Lou reached the top of the stairs and leaned against the newel post. Walking up all those flights seemed harder than ever. She was out of puff, her legs barely wanting to carry her. She’d been doing this climb several times a day for over two years, so it made no sense for her to suddenly be out of condition.
Maybe it was due to her winter coat and boots. Snow had arrived early this year—it was only mid-November—and she wasn’t used to the extra weight of heavy clothing. Or it could be the fact she’d increased her course load this year, determined to finish her degree sooner rather than later. Burning the candle at both ends, that’s what it was called, wasn’t it? At least she was getting good grades and the professors were really starting to take notice of her. Hopefully that would help when it came time to apply for a job.
The smell of cooking drifted down the hall and she made a face. Perhaps her problem was she’d never really recovered from the bout of food poisoning she’d picked up at that restaurant Neil had taken her to. He’d been so apologetic even though she assured him it wasn’t his fault the fish had been off. It had crossed her mind that she’d never gotten food poisoning when she was with Armand but she’d tried to ignore the thought. Comparing Armand and Neil was a habit she tried to avoid…and failed miserably at.
Regardless, her digestive system still hadn’t forgiven her for the awful experience. She had no appetite and preferred to stay curled up in bed whenever possible. And bed was where she was heading right now. Taking a deep breath, she forced her legs to move and crossed the short distance to the apartment.
She unlocked the door and took off her coat, then struggled to remove her boots. Winter sucked.
“Hey, Lulu.” Roxi wandered into the foyer munching on a tuna sandwich.
One look at the concoction and memories of the food poisoning debacle came rushing back. Hand over her mouth, she ran to the bathroom and heaved.
When there was nothing left in her stomach, she sank down beside the toilet and leaned her head against the wall, shaking and clammy. Would she ever be done with this punishment? She promised Neptune or whoever the king of fishes was, that she’d never again eat one of his subjects if only her stomach would quit going into reverse.
“Here.” Roxi appeared and handed her a washcloth.
“Thanks.” She wiped her face and then stood up, got out the bottle of mouthwash and began to swish.
“So, when are you going to tell me you’re pregnant?”
The question had her spewing mouthwash all over the vanity and it took a moment to clean up the mess, which at least gave her time to regain her composure enough to reply.
“I am not pregnant!” She glared at Roxi, appalled she’d even suggest such a thing. “Whatever gave you that idea?”
“You’re tired. You’re sick all the time—”
“I had food poisoning and you damn well know it.”
“When was the last time you had your period?”
She huffed indignantly and folded her arms. “It was… Umm…” When had it been? There’d been a bit of spotting but…
Roxi began to rummage around under the sink, pulled out a small bag and handed it to her. “Pee.”
“What?”
“Pee on the stick.”
“Where did this come from?” She stared suspiciously at the contents of the bag.
“I had a scare once—turned out I was just late—but now I keep one on hand. Nothing worse than walking into a store, scared shitless you’re prego, and trying to pick a pee stick.”
“Oh. Well, I’m not pregnant so save it for yourself.” She tried to hand the bag back.
Roxi refused to take the package, instead grabbing her by the shoulders and turning her towards the toilet. “Pee!”
“I’m not a dog, you know. I don’t pee on command.”
“I don’t care. You say you’re not pregnant. I say you are. Prove one of us right so I can get back to my sandwich.”
“Fine. Anything to get you to leave me alone so I can take a nap.” She shoved Roxi from the bathroom, opened the box and read the instructions. Why she bothered, she didn’t know. There was no way she was pregnant.
Ten minutes later she was still in the bathroom. Roxi was pounding on the door.
“Lulu, it doesn’t take that long to pee and read the test! What’s going on? Are you okay?”
She opened the door, feeling even shakier than she had after throwing up. “It says I’m pregnant.”
“Wow.” Roxi stared at the stick that lay on a neatly folded bunch of toilet tissue. “I was right. Are you okay?”
“It has to be wrong. I can not be pregnant.” She shook her head and stared at the stick again.
“It happens. I mean I’m sure you and Neil took precautions but—”
“No.”
“You didn’t use birth control?” Roxi’s eyebrows shot upward.
“I mean Neil and I never had sex.”
“Well, fooling around can—”
“No!” She picked up the stick and dropped it into the garbage then pushed past Roxi. “We’ve never fooled around. He kisses me on the cheek. We…” She shook her head. “There’s nothing between us. I go out with him sometimes after work. I like him, but that’s it.”
