26. Relegated to the Floor
Bailey
Dinner promises to be delicious, if a bit of an experience. Yvette makes the entire meal from items she foraged from the forest. Moss, mushrooms, seeds, pine needles that she arranges into dishes, while instructing me which things to chop, mash, or combine. Finally, she declares that it is dinner time, piles several things onto a plate, and places it in front of me, which Sacha promptly removes from the table.
“Some of this isn’t exactly edible to humans,” he whispers into my ear, swapping my plate for one he fixed for me.
“Is your mom trying to poison me?” I tease in a whisper. “I thought she liked me?”
“You wouldn’t die,” he winks, “just be in gastrointestinal pain for the evening. She doesn’t entirely understand the human digestive system.” He hands me a knife and fork, just as his parents begin eating with their hands, scraping their fingers across their plates and directly into their mouths.
I glance at Sacha, he seems chagrined by their behavior. In a split-second decision I decide to set down the silverware and copy his parents’ behavior. Sacha watches me quietly for a long moment, before his hand finds my knee under the table and he gives it a firm squeeze.
“It’s good,” I tell Yvette.
“Would have been better if there was elk on the table,” Abe grumbles.
“Then our lovely human wouldn’t have been able to eat until midnight,” Yvette scolds, but Abe grins and leans over to kiss her on the lips. Yvette breaks into a smile.
They may bicker, but they are still clearly madly in love. It’s nice to see the family that Sacha grew up with. It’s nothing like my own origin story, but I feel like I know him better after meeting his parents.
After dinner, Sacha begins arranging pillows and blankets on the couch.
“What are you doing?” Yvette asks.
“I’m sleeping on the couch,” Sacha says.
“Nonsense!” his mom bellows. “You two have to share a bed.”
“Mom, we don’t—human parents usually don’t want their children sharing a bed under the same roof.” He glances in my direction and I realize his real reason is he thinks I would object.
“You are grown adults! You don’t need to be uncomfortable just for humanities’ sake.” Yvette shakes her head.
“We live miles from civilization because we refuse to be civilized!” his dad agrees. “Get in there and sleep in your bed with your mate!”
Sacha cringes. “We aren’t?—”
“Sacha, come sleep with me.” I reach for his hand, it’s clear that his parents think this relationship is in a more serious and stable place than we actually are. I don’t have the heart to disappoint them, and I wouldn’t actually mind sharing that big empty bed.
Sacha meets my gaze, and something changes in his eyes. “If you’re sure?”
I squeeze his hand and tug him into the bedroom with me. He drops my grip the moment we are alone. The lack of touch makes me a little sad. He leans against the closed door, leveling a long sigh.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.
“What for?”
“I didn’t know my parents would be here. I know that’s a big step. I—” he takes a deep breath before continuing, “I don’t want them to put more pressure on you, if you aren’t ready for this.”
“Your parents are great!” I almost laugh. “Certainly a surprise, but they’ve been really nice.”
“Do you like them better than me?”
“Maybe?” I tease.
His whole face lights up with his easy smile. Shit, I don’t mind sharing a bedroom with him at all.
“Turn around.” I order. “I need to change into my pajamas.”
He grumbles, but turns his back and begins tossing a pillow onto the ground and pulling the blanket from the end of the bed.
“What are you doing?” I ask once my head is through the neck-hole of my night shirt.
“Doing the gentlemanly thing and sleeping on the floor,” He says, as though it’s obvious.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve been inside me. We’re adults. Just sleep in the bed with me.”
“Are you sure you will be able to keep your hands off of me?” He smirks.
I roll my eyes. “You’re right, I won’t be able to stop myself from physically mauling you. You’re better off safely on the floor!” I shove past him and climb under the covers.
“No, no, no. It’s too late. You said I could be here.” He leaps into the bed beside me.
I don’t protest, but I do turn my back to him with a loud sigh.
The mattress beside me depresses as he stretches out, getting comfortable with the covers and pillows. He isn’t even touching me, but I can tell exactly where he’s laying. Without even looking at him, I feel like I could count the inches between our bodies. The closeness has my whole body awake and thinking of things I would rather be doing than sleeping.
