Chapter 23
Shanti was almost certain meeting Peter's parents would go well.
That was why she only changed her clothes four times, trying to find the right outfit, after showering.
That, and she had packed light so she only had about four outfits to change into at all, or she'd probably have tried on several more outfits.
Peter very patiently told her she looked wonderful in all of them, and even chose his favorite: a burgundy sweater over a cream blouse with a short black skirt and chunky heels.
"I knew I needed five pairs of shoes," she told him worriedly, and he grinned.
"Those ones are great. You're gorgeous. I love your hair."
She touched the short, fluffed-up curls, and smiled nervously. "Are your parents going to think women should have long hair?"
"My parents are going to think you're perfect, because you are. I'm just worried I don't meet your standards." Peter gestured at himself, and Shanti exhaled a sigh that ended with what felt like a very dippy smile.
"You are perfect. You look great. I love your hair, too. I always love your hair," she said with another dreamy sigh. "It's so long and silky and soft."
He did look great, in a soft chamois shirt of deep red and dark blue jeans that looked new.
His hair was loose, although he had a hair tie around his wrist because long hair was beautiful but also often super annoying, which was why Shanti wore hers short.
That, and she secretly believed almost everyone looked better with short hair, although she was more than willing to make an exception for Peter and the opportunity to sift her fingers through his dark shining strands.
"Yours looks so much easier to deal with," he said, echoing her thoughts so closely that she laughed.
"It is. But yours is so pretty. Okay." She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "I guess I'm ready, then."
"After you put on three more layers."
Shanti laughed again. "Right." She bundled into her coat and, a little to her surprise, they went to the truck. "Your parents live far away?"
Peter's mouth quirked as they got into the vehicle. "Not much in Alaska is walking distance. They're only about five miles, but—"
"Oh. Right. No, that's not really walking distance, is it? Especially in winter. You can walk to almost everything you need in Virtue, even in the winter."
"I noticed that. It's a great feature, but just not how things are built here.
" Peter drove them through town, amber streetlights glowing on streets narrowed by snow.
It was only about four-thirty in the afternoon, but it was dark enough to be night, and Shanti kept looking at her phone to verify the time.
Peter noticed and shook his head. "We're not late, don't worry. "
"No, it's the light. I keep thinking it must be later than it is."
"Being tired from the flight doesn't help, but…yeah. That's just kind of how it is here. Summer makes up for it, if you can cope with the winters. On the positive side, we're just past the solstice now so it's technically lighter longer today than yesterday!"
Shanti snickered. "Do we count that in seconds or nanoseconds?"
"Entire seconds," Peter promised. "By the end of the week it'll be whole minutes."
"You're joking. Really?"
"Well. A whole minute. It'll take two weeks to be whole minutes, if I'm being completely honest." By then they were pulling into another driveway that fronted a big wood-sided house with an enormous attached garage, and Peter nodded.
"This is where I grew up. Me, two brothers and a sister, my parents, and grandparents. "
"Are they all bear shifters?"
"My mom and her mom aren't. So you're not entirely alone," he offered with a wry smile, but it made Shanti feel better.
Being the only true human in a house full of bear shifters seemed like a lot.
Peter got out of the truck and came to open her door, helping her down even though she didn't really need it.
He met her eyes, hope and rueful amusement in his own. "Ready?"
"As ready as I'll ever be, I think."
Pete took her hand and squeezed it like he was assuring her everything would be okay, and then together they went into the house.
The entryway was a square foyer with an upstairs and a downstairs off to the left, and his mom was waiting for them in the foyer, with what looked like a carefully restrained expression of curious welcome on her face.
She was also almost vibrating with obvious excitement, which made her effort at casual restraint pretty funny.
Even funnier was the fact that the rest of the family, who had clearly been ordered not to overwhelm Peter and his mate, were gathered in bunches at the top and the bottom of the two staircases, and all of them had huge, hopeful grins and were also actually jittering with anticipation.
Shanti looked up the stairs, down the stairs, at Peter's mom, and couldn't help herself: she giggled, and clapped an apologetic hand over her mouth.
"I'm sorry!" his mom half-howled. "I told them to behave themselves!"
"We are behaving!" three different people of three different generations yelled indignantly, and Shanti's giggles turned into a full, body-shaking laugh as she put her hand out to Peter's mom.
"Hi. I'm Shanti, and this is actually great."
"I'm Brenda STAY WHERE YOU ARE!"
That was obviously directed at the other eight people in the house, but Shanti and Peter both snapped to rigid attention, too, holding still before dissolving into more laughter. "Sorry," Brenda said, clearly dismayed. "I didn't mean you."
"We are staying where we are!" someone else said with the same indignation as the first three, but in Brenda's defense, two of them were on the stairs when they hadn't been before, and a third—a grandparent—was easing their foot back down to the floor like they hadn't been about to charge up the stairs, themselves.
"Shoo! Move it! Carl!"
A middle-aged man downstairs who was probably Peter's father, responded to the last, and began herding the family up the stairs, muttering, "Go, go, there's room in the living room, everybody's gotten to see her now, don't crowd the poor woman, sorry," which was to Shanti as he got two grandparents and a sibling past her in the foyer, and moved everybody else out of sight once they were up the second flight of stairs.
Only once he'd turned the corner upstairs did Brenda take a step back and gesture at stairs herself.
"It's safe now. I think."
"I feel confident. And it smells wonderful in here."
Brenda beamed. "Deep-fried halibut and shrimp."
Shanti shook her head as she went up the stairs right behind Peter. "I've never had halibut. Is it good?"
"Is it—" Shanti thought Brenda might faint, and everybody in the upstairs erupted in half-serious outrage at the question.
"It's the best whitefish there is," Peter murmured beneath his family's debate, all of which was about how good halibut was, no it was better than that, how could anybody not know that, well she's from Outside, you know, you can't trust Outsiders to know anything about fish—
"I am so sorry," he added in a whisper. "They're not usually like this."
"Are you sure?" she whispered back.
"Honestly, they're not. But they're a little excited to meet you.
" By that time they were upstairs and the entire debating family fell silent, all with expressions that indicated they were trying very hard to be on their very best behavior and failing terribly.
The living room they sat in was long, with two big couches and an armchair, a picture window at the far end, and a television in the corner that backed up to the stairs, like an afterthought.
The lights were all on, bright against the darkness outside, and Shanti realized everybody else was a little dressed up, too.
They were all trying to make good impressions on each other, she thought.
"This is Nan," Peter said, starting with an old, grey-haired, round-faced woman on the right who had taken over the armchair like it was her own personal throne.