hoped his mom didn’t go on to tell Amie that Angora was a breed of rabbit.
The three went about quietly eating. He wanted to get back to the house as soon as he could. Not only to get away from the whole shifter debacle, but he had plans for his guest this evening. His mother sniffed and looked at him. Fuck. Being in a shifter town sucked when you had your mate with you and you hadn’t had sex except with Mr. Hand for a couple years.
The main door opened and Mom’s breath caught. He noted a scent he never expected, nor wanted, to smell from his mother. Thinking about your parents having sex is one thing. Smelling when they wanted it was another.
He turned in his seat to see who had walked in. It was just Butch. Amie tapped his arm. Even she noticed Mom’s reaction. Huh, his mom had something for the meat man. At least she picked a guy who could keep her fed.
He’d think about matchmaking his mom later. Right now, he had his own libido to think about.