Chapter 1 #3
"Oh, it's your eyes. Just like your sister and her mate.
Your species' chromatophores really are quite stunning in both forms." Her smile turns sheepish as she gestures toward her own eyes.
"I'm not flirting, and it's not just you.
Every octopus shifter I've met seems to do it, some more than others. Even when you aren’t partially shifted, your chromatophores turn your eyes bluer when you've overdone it.”
“How can you see chromatophores if I’m not shifted?” I gawk at her.
“Avian sight, I got my orca from the maternal line, but my father was an eagle shifter. While I don’t share his feathered form, I've got a bit of his bird sight when I focus on it.
We can see the UV spectrum. It's more subtle than in your octopus skins, but the chromatophores are there for those who can see them, especially around the eyes.
As for understanding what they say, I've been around long enough to notice the patterns.
Tell your sister I have positive news about her grant proposal for her tomorrow? "
"Yeah. I'll tell her." I nod like a bobblehead.
"Good.” She smiles warmly at me. “If you're sure you're alright, I should get back to showing the donors the new Indigenous art walk we added over the summer and how popular the interactive stations with Abenaki terms have been so they'll renew the funding for more Abenaki translations.
If that means appealing to their egos, then so be it.
" She grimaces as she turns toward the aquarium. "Wish me luck."
"Good luck. I'll see you, doc." I scuttle out of there in the opposite direction she left.
I don't envy her task, schmoozing with the donors in the least. I'm so preoccupied with getting away from any proximity to the board that I don't quite realize getting away from her means I leave the aquarium portion of the building through labs.
I text True and Lincoln as I stroll past labs full of equipment and static animal specimens. At this hour, the halls aren't too busy with bustling research assistants and lab techs in their white coats.
Me: Hey, I almost had to fish a static kid out of the touch tank so I'm headed out early.
Still taking the kids to the pool for a bit to burn off some energy before we grab dinner, just getting there a bit earlier than planned.
With any luck all four of them will be sleeping in their own beds when you two get home from your date night.
I don't wait for a reply. Trudy and her mate might not see my message right away, but I'm on the daycare's approved pick up list for all four of my nieces and nephews.
Sometimes, on days we don't have work or school, it feels like I'm still their live-in nanny.
To be fair, other than the kids going to daycare while I'm at work now, not much has changed.
Which is fine. Mostly. I think the kids defaulting to coming to me for help bothers Trudy more than it does me. We're used to our routines, but she's always going to be their mom, not me. Still, I'm ready to have a little less daily chaos in my life.
Much as I adore kids in general, and my sister's brood in particular, being primarily responsible for four shifter kids under four for the past few years was a hell of a lot to handle.
Now that Trip is almost six and Willem is fully potty trained at four, and the girls, twin two-and-a-half year olds, are able to communicate more clearly, it's easier. Still not easy though.
Teaching preschoolers is less stressful in most ways; not the least because when I clock out my precious shifter cherubs go back to being their parents' problems. So, as much as I adore Trip, Willem, Nadine, and Marina, I'm counting every penny toward the goal of moving out.
It's past time to have more independence. My interaction with Dr. Neptune is a weird reminder of another benefit of having my own space. I might not have a crush on my sister’s boss, but I’m drawn to that combination of authority and warmth she exuded.
It calls to me like the sweet scent of shrimp luring my octopus.
As it stands, I can’t invite a date home without having to explain all the kids’ toys.
Not to mention the pile of emotional baggage that far exceeds the physical suitcase I left home with when Trudy took me in after high school.
As grateful as I am for her, some days, it feels like I'm living in the shadow of my sister's happy ever after. I don't want what she has, but I don't want to be the live-in help forever either.
Blah. That's depressing. It's not that I want a break from the kids.
I know I'll miss them when I no longer see them for most meals and help with daily bedtime routines, and take the occasional turn at chasing away bad dreams. It's just that I need some room to build my own life. I want... I don’t even know exactly what I want, just that there’s a restless need driving me.
With my career on track, I finally feel stable enough to dream of more.
The mental image of Neptune calling my eyes striking flashes into my brain.
