Chapter 56
The beetle in front of us is really cute.
I don’t know how the hell three alphas fit in it, and I’ve seen it happen for myself.
Tio Miguel had one in his shop when we were growing up that he was restoring with my cousins to be their car, and even then I didn’t know how it was going to work, but maybe they took turns.
It was his car before he was packed up and mated, so I think it was more nostalgia than anything.
I wonder if they ever got it running again.
We pull up beside it into a parking lot that’s half potholes and I’m worried for a minute that the poor little car is gonna fall into one and be lost forever, but they seem to know the place well enough to navigate around them all.
The restaurant itself reminds me of an old-style diner with big plate windows on the front and part of both sides so you can see the counter with barstools and several bench seats and tables along the sides down the glass.
It feels kitschy in a Norman Rockwell sort of way.
Moose unfolds himself from the car and hurries to the entry; a brass bell rings when he pulls it open and holds it for me.
There are a few other diners sitting around, but I don’t see any servers as I stand beside the “Please wait to be seated” sign.
A moment later, a husky voice calls from the back, “Just sit anywhere, somebody will be with you in a minute.”
It’s definitely a three pack a day kind of voice of an older woman.
Her name’s probably Maud or something like that.
If she comes out in one of those blue waitress uniforms you see on sitcoms, I’m just gonna lose my shit entirely.
This whole area feels like a small-town cliché, something you’d see on Nick-at-Night… No place is that idyllic.
This is never more obvious than a few moments later when the beta bitch from the gym comes flouncing out from the kitchen, looking pissed off and followed by an older woman with her grey hair pulled back in a severe bun.
When she speaks, it’s obvious she’s the one who told us to find a seat earlier.
“Now, no more nonsense, Hope. I promised your momma I’d go easy on you, but even I have my limits.
Go take their order and for Christ’s sake, smile.
You look like you been suckin’ on a lemon.
” We make our way towards the back while they’re arguing, and Al and I slide into a bench seat first, letting Moose and Greg fill the booth up from the outside.
Hope has her back to the older woman, whose nametag says Ginger, and she mimes speaking with a sneer and an ugly look while she’s turned away.
Not that I can see well over Greg’s shoulder, since I’m wedged into a corner, but when she looks over at our table and her eyes light on Moose, her face morphs into a sultry smile, like she wasn’t just being an evil hag.
The big guy lets out a little whimper, and his packmate shoves him out of the seat, insisting they trade places so that Moose is against the window and out of easy reach of the harpy’s claws.
She huffs a little at the change in position, and her eyes heat as they wander over to my beta.
Her face sours when she finally stands beside our table and can see me properly.
She really does look like she’s been sucking on a lemon.
I pick up the laminated sheet menu in front of me and scan it quickly, before she can ask what we want.
It’s a pretty simple menu, but I need some carbs and cheese, so that’s fine.
Moose mumbles something quietly to Al and then goes back to staring at the table.
For his part, Teach is professionally polite, despite her scowl.
“Yes, he’ll have the double bacon cheeseburger with onion rings, and a…
” He leans over to the big alpha, who mumbles again.
“A strawberry malt, please. I will have a chicken club with chips, pickle on the side please, and a Dr. Pepper, or whatever version you have on hand…I don’t see a banana split, sadly.
So I’ll have a chocolate malt as well. I’ll also need another chicken club with chips and no mayo to go.
If we could get that when we’re ready to leave, I’d appreciate it.
” He nods to Greg and me before picking up Moose’s menu and handing it over to her.
My beta does another quick scan of the menu before looking at the bigger alpha. “That sounds good, actually. I’ll have what he’s having. Oh, no lettuce on the burger please, and make mine a chocolate malt, too.” She looks between the three of them and starts to turn away, ignoring my existence.
Al clears his throat loudly, making her snap around, her face red with frustration as she glares at me pointedly.
I don’t even try to sound sweet; she’s used up all my manners with her shit attitude.
I’m not mean, just matter-of-fact. “Yeah, can I get the side of hash browns, smothered, covered, and with ham diced up on top?” I know it’s not breakfast, but that just sounded good, and the breakfast section didn’t say it was morning only, so I’ll get what I want.
I had debated on some eggs too, but right now I just want the potato and cheesy goodness.
She scoffs at me, looking down her nose like she stepped in something gross.
“This isn’t a Waffle House; if you want to make a special off-menu order, you’ll have to go somewhere else.
They have one out by the interstate. I’d say it’s kind of trashy, but, well…
you’d probably fit right in.” This time, it’s a low rumbling growl from both in front of and beside me as my beta and big alpha sync up in their anger.
It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
But not enough that I won’t say something.
I fight to make my voice sweet. “Oh, I’m sorry, I was just reading the menu right here on the back.
You know, this thing that says what you serve.
Breakfast options. Side of hash browns and topping options: fried onions, cheese, and ham?
Just…tell the cook, I’m sure they have more than two brain cells to rub together.
It’s a pretty common term, so they should know it. ”
She stutters and stammers for a minute, finally rallying to look smug. “Well, you can’t just order a side, you have to order something to have a side with. That’s not how menus work.” Gods save me from catty idiots.
Greg’s arm wraps around my shoulders, and before I can climb over my beta and throttle the skank, Al speaks up.
“If this is a problem, just add her order as my side instead of the damned chips. I don’t really care about them; I just ordered them since it came with a side.
I still want my fucking pickle though. Alright?