“You have another guy on the side?”
“No! There’s been no one since Armand, so I can’t be pregnant. That was back in August and it’s now November.”
Roxi counted on her fingers. “It’s possible you just didn’t notice the signs.”
“No, I’m sure. The test you gave me was old or defective. I’ll take another one tomorrow.” She knew she was talking faster, her voice growing higher in pitch. She clamped her mouth shut and tried hard to calm down. “I’m going to go take a nap. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Lulu, I’m sorry.” Roxi put her hand on her arm. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I know. I’m just tired and need to rest.” She tried to smile. From the look on Roxi’s face she wasn’t very successful.
Roxi stood in the hallway outside the bathroom watching as Lulu pushed her bedroom door shut. It was followed by the mattress squeaking and the rustle of covers.
Yeah, Lulu was pregnant, she’d bet her bottom dollar on it and that was saying something because she never threw money around, at least not her own.
She returned to the kitchen and finished her sandwich, then dumped the plate in the sink to be washed later. There were several other dishes waiting to be washed as well but she’d deal with them later if the dish fairy didn’t show up. More important things had to be dealt with first.
About to head to the living room, she did a U-turn and foraged in the cupboards. This would require some thinking and thinking needed brain food. Grabbing a bag of chips, she made her way to the sofa and plopped down.
Neil wasn’t the father.
That was surprising, pleasantly so. Nothing against the guy but the few times they’d met, he’d been as dull as beige paint and she’d hate for him to be hanging around the apartment all the time, which he would if he was the father because Neil was the decent sort. He’d be attentive and fussing and quoting baby books. The very idea made her shudder.
She crunched on a chip as she considered Lulu’s claim that she hadn’t been messing around with anyone else. That rang true. Lulu was always working or studying or hanging with Neil after volunteering at the centre.
So that left Armand. It wasn’t unreasonable for him to be the father. Sure, three months was a long time but Lulu’s brain was probably in denial. And then there was the fact that Ursas were weird. They could be a little bit pregnant for months before the cub actually started to grow. It was something to do with their inner bear and hibernation. This cold snap could have set things in motion so to speak.
Now she had to decide what to do about it. Did she tell Armand? Or tell Lulu she had to tell Armand? Or did she just let things slide and see what happened? Shifters, like most Others, were dead set against humans knowing about their existence. What were the chances the pregnancy would progress normally and not result in any awkward questions? She wasn’t really sure. There were mixed race individuals out there who had no idea of their unique heritage, so maybe it would be okay.
Sighing heavily, she realized she’d finished all her chips and now needed a drink. Damn, she hated being stuck in the middle of things like this. Getting involved in people’s lives wasn’t her thing.
Chugging down a glass of milk she decided there wasn’t anything she could do at the moment. And there was a slight chance she was wrong, and Lulu wasn’t pregnant.
She rolled her eyes. Fat chance of that.
Armand entered the bar, brushing snow from his coat and stomping his feet. He’d finished shovelling the walk after using the blade mounted on his pickup truck to clear the parking lot. The snow might be falling heavily but there were always a few intrepid souls who would brave the weather for a night of socializing at the bar.
“Here, let me help you.” Jenna appeared at his side as he shrugged off his heavy winter coat. She hung it on the hook behind the door and then brushed snow from his hair when he sat down to remove his boots. “You look like the abominable snowman.”
He laughed and placed the boots on the tray so the melting snow wouldn’t make a puddle on the floor. “What smells so good?”
“I made a pot of stew. I figured that would go over well on a day like this.”
“I’m sure it will.” He went to peek at the meal that was bubbling on the stove. Jenna was a good cook and had taken to bringing him samples of the meals she made. She worked in business promotion by trade but enjoyed ‘poking about in the kitchen’ as she called it.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day. You remember? About sponsoring a craft fair? I ran some numbers and I believe it would be really profitable for the town.” She shooed him away from the stove and pointed at the table. “Sit and I’ll bring you a bowl.”
He did as he was told, bemused by how his size didn’t intimidate her. Jenna was a ‘go-getter’ according to Ruth and she was setting the town on its ear, making suggestions on everything from how to perk up store window displays to improving the ads in the newspaper and offering Daniel’s band promotional hints.
