2. TWO
TWO
Bastien
The place looks lonely with half the rooms empty. I don’t like it, but I can’t do much about it right now. The furniture company said the stuff I ordered won’t be delivered until well after Christmas. Besides, it doesn’t matter. I’ll never be able to get my childhood home back.
It was stupid even thinking I could when I bought the place.
With a sigh I wrench open the fridge door and pull out a beer, popping open the cap with a thumb and letting it spin on the bare kitchen counter while I take a long drink.
I set it down and lean an elbow on the cool marble and look out over the open-plan living area, trying not to think about afternoons sitting at the big wooden table that used to take up half the space, chewing on the end of my pencil while I tried to work out my math homework. Big fat waste of everyone’s time.
I grin when I remember the particular pattern of knocks Riley used to make at the back door when he wanted me to come out and play football with him in the end of the cul-de-sac.
Knock-knock-knock, knock-knock-knock, knock, knock.
I tilt my head, my bear scenting the air. There it is again.
Knock-knock-knock, knock-knock-knock, knock, knock. This time I’m certain it’s not just my imagination.
I set my beer down and stride over to the glass doors to let Riley in, shaking my head. “You know you’re allowed to use the front door now, you idiot.”
“Why the heck would I do that?” He stretches up to ruffle my hair, which used to be achievable for him when we were kids, but it’s been a long time since my fox shifter friend could reach my head without getting on tiptoes. I pull him into a hug before he can.
“Good to see you.”
After a respectable amount of time, I release him and step back, wishing I didn’t have to. I love hugs. Always have.
“So what’s it like to move back in? Look at this place. It looks so different.” Riley spins, taking in the bare walls and empty space.
He’s right. The previous owners renovated the kitchen and the bathrooms when we moved out.
Objectively I know that was a smart choice.
The old orange-and-brown tiles were outdated, and nobody wants linoleum in the kitchen anymore.
Nobody except a sentimental bear who wanted to crawl back into a time and place where I was happy once upon a time.
“Yeah, it’s weird. It’s good to have my own place, though. Of course, there’s always space for you if you want a room close by your parents.”
Riley gives an incredulous laugh. “You’ve got to be joking! I’m straight back to the city as soon as the holidays are over. I’d live in a drafty cardboard box in an alley if it meant I got to live in the big smoke. I was not made for a small-town life.”
“That thing you call an apartment might as well be a drafty cardboard box, Riley. I’ve seen it. I could barely squeeze through the door.”
He brushes off my comment with a scoff and heads for the fridge, helping himself to a beer. “You can’t blame folks for not making things giant sized. Just because you grew to the size of one of Mrs Lachlan’s pumpkins that stayed hidden under the bush all summer.”
I laugh. He’s not wrong. Everything about me is about five sizes too big, which has caused its fair share of problems in my life. Some of which I hope my best friend never finds out about.
Riley’s still talking. “Now, Mom says you’d better be coming for Christmas lunch. And I’m here to add emphasis to the invitation. I’m not above begging. They’ll be more polite if you’re there.”
“Oh, I don’t want to be a hassle. I’m sure your folks have their hands full right now.”
“They could always use a distraction. Come on. It’ll be like old times. Vera’s even going to come.”
At this I prick up my ears, trying to keep my expression neutral. “Oh really? I thought she was still at college upstate.”
Riley shrugs, taking a drink from the bottle of beer. “Yeah, she is. I did the brotherly thing, though, and guilted her into coming home. I wasn’t made to be a martyr. If I have to deal with them, so can she.”
“How’s your mom?” I ask, knowing Riley’s flippant tone is covering his worry.
Riley sighs, growing serious. “Not good. Dad thinks it’s a progression, but we’re waiting on a specialist appointment in January.”
I nod. We all knew this was a possibility. I’m sure that doesn’t make it any easier on Riley, Jamie, and Vera. “Sorry, man.”
He’s quiet for a while. We both stare around the bare kitchen rather than make eye contact. After another few minutes, Riley drains his beer and sets the bottle on the counter. “So I’ll tell them you’re coming?”
“Yeah, if you’re sure I’m welcome.”
He claps me on the shoulder. “Of course. You’re practically family.”
“Should I bring anything?”
He lifts a brow. “If you want Mom to never speak to you again, sure. Take your life in your hands if you like.”
I snort. “OK, noted. You wanna stay? I was about to set up the TV so I can watch the game.”
He shakes his head. “Nah, I’ve gotta go help Dad with the gutters. Mom reckons it’s about to snow.”
After he leaves, instead of setting up the TV, I lie on the mattress which is stretched out on the floor of the master bedroom next to the stack of pieces I’ve got to make into the bed tomorrow.
For tonight I found the bag with my sheets and my warm duvet and will make do.
I tuck my hands under my head and look up at the ceiling.
I’m not sure how to feel about seeing Vera after all this time.
I haven’t seen her since the night she left for college.
The night she tried to kiss me and I had to shut that shit down faster than an oiled salmon swimming downstream.
There’s no way I could have let that happen.
For a start, she was practically still in high school and I had graduated from college the year before.