” She gapes like a fish a few times, mumbling about the difference between the breakfast and dinner menus, but I expected more clapback from her.
Instead, she snatches the menus left on the table, turns, and marches off.
Teach waves his hand, and I turn to see Ginger standing in the doorway she came out of earlier with her arms crossed over her chest and looking like she’s about to throttle Hope.
Maybe she’ll let me watch. The alpha’s cultured voice draws me back.
“Ginger went to school with Hope’s mom, so she feels bad firing her.
God knows she’s been let go from almost every other place in town, except the ones she refuses to ‘lower’ her standards to work at.
Jokes on her, most of them wouldn’t hire her anyway.
I don’t wish evil on anyone, but I kind of hope Ginger gets tired of her shit soon.
There aren’t a lot of places to get food around here, and the service has gone completely to shit since she started.
” Moose nods along beside him, silently agreeing.
Well, there had to be something about this town that wasn’t picturesque, so I guess it’s some of the people. Figures, assholes ruin everything.
A short time later, Ginger arrives with our plates, looking put upon. “Sorry for the wait, folks.” She passes everything around, including a side of chips for Teach and the hash browns I ordered to me. “Please let me know if y’all need anything else.”
Greg raises his hand like a schoolboy. “Actually, could we get a couple of glasses of water, for me and Sarah? Please.” The woman blinks slowly, looking around at the table for a moment before she starts grumbling loudly about petty jealous bullshit and how she didn’t sign up for this kind of crap.
She’s rubbing her eyes as if a migraine is coming on before she turns to Greg.
“I’m sorry. I’ll get four waters. Those should have been out earlier.
Please give me a moment.” I feel a burst of pity for this woman, who seems to be doing her best in the face of assholery and adversity.
Hell, I’d jump at the chance to waitress, just to actually be able to have a fucking job instead of being locked up at the center all the time.
The only work omegas are really allowed to do is online until we’re bonded to a pack, then it’s expected that we’ll settle down and have a family.
Which would also be amazing, because I want a family.
But I also want to have options. I am more than my uterus…
especially since the damned thing doesn’t even work right…
Or my ovaries don’t. Some part of my anatomy is on the fritz, and it makes my entire reproductive system janky as fuck, but all the doctors I’ve talked to are as mystified as I am.
Which blows. Still, I would love to be able to go out and get a normal job.
Greg and I both smile at her while Moose and Teach dig into their meals.
It’s only a moment later when Ginger returns, carrying four glasses full of water with ice.
We both mumble out a quick thank you as she sets them down and hurries off.
It looks like she basically runs the whole damned place, and with Hope, that’s probably the case.
I’m about halfway done with my cheesy potato goodness when Teach puts his sandwich down and looks at me.
Moose has just taken a huge bite of burger, and he starts chewing furiously, possibly in an attempt to keep the smaller alpha from talking to me.
The big dork is going to choke if he doesn’t chill the fuck out, but Teach takes a few moments, thinking intently before he speaks.
“So, you’ve known Teddy for a while. He says he was at the omega center for almost ten years, and you’ve been there the entire time.
I’m curious as to why you haven’t graduated and found a pack yet.
I’m sorry if that seems intrusive, but Spencer seems enamored with you, so I want to make sure he’s not going to get hurt. ”
That was an eloquent “fuck you for being flighty as shit” speech, but it’s nicer than what my parents say, so I can roll with it.
“Honestly, Teach, I could have had at least four different degrees at this point. I’ve taken almost all the classes they have, but I don’t want to move back home with my parents and let them set me up with a pack of their friends’ kids.
I’ve met all of those guys…they suck ass and swallow.
” Greg makes a startled choking noise beside me while the small alpha hums in response.
“Plus, if we’re being honest, a lot of the omega degrees are complete bullshit.
So I can learn cooking, cleaning, pack finance…
basically it’s a bunch of glorified home economics classes that I learned in high school.
If that’s what somebody wants to do with their life, great, I’m happy for them.
But it’s not me, I don’t know what I want to do yet.
Maybe that makes me sound like an airhead or just indecisive, I don’t care either way.
I don’t want to be saddled with a role for the rest of my life that I hate doing. ”
Greg is rubbing slow circles on my back while Moose finally finishes chewing and washing his food down with water.
He’s not saying anything, but if looks could kill, Teach would be a greasy spot on the floor.
The big guy’s attention turns to me, a look of pleading, probably for me not to judge him based on his packmate.
“Honestly guys. Nobody’s really asked me…
Well, Greg’s asked what I want to do with my life, but my family doesn’t care.
They see my mating one of their chosen packs as an inevitability.
And hell, maybe it is. But they’re gonna have to drag me kicking and screaming all the way, ’cause sitting at home popping out babies isn’t really what I plan on for myself.
Sure, kids would be nice.” Moose’s shoulders drop fractionally at that statement.
“But it’s not everything. Plus, when and if I do decide to share these awesome genetics with somebody”—I wave my hand up and down in front of my chest—“they’re going to be my fucking partners, not just sperm donors that pass in the night that need a womb and a babysitter. That shit’s just not happening.”
Teach nods a few times, and I don’t know if he’s agreeing with me, or deciding that I’m harmless enough to spend time with his pack.
He stares intently at me for a few moments, as if he’s trying to see if my long rambling monologue was the truth.
His final reply is no less confusing. “Well, I guess we’ll see. Won’t we?”