Page 71 of Full Moon Frenzy

She was unable to heed the direction that no one needed to help clean up. That wasn’t something that was done. Her new best friend Vanessa was deep in conversation with Trapp’s father, while the other two women clustered at the end of the table, and she couldn’t just sit there. Her Aunt Rita would have given her a smack if she’d have tried that at home, and she couldn’t do so now.

Several of the brothers had moved into the big room beyond the dining room, Trapp included. She left his side to use the restroom, and on her way back, she couldn’t help but stop at the long table, collecting some of the empty glasses, moving beyond the marble-topped island through the kitchen doorway to find a sink.

“Sweetheart, you don’t need to do that.”

She turned, heart thumping, alone with his mother for the first time since that day she’d accosted her on the sidewalk. Everything about her was still pristine, intentional, put-together and intimidating. Trapp claimed his mother would love her, but then again, Trapp was a spoiled rich kid from this town who’d grown up eating off a silver spoon. Adriana knew better. Especially since she knew where his mother was from. Especially after her next words.

“I could never have imagined that your next iteration would be fucking my favorite son.”

Adriana’s mouth fell open, her voice gone, lungs hitching. Heat flooded her face, and she knew she was as red as a tomato. “I . . . I mean, we . . .”

“Although, I shouldn’t be,” she went on. “Trapp is the most like me. An impulsive hothead. And he makes a pretty good scallopini.” She smiled then, a genuine, warm smile as she contemplated her son. “He was always the most feral of all my boys. And like is drawn to like.” Her eyes rose to Adriana.

Say something! She willed her voice to come out of hiding, even as her coyote flattened low, whimpering. Another predator. “I-I don’t think you’re supposed to have favorites.”

His mother burst out laughing, and the sound was achingly familiar. That immediate code switch again, defenses dropping. “Yeah, well, that’s probably true. And I love them all equally. But he’s the one who taught me how to be a mother.”

She pulled open the dishwasher Adriana would have never found, hidden as it was by the cupboard facings. She handed his mother the glasses one by one, silent teamwork.

“It’s funny,” Sandi said suddenly, hesitating, as though she were debating whether or not to continue. “I told the rest of them they didn’t need to do this in the beginning, too. And they took me at my word.”

At that, she laughed. “I could feel the phantom twist of my ear just thinking about it,” Adriana confessed. “It was hard enough coming empty-handed, but he insisted.”

His mother laughed again. The air felt warmer after that. “You’ve known him since school? I’ll warn you now, he’s a different person from who you met all those years ago. Sometimes, I worry about him. He’s got the biggest heart I’ve ever known, but he doesn’t let people in easily.”

“He has an ugly job,” Adriana offered. “So did I. It’s hard to bring that home. So, I understand that part of him at least.”

The glasses disappeared, one by one, and Adriana made a second trip.

“Did you have a safe turn? There was a coyote pack not far from us, growing up. Gravanis . . . You know, I have no idea what they did for the turn. They may as well have been human.”

She laughed again. “That’s not surprising. We stay low. It’s not safe for us during the turn. Especially around wolves.” She sucked in a sharp breath when his mother lifted her hand, reaching out to tuck a dark strand of hair behind Adriana’s ear.

“You’re part of a different sort of pack, now, sweetheart. There’s safety in that. You’ll see.”

* * *

Her heats were becoming a problem.

Heats for which she had no compass of experience to guide her. She felt foolish even admitting it. It was one thing to have uncontrolled heats as a teenager, as a university student. At almost forty years old, it was humiliating to admit that she was falling apart because of her hormones, because of what Trapp and his smell were doing to her, a little worse with each month that passed.

It was almost alarming how easily they settled into a routine — and worse yet, how natural it felt. She was alone for those forty-eight hours of his shift, and then again most of the third day, when he slept. Alone was what she was used to, and the time was well-spent.

She was going room-by-room in her townhouse, buying silly little things that had no practical purpose other than making her inexplicably happy. A mirror in a gilt-edged frame of unicorns and squirrels for the long entryway. An oil painting portrait of a fox dressed as a general, and another of a kitten in a towering powdered wig. She found a medallion-style rug patterned with beautiful luna moths to sit in front of her sofa, and added to her plant collection, delighting the beetle sisters with her choices. She found a tiny clock tower attached to a little wooden bridge that sat at the edge of her desk, little streetlamps that fit neatly between the books on her shelf, making the whole wall glow, and a beautiful stained-glass lamp in watery greens and rich purples for the side table.

None of it was necessary. None of the items had any true value other than making her happy. Her mother would’ve disapproved heartily, and she herself would likely have disapproved of the unnecessary discretionary spending just a few months prior, but she was making this place a real home, and maybe healing her inner child a bit at the same time.

“It’s starting to feel like a storybook in here,” Trapp murmured into her neck the night he came over, the first night of his ninety-six hours off, once he’d gone home to sleep for most of the day. “I like it.”

On the nights they spent together, he slept in her townhouse when his nights off coincided with her days at the clinic. They cooked together in her kitchen, stretched out on her sofa, made love in her bed. He did most of the cooking, installed the awning she’d purchased for her patio, and always used a coaster. He bought her a beautiful telescope in a casing of midnight blue, etched in tiny gold stars, which Adriana was excited to take up to the roof, and was only slightly disappointed to learn he planned to put it in her living room window to spy on the neighbor across the street.

“Oh, but I’m the schemer? You’re so full of shit.”

Trapp had only laughed. “You should definitely make friends with him, because he’s not someone you want to snub, but don’t ever, ever trust him. About anything. Ever.”

“Yeah, that seems to be a common refrain, isn’t it?” she muttered darkly. Her sangria confessions to the cat and moth women she’d assumed would be friends had not been kept in the confidence she’d expected, and it didn’t take long until she was agreeing with Trapp’s chaotic younger brother — fuck those sheep. She was still friendly with both Muffy and Avrille, but now she knew to guard her tongue, which didn’t feel like friendship at all.

Trapp’s youngest brother had confirmed that medical school at Mercy was entirely digital these days. Emailed PDFs, zip files of pharmacology, and a flashcard app.