“Keeping busy helps me not think about the past,” she’d once told him and he’d nodded in understanding. When the bar was empty or he was lying in bed at night, that was when thoughts of Lucy filled his mind. Of course, he’d not told Jenna that; his feelings for Lucy were too raw. And for the same reason, he’d not asked Jenna about her past. If she wished to share, she would.
Instead, he’d let her help him rearrange the bar, creating a larger dance floor by moving the tables and changing the angle of the pool tables. When he’d mentioned an art fair, she’d immediately grabbed onto the idea and had begun researching the possibility. Yes, she was definitely a ‘go-getter’.
“Here you are.” She placed the bowl in front of him along with a dinner roll and then sat down across the table from him, cup of coffee in hand. “If we tie this arts and crafts fair in with the fishing season, we can double the number of tourists to the area. Maybe run a fishing derby…”
He listened and ate as she talked, all for helping the town to prosper as long as it didn’t lose its quiet, calm lifestyle. When he’d finished his meal, he stood and took the bowl to the sink.
Jenna stood as well. “I’ll put the rest of the stew in the fridge for you to have tomorrow.”
“No need, I can do that.” He reached out and stayed her when she would have started to bustle about the kitchen. “You’ve done enough already. There’s plenty of time for me to do it before I open up for business.”
She stilled and looked at where he was touching her arm and then raised her eyes to his.
He withdrew his hand slowly. Jenna was a pretty woman; average size with light brown hair and brown eyes. She was friendly, smart, capable and she made him laugh. Plus, she also seemed content to be in a small town and was creating a niche for herself.
“Are you ever going to kiss me, Armand?”
The question startled him. It shouldn’t. After a few months of seeing each other casually, it was long past when things should begin to progress. “I…”
“I like you, and I think you like me.” She looked at him expectantly then rose on her toes and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “There. Initial awkwardness gone. You think about it.”
He nodded.
She grabbed her coat and pushed her feet into her boots. “I’m going to meet with Daniel and help him create some promotional flyers. His band is good enough that they could get gigs in other towns on the nights they’re not working here. Don’t hesitate to give me a call if things get busy here after dinner. I don’t mind coming in to help even if it isn’t my night.”
With a wave she left, not waiting for him to reply, which was fine as her words had washed over him, his mind otherwise occupied.
Jenna had kissed him!
His tongue slipped out and touched the spot. The taste of her lingered, unremarkable though not unpleasant. Her lips had felt soft and warm, the contact neither too brief nor too long, yet there’d been no reaction in his heart, no stirring of his inner animal. Of course, the creature was subdued this time of year, content to doze through the winter, but there should have been some sign of interest. There certainly had been with Lucy.
But Lucy had made her choice. Her connection to him, to this town, hadn’t been strong enough. He’d been wise to trust his instincts, to wait and not reveal his secret to her. Now he needed to be wise again, even if he didn’t want to be. Jenna was here—on the rebound as some would say—but she was interested in him. And he was alone, as he had been for many years.
He wandered into the main part of the bar and sat on a stool, his elbows planted on the bar behind him. Through narrowed eyes he conjured up an image of Lucy, her blue eyes and beautiful smile, her figure rounded in all the right places… A smile tugged at his lips. It was almost as if she were there, alternately scolding and teasing the customers to keep them in line, sashaying from table to table with a wide smile that always guaranteed her extra tips. She’d laugh at the jokes and crack ones of her own, giving simple but solid advice if anyone asked.
If she was between men, she’d stay after hours playing darts with him or shooting pool, maybe watching late night talk shows on the big screen TV he’d installed. He’d treasured those evenings. Quiet conversation, sharing the simple and mundane. Her closeness, her attention focused on him, her lashes sweeping over her cheeks as she yawned and declared she was tired and needed to head home. How often had he held back, clenching his hands to keep from acting on his desires?
His smile faded and so did the images. That was the past. It was time to move on.
He stood up and walked to the wall where one of his paintings hung, examining the bright, saturated colours and simplified forms. While Lucy might have told him he could display whatever artwork he liked, Jenna had pointed out you had to appeal to the public, give them what they wanted. Jenna was a good business woman. Perhaps this too was something he needed to let go of.
With a sigh, he took down the painting and then proceeded to gather the others as well. There was a place in the back corner of his closet for them. Sometimes in life you had to be practical.