Sacha’s parents are just one wall away, and I know with that impressive Bigfoot hearing, they would know everything we were doing. I’m trapped, wide awake, staring at the wall.
“What did you all do to pass the time in the evenings when you were younger?” I ask, clutching my blankets a little tighter to my chest, determined not to roll over and touch him. “You didn’t have a TV out here, did you?”
His hair rustles against his pillow as Sacha shakes his head. “We played games, we sat around the fire and did crafts. Sometimes Dad would read out loud to us. They don’t appreciate large parts of human society, but they’ve always loved human literature.”
“That’s really cute.” I picture him tiny and curled up under the blankets with his parents.
“I think a lot of those books were the reason I was so determined to join human society.”
“You seem really close. How often do you talk to them now?”
He shifts behind me, so his voice is angled toward me. “We only see each other a few times a year, but I talk to them almost every week.”
“I like that,” I say. “I wish I had family that close.”
“You don’t talk to your parents?” Sacha asks.
He must sense I’m uncomfortable because one of his hands strokes along my arm.
“You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.” His voice is gentle and understanding, which only makes me want to talk more.
“My parents had me really young, probably too young. My dad was in and out of my life, and rehab, until I was around twelve. Then he disappeared pretty completely. I hear from him every now and then. He’s been in prison the past six months, so phone calls have increased. My mom was the one who really raised me, mostly by herself. I could always tell she sort of resented me. Dad wrecked the picket fence life that she always dreamed of for herself. I think I reminded her of him.” I pause to take a ragged breath, glad that I’m not looking at Sacha’s face while I talk. He moves closer until his nose tickles the back of my hair.
“Take your time, Beast.” His thumb traces a little pattern over my arm, and his odd nickname settles my stomach for some reason. I lean back into his warm body.
“This isn’t a story that I tell a lot of people,” I admit, “I got accepted to college, no scholarships, but I was so happy to go. It was great. I was having a wonderful time. I spent a lot of my breaks with friends, and when I went home for summer, my mom had found a man to live with. She was pregnant, they’d moved in together, they were freaking engaged. She hadn’t told me about any of it. Their new house didn’t even have a bedroom for me. I spent that summer couch surfing with friends. My mom texted me a lot, said she wished we could spend more time together, but she never actually made time for me.”
When my voice cracks I stop speaking. Sacha doesn’t say anything, but his hand sneaks around my waist to give me a comforting squeeze.
“I found out about my baby sister, and my mom’s wedding from social media posts. She didn’t even invite me to the wedding. I’m not even sure her new husband actually knows who I am to her. All it took was me going to college, just an hour’s drive away, and she started a new life as soon as I was out of hers.”
Sacha presses a gentle kiss to my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Beast. You didn’t deserve any of that.”
I groan as my tears start to fall. “I’ve been on my own since then. We’re basically no-contact now. I haven’t seen her in a few years, I don’t get invited to family events, and I only met my baby sister once. She had another child after that. I’m not even sure where she lives now. I still follow her on Instagram, but she doesn’t post as much as she used to.”
“Beast, that’s terrible.”
“But I think she’s happy. I guess. I hope she’s happy. Is that weird to say?”
“I hate what she did to you, but I understand why you still want the best for her. You’re a kind and generous person.”
“It’s just, she’s still my mom you know?”
”I know, my sweet Beast.”
“I think that’s why I like helping animals so much. Fostering kittens to make sure they are cared for, to make sure they find the right homes in this world.” I am having a hard time speaking above a whisper. “And sometimes it’s hard to trust people. When they say they care about me.” He sucks in a long breath that glances past my ear and scoots himself a little closer.
“I do care about you, my Beast. That isn’t going away.” He pulls me tighter into his arms, his hands circling my waist under the blanket. He stays there, holding me, until the tears stop falling. Safe and comfortable, I fall asleep in his arms while my pillow is still wet with tears.