Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
HAWTHORN
The town hall was already packed when we arrived.
Monthly community meetings weren't mandatory, but most of Ridgedale showed up anyway.
It was how news got shared, decisions were made, and the way the town stayed connected.
I'd been coming for ten years and usually sat in the back, left early, and avoided socializing afterward. My wolf didn’t care for large crowds so he hunkered down and slept.
But tonight was different. Zale's hand was warm in mine and we had news to share.
"You're sure about this?" I asked as we paused outside. "It's still early. We could wait a few more weeks."
"I'm sure." He squeezed my hand. "They're our family now, and I want them to know."
The words “our family” had a quiet warmth settling around my heart.
We walked in together and the room quieted.
That wasn’t unusual because people always noticed when someone arrived.
But tonight was different. Maybe it was the way Mrs. Trent's eyes lit up when she saw us.
Or how Benjamin nudged Marg and whispered something.
Or the knowing smile on half a dozen faces.
In small towns, everyone always knew more than you thought they did.
"Hawthorn! Zale!" Adrian Read, our mayor, called from the front. "Glad you could make it. Find a seat because we're about to start."
We settled into chairs near the middle. The usual business began and the mayor rattled off details about upcoming road repairs, the summer festival planning committee, and a proposal for new streetlights on Main Street.
I only half-listened. My attention kept drifting to Zale beside me and the barely-there curve of his stomach that only I could see.
My mate was carrying our pup and I had to hold back tears so no one would ask me why I was crying.
"Any other business?" the mayor asked after forty minutes of discussion.
This was it. The moment where people shared personal news such as engagements, new businesses, family visiting, or anything the townspeople might want to know.
Zale looked at me and raised a brow. I nodded and stood up. Every head in the room turned to look at me.
"I have something to share." My voice came out steady, despite the churning in my belly.
"Go on." The mayor waved his hand, encouraging me to stand up.
I pulled my mate to his feet beside me and gripped his hand.
"Zale and I—" I paused, looking around the room at the familiar faces. These were people I'd been feeding for a decade and who'd watched me work non-stop. There were some who pushed me to go after Zale when I'd been too scared. "We're going to have a baby."
For a heartbeat, there was silence before the room erupted.
Mrs. Trent let out a shriek of joy. People started clapping and others were openly crying while the major was beaming. People surged forward, surrounding us with congratulations and hugs.
"I knew it!" Mrs. Trent grabbed Zale and pulled him into a fierce hug. "I saw you making all those teddy bear cookies and I thought, that boy is nesting."
"How far along are you?” someone asked.
"About six weeks," my mate replied. A soft flush spread over his cheeks.
"That's wonderful! Congratulations!"
"When are you due?"
"Have you thought about names?"
"Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"
The questions came fast and I glanced at my mate, hoping being the center of attention wasn’t overwhelming him. This was different from his family's cold formality. We were around people who cared about him and us.
"Everyone, let them breathe!" Adrian laughed. "They probably don't have all the answers yet."
The crowd eased back a little but people kept coming up to shake my hand and to hug Zale.
"My daughter has baby clothes her kids outgrew," one woman told us. "I'll bring them to the bakery."
"I'm knitting a blanket," Mrs. Trent announced. "It'll be done before the baby comes."
"I've got a crib in my attic." Benjamin pulled up a pic on his phone. "It's solid wood. My kids used it but you're welcome to it."
"We can throw you a shower!" Mrs. Axley was practically bouncing. "Oh, this is so exciting!"
The offers kept coming. Help, gifts, advice, support. It was overwhelming in the best possible way.
After the meeting officially ended, people lingered.
The potluck spread that always followed meetings became an impromptu celebration.
Someone brought out sparkling cider for Zale.
People kept coming up to us with stories about their own children and grandchildren, and we were given parenting advice that was both helpful and not.
"Sleep now while you still can." One man put his head close to mine.
"Don't listen to the books. Trust your instincts," a regular bakery customer advised.
"Make sure you have a good pediatrician lined up early."
"The first few weeks are brutal but it gets better."
"Enjoy every moment. They grow up so fast."
I listened to all of it, storing away the advice and was touched by how much everyone cared.
“Was it the right decision to tell everyone?" I pulled my mate aside from the throng of people around us.
"It absolutely was." He slung an arm around my waist. "I feel so welcomed."
"You two are going to be wonderful parents," Adrian told me after Zale was surrounded by a group of omegas discussing morning sickness.
"This town watched you take over the bakery, Hawthorn, and make it your own.
We're so glad you finally found someone.
" He grinned. "Your grandmother would be so proud. "
The mention of my grandmother had me wiping away tears and dredging up memories. "Thank you."
"We'll be here for you. That's what the community's for.”
I nodded because I didn’t trust my voice not to crack.
Across the room, my mate caught my eye and smiled. We were building a family. And we weren't doing it alone.
Eventually, people started heading home. But not before Mrs. Trent pressed a bag of homemade baby booties into Zale's hands. She told us she’d made them last week just in case. Benjamin forwarded us crib photos, and at least six people promised to drop off various baby items at the bakery.
We walked home hand in hand through the quiet streets. The bakery lights were off but framing the windows were fairy lights my mate had put up at Christmas, insisting they stay there all year.
"People are so sweet. And to think when I got off the bus on my first day, I thought it was a place to pass through or to stay a while until I gathered my thoughts."
"I hope you were okay with all the attention. The community can come on a bit too strong sometimes."
"No. They were amazing." His eyes crinkled at the corners and he snuggled up to me. "I never had that growing up. Now I have people being happy and excited about my life."
"You absolutely do.”
"We do," he corrected me and pressed a hand to his stomach. "All three of us."
I pulled him close and kissed him on the sidewalk under the streetlights, hoping my kiss expressed the gratitude and love I couldn’t put into words.
When we finally pulled apart, I rested my forehead against his. "I love you."
"I love you too." He grinned. "And I think our pup is very lucky because they have people who love them before they're born."
"Yeah." I thought about all the offers of help and support.
We climbed the stairs to our apartment and placed the bag of baby booties on the kitchen counter. It was evidence that this wasn't just something we were thinking about. It was happening in seven months, give or take, and we’d be parents with a pup.
"I have a confession." Zale climbed into bed beside me. “I’m worried I won’t be a great dad because I didn’t have good examples growing up."
Pulling him close, I rested my chin on his head. "I’ve seen you with the kids who come into the bakery and how you charm them and make them feel special by remembering something they told you on their last visit."
"That’s easy and being a parent is challenging."
"But we’ll be doing it together. The sleepless nights, dirty diapers, the terrible twos and the teenage rebellion years. I’ll be at your side and when we’ve had a bad day, we can sit in bed and eat cupcakes with lashings of frosting or teddy bear cookies."
My mate groaned at the mention of the cookies. Though we sold some in the bakery, we’d donated the rest.
"Maybe we can enlist some of the neighbors to babysit." Zale yawned and pulled the covers up to his chin.
"They’ll be lining up. We’ll probably have to create a schedule and people will fight over whose turn it is to look after our little one." I turned off the lamp and we spooned. "My grandmother used to look after the kids next door and they’d help her in the bakery."
"I wish I’d met her”
"She would have loved you and she’d have been content seeing me happy and knowing her legacy was continuing with the next generation."