Chapter 5 Lucien #2
The three of us settled into the cheap plastic deck chairs John Smith had left behind. Blanketed in a thick silence, save for our muted chewing and the clink of beer bottles.
“Is this fucking weird for you two as well?” Mercer asked bluntly.
The break of tension released the pressure like a joint crack. It was weird. We shouldn’t tiptoe around it. Being back was like unearthing an unwanted time capsule.
“Thank fuck,” Jae exhaled. “I thought it was just me. I keep expecting to hear them arguing every time I come out of my room.”
Mercer slapped his hand on his armrest. “Right? I swear I’m going to run into my dad again every time I step into the hall.”
Pretty sure that if Greg materialized all three of us would not hesitate to punch him squarely in the face.
Fucking Greg . Mom’s third supposed scent match.
I was now highly suspicious of anyone claiming to be head-over-heels from a single whiff.
Instead of making the pack better, he poisoned it.
Encouraged the festering discontent Mom had with Starlight Grove like a serpent in her ear.
“You haven’t heard from him, have you?” Jae asked.
“No way.” Mercer’s face twisted into a grimace. “Blocked him years ago.”
It was definitely much easier to hate the man who took away Mom than to confront the fact that she chose to leave us all.
The same mom who built pillow forts in the living room, like a makeshift nest, cuddling us and reading books.
Held us close when we were afraid to sleep, made us believe we were capable of anything.
Her scent used to be such a comfort.
Despite the upsetting turn of conversation, there was relief in allowing ourselves to acknowledge it. Just for a moment. No one got it like these guys did.
“The town feels the same, though,” I observed. Tight-knit, ninety percent wholesome and ten percent kooky. “Except that the mayor is a cat now.”
“What?”
“I didn’t ask.”
“Why would you not ask? How could you not ask?” Mercer asked incredulously. I took a long drink, having no good answers for him. I suspected Summer introduced me and I shook his paw would only invite more questions.
Jae leaned back easily, one arm slung over the back of his chair. “Did you guys see all the festival flyers? We have to go to the Fourth of July picnic for old time’s sake. I want to explore some more tomorrow, maybe wander down Main Street again.”
Mercer finished his beer. “And go see the omega you had a crush on in high school?” he guessed.
“Why not?” Jae retorted. “Her cakes are better than your pastries.”
“You’re so full of shit.”
“Am not. I’ve tried both so I would know.” Jae loaded up a piece of flatbread with dip and wedged the entire thing in his mouth. “These are really good by the way.”
“You know what else would be really good?” Mercer said dangerously. “If you shoved them right up your—”
“Okay!” I cut in hastily. “Let’s all agree that taste is very subjective.”
“Fine.”
“Whatever.”
Jae got Mercer another beer while he offered Jae more bread like nothing happened.
But my stomach was churning. How did I not make the connection between Summer and Jae?
In that last year before we left, it had gotten so bad at home that he spent as much time as possible at the library.
Seeing him withdraw only made me feel like I was falling short and not doing better.
Summer gave him what I couldn’t. A sanctuary.
I tried to forget her scent and the way my palm fit in the small of her back.
“We should call our dads,” I said, quickly switching the subject. “They’ve been wanting to know how we’re settling in.”
I started a video call, knowing they would want to see our faces. Papa answered almost immediately, his chin filling eighty percent of my screen. A slight jostle and Appa’s eyeball appeared.
“Lucien? Is that you?” Appa’s cheekbone demanded.
“Uh, move back a bit, please.”
My dads eventually managed to sort themselves out.
I had a cinematic view of their nostrils but at least I could see and hear them both.
Their heads were close, Papa with his rumpled gray hair and his arm slung around Appa’s shoulders.
Seeing their easy affection was always a comfort.
Despite everything they had gone through, their love for each other remained resilient.
“Are you boys settled in?” Appa asked.
“How bad is it?” Papa interrupted. “No sugarcoating, Lucien.”
Papa was a retired handyman and mildly anxious about passing the renovation torch to his three sons. Which was fair since none of us had followed in his footsteps. But he did let us hammer stuff as kids when no one else was looking, which was nearly the same thing.
“It’s fine. Really,” I assured him. “Painting, landscaping, updating cabinetry and fixtures will go a long way. It’s nothing we can’t handle. We’ll get professionals to install the bigger upgrades.”
“Speaking of which,” Mercer nudged himself forward, taking over the screen. “We shouldn’t go low to mid-range for the kitchen. I mean, it’s the heart of the house. You’ll get a better price with high-end appliances.”
Mercer’s predilection for shiny German stoves was showing.
“I don’t think it really matters.” Jae shrugged and Mercer tried to drill a hole into his skull with his eyeballs.
“We can look into it, Mercer,” Appa said, ever the peacemaker. “You might be onto something there, and maybe there’s some things I can move around in the budget.”
He’d had a soft spot for Mercer from the moment that sullen little face stuck out from behind Greg’s leg. I think one of the things I hated most about what happened to our pack was the way it hurt Appa. He tried so hard to make our patchwork pack family work to give Mom what she wanted.
Mercer shook his head. “I can pay the difference, Appa. I want to.”
He was in the position to offer that. We all were. Our dads never asked us for financial help, but it was awful hearing about their savings slowly draining into lawyers’ pockets over the years. We could finally do something about it.
The lines on Appa’s forehead deepened. “Are you sure you’re all okay with doing this?” he asked, his gentle voice whispery. “There’s no need for you to be back there. We can still hire a company instead.”
This house held so much heartache within its walls.
The betrayal and breakdown of a pack. Losing their omega.
It was no wonder they had to relocate us to Boston, where Papa had family they could lean on.
They applied bond-numbing cream to the bite mark scars for months.
Buttoned up collars no matter the season, and donned brave faces.
I was happy to do this for them and close this chapter of their life.
“Of course we can do this,” I said firmly. “Papa, I’ll send you the renovation schedule tomorrow for you to look over.”
“I promise to change no more than fifty percent of it.”
Appa covered Papa’s mouth with his hand. “He will approve it without question because we trust you.”
“I’m not agreeing to that.” His muffled voice insisted.
“Don’t worry about us, Papa,” Jae said. “We’re all ready to make this house look new again.”
Agreed. The less it resembled the one in our past, the better.