Ugh. I don't have a thing for my sister's boss, but the way she told me what to do with her authority settling over me like a mantle is temptingly close to what I do want.
I long to explore those urges that hit me sometimes.
The ones where I wonder what it would be like to trust someone with all of myself.
A powerful woman who wants to take charge of me and take care of me so thoroughly it doesn't even occur to me to question it.
Someone who makes me feel secure enough to entrust myself to her.
I shudder at the thought of being that vulnerable with anyone.
That's the type of love I want and fear in equal measure.
I glance around self-consciously, but no one seems to be paying me any attention as they wrap up their work for the day.
Most of the people I do see are absorbed with their computers, or clipboards covered in notes about their research or weird devices I can't name, let alone tell what they do.
Good. I'm probably not broadcasting my horny thoughts to every shifter with the senses to notice then.
Still, I tamp down those fantasies for later.
When I'm alone in my room, far from other shifter's keen senses.
Best not to think about that too much regardless.
True used to take scent blockers when she started working here.
The touch tank has a separate area for tasty crustacean shifters so my octopus side won't make any terrible life choices about eating a co-worker.
Speaking of which, I smell shrimp. My octopus stirs hungrily, but I remind her this particular shrimp is more likely to be one of our co-workers or a lab specimen than a late lunch.
Blah. Apparently I need a distraction from all of my appetites.
Lucky for me, the school break means the Four Corners community center is having extra open swim sessions.
That's one activity all four of the kiddos always enjoy, and I love a chance to share time with them in our octopus forms. The pool is a fancy, shifter-friendly, salt water setup instead of chlorine.
It's entirely unremarkable for kids to shift at will while they splash in the shallows.
The aquarium and the local zoo where a lot of our fellow shifters work helped fund the new pool and it's one of my favorite places to go with the kids, so I'm trying to focus on being excited to have more time than expected in the water with them today instead of the stress of the acidic burn I can still feel in my wrist from the incident that made me leave early.
The kids always remind me to put aside my worries and be present in the moment.
It's one of my favorite parts of spending time with them.
I already feel more grounded as soon as I step into the daycare foyer.
This is the sort of place I belong. Not labs or being the face of shifters for the static world.
Here. I fit in surrounded in the comforting cacophony of shifter kids running riot, switching fluidly between forms as they play and learn.
I spot Nadine up to her eyeballs in a water table, little arms waving in the air as she pretends--tides, I hope she's pretending--to menace a boat that another toddler is steering toward her. She's a vibrant electric blue, so I'm pretty sure that she's having a good time anyway.
Marina is in human mode, except for the extra pair of octopus arms she allowed out in the sort of partial shift that comes so much more naturally for kids. I'm an oddball for still clinging to partial shifts when I'm emotional.
One of the attendants is already tapping Marina’s shoulder to gently remind her about the rules.
Partial shifts can expose kids to risks if they don't learn control, so we usually discourage the impulse.
Marina's skin pulses a sulky rose-red before she shifts to her fully human form and turns away from the water table with a pout and a stomp of her little foot.
“Aunt Gilly!” Marina sees me and squeals my name, her pique forgotten in a swirl of greeting teal and lavender.
She pokes her twin sister, shouting that auntie is here.
Nadine mirrors the same happy hues of greeting and abandons the ship sinking game without a backward glance at her playmate.
She curls several long arms around Marina's wrist, and climbs up to perch on her sister's shoulder, still in octopus form.
Marina bolts toward me with Nadine clinging to her.
Nadine burbles gleefully as she clings tight, one arm splayed over Marina's face, neck and arm to help her balance.
Good thing Marina isn't the one who can't stand damp clothes.
That's Willem. I hug the girls when they're allowed out of the play area.
By the time I help both of them gather their things and get into dry clothes, and convince Nadine to shift back into human form for safety in the car, the boys' teacher have brought them both down from their respective groups with the other older kids.
All four of my sister's kids are talking over each other about the pool, ready to pull me into their beautiful chaos for the next few hours.
Much as I savor every moment, I also firm my resolve that this can't be the only part of my life.
I'm going to stick with the touch tank gig, much as I don't want to go back.
At least for the next few weeks. Every bit helps for planning my big move. Eyes on the prize.