One Week Later #2
"Our parents are very traditional betas," Perrin's tone is a little flat. Like he's trying very hard to sound unaffected. "They don't believe in pack dynamics. Or partner sharing." He cracks the oven door and takes a peek at the ribs. "Or, it turns out, having sons who are essentially very gay."
Elowen stares at him. "Are you kidding me?"
"Nope," I pop a piece of bread into my mouth.
"Who the hell has issues with their kids being gay?" She makes a face that somehow manages to convey both profound confusion and complete contempt, like she's been presented with information that is not only wrong but actively stupid. "Alphas and omegas—"
"Exactly," Perrin cuts her off. "Alphas and omegas tend to be very open about sex. But betas…"
"Very few betas commit themselves to packs," I say. "And the ones that do either grew up in a pack or have families that are at least somewhat progressive about it." I reach for another piece of bread. "Our parents are not progressive people."
"Our mother once told me that therapy was for people who couldn't handle real life," Perrin says, closing the oven. "So that should give you a pretty solid picture."
Elowen looks between us, and the smile she'd been wearing is completely gone, replaced by a gentle frown. "I assume they cut you off?"
"Christmas cards stopped coming around year two," I say. "Which honestly was a relief because my mother always wrote the same thing. Hope you're well. Miss you. As if she hadn't chosen not to see us."
"Adam," Elowen says softly.
"We're fine," I quickly say, and I mean it. "We were sad for a long time, and then we were angry for a long time, and then we realized that we didn’t need that kind of hate in our lives, and now we're just." I shrug. "Done, I think.”
“You can only knock on a door so many times before you accept that nobody's coming to open it,” Perrin says, explaining my thought for me.
Elowen slides off the counter and hugs me. Hard, both arms around my middle, her face pressed into my chest. I wrap my arms around her and hug her back.
Then she crosses to Perrin and does the same thing.
My brother looks at me over the top of her head, blinking once. I swear, deep down I know he truly believes he doesn’t deserve her. It’s a shame, because as much as I love to tease Perrin, he’s one of the best men I know.
Not that I’d ever tell him that.
"For what it's worth," Elowen says into Perrin’s chest, "I think they're idiots.” She pulls back and looks between us, her dark eyes bright and slightly fierce on our behalf. "I love you both. Very much. And I plan to do it loudly and embarrassingly for the foreseeable future."
Perrin laughs, short and a little undone, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. I look at her for a long moment, this small, fierce woman standing in our kitchen, telling us she loves us like it's the simplest, most obvious thing in the world.
And it kind of is.
"What were they like?" I ask. "Your parents…if you don’t mind talking about them.”
“Of course not.” Elowen smiles, like she’s pleasantly surprised I asked. "Hang on," she says as she slips off the barstool and disappears into the living room.
I hear her pick something up off the coffee table, and then she's back with the warped notebook in her hand. She opens the back cover and slides her fingers into the inside flap, pulling out a small photograph.
She sets it on the counter between me and Perrin.
It's a photo of two people standing behind a pharmacy counter.
The woman has a vibrant smile, her dark hair threaded with silver, reading glasses pushed up on her forehead.
The man beside her has his arm around her shoulders, and he's smiling at Elowen’s mom with a look of pure adoration on his face.
Perrin looks at the photo for a long moment.
"They look like you," he says quietly.
"My mom especially," Elowen says. She looks at the photo herself for a second, her thumb moving slightly over the corner. "She was funny. And fiery. My dad was the patient one." She lets out a happy sigh. "The whole town loved him. He couldn't ignore a knock at the door, even at closing time."
She says that last part lightly, but I see something tight pull around her eyes.
"They sound wonderful," I say.
"They really were," she says simply.
The oven timer goes off, and Perrin turns back to get the food. I steal another piece of bread, as Elowen tucks the picture of her parents back into the notebook.
The kitchen fills with the smell of Odette's cooking, and for a few minutes everything is warm and easy.
We eat, and talk about our alphas. I share how Cliff was an underground boxer when we first met, and how Raff once got stuck in the car crusher at the shop and almost died.
Elowen's fork stops halfway to her mouth. "He got stuck in it? Like he couldn't get out?”
"Yup," I confirm, loading up my fork. "He jumped inside to clear out some debris that got stuck in one of the compression plates. His watch got hung, and we couldn't reach it to break it.”
"We had to call the fire department.” Perrin snorts. “Three trucks showed up. It was a whole thing."
Elowen stares at me. "Was he okay?"
"He was fine," I say. "Not a scratch on him." I lean in and whisper, “I got a few pictures of two firefighters trying to lube up his whole forearm.”
Elowen’s eyes go wide, and she makes me promise to show them to her.
“A few news trucks even showed up.” Perrin takes another bite, “but sadly he didn’t make it on TV.” He pretends to frown. “That was the worst part.”
Elowen laughs, and everything feels so warm and happy. Sitting in the kitchen, eating the best food on the planet with my brother and Elle just feels good.
But then, the doorbell rings.