For another thing, she’s my best friend’s little sister, and Riley’s like a brother to me.
Even if all that weren’t true, I care about her too much to go anywhere near her.
The size difference between me and Riley is nothing compared to the one between me and his kid sister.
I’d break a little scrap of a thing like Vera just looking at her.
God knows I’ve been with women and monsters twice her size and none of those times ever ended well.
Which is why I’m alone again at Christmas time.
I stopped dating last year. Deleted all the apps and shut down Riley’s attempts to be my wingman on the few occasions I went up to the city to visit him.
There’s no point. I’m just not made for a mate. Not unless I meet a half-giantess or a thick orc mommy. Which, even in Mosswood, a town full of monsters, is practically impossible. So it’s just me and my hand for the foreseeable future. Well, two hands, since one doesn’t quite cut it.
Eventually I drag myself up out of bed and unpack the rest of the boxes in the kitchen until things are looking a bit tidier. There’s still work to do, but I guess the only person who will care if it takes a while is me.
I decide on the novelty Christmas sweater that makes me look like Santa’s slightly younger cousin. I love novelty Christmas sweaters and almost never get a chance to wear them in public. My family hasn’t celebrated Christmas together since I was a kid.
When I pull it on, though, it’s looking a little shorter in the sleeves and tighter across the chest and stomach than I remember. Guess maybe I put on a few pounds. God help me if I’m still growing at my age. Soon I really won’t be able to fit through doorways.
I run a hand through my mousy brown curls hoping that will sort out the way they’re poking up at odd angles, but, of course, it makes it worse. Great. Now I look like Santa’s good for nothing younger brother.
I’ve never been the slim athletic type, but these days I’m losing the battle with the dad bod, despite the fact I can’t see myself ever being a dad.
I guess bears are just built for warm hugs.
That’s what Grandpa always used to say before he died.
Standing beside my best friend, Riley, I look like someone carved me out of the side of the mountain but got too tired to do much carving and gave up before they finished.
He’s tall and slim, with the sort of lean physique and good looks that make both men and women look twice. He knows it too, arrogant bastard.
I hook my radio onto my belt. I don’t have to work over the Christmas shutdown, but I am on call in case there are any emergencies in the park.
Sometimes people think it would be a good idea to go out hiking while they can have the park to themselves, only to find out there’s a good reason we close the Black Pines to the public this time of year.
Feels a bit stupid knocking on the Ballards’ door.
When I was a kid, Tilly and Jamie basically encouraged me to treat it like a second home and I would have just walked in.
It’s been a while, though. I step back, reading the sign over the door which reads, ‘welcome to our den’ so it takes me a moment to notice when someone opens the door.
Someone achingly familiar and yet subtly changed at the same time.
My eyes drink in as much as I can see of Vera’s figure as they trail up strong legs in black leggings tucked into big, fluffy socks up to where the hem of her oversized sweater covers slim hips.
Her short red hair is pulled into a knot low on her neck, leaving a few strands free around her face to brush her pale cheeks.
Her cheeks color as I meet her eyes. “Hi.” I’d like to pull her in for a hug, but I’m also running over the last time I saw her in my mind.
The night she tried to kiss me and I think I broke her heart.
Fuck. This is awkward. I should never have come.
“Bas.”
We look at each other for another long, drawn-out moment while I berate myself for somehow forgetting the exact cadence of her soft, husky voice.
Riley pushes past her. “Come on, don’t stand there in the doorway like that, you loser. Get in here.”
I’m swept past Vera and into the house without even getting a chance to properly scent her.
She just watches me from over her shoulder as she closes the door, and I can’t tell what to make of the closed-off expression on her face.
Does she still hate me? She probably stopped thinking about that night years ago. Unlike me.
Probably moved on. She’s probably been up at college enjoying her newfound freedom and living her best life. Why does that thought send all the hairs on the back of my head on end?
We enter the living room, and suddenly I’m fighting down a bitter taste in my mouth, despite the mouthwatering smells coming from the kitchen and the warm glow from the fire.
Tilly looks up from her chair with a bright smile. “Sebastien. It’s so lovely to see you again. Congratulations, neighbor. It’ll be good to have you back in number twelve.”
I bend down to hug her and notice the way her hand trembles as she pats me on the back. She quickly tucks in under the blanket on her lap again, though, and resumes the conversation, asking about my parents and offering me a drink.
Jamie is just as enthusiastic, wrapping me in another big hug and fetching me a beer, and soon it almost feels like I’m home, surrounded by so many familiar things and people.
I cast a furtive look around at Vera, who sits on the sofa chair by the fire, but she won’t meet my eye. And though I try to ignore it, the guilty feeling tugs at me all the way through the delicious lunch, despite the warm, easy conversation with everyone else.
Vera is quiet. Way too quiet. Even when I work up the courage to ask a few direct questions about her life, she deflects and the conversation flows on.
I hate the tension between us. I shouldn’t, but I’d really like a chance to speak with her alone and see if I can set things right. We might not ever be able to be as close as we once were, but I can’t stand not seeing her smile and laugh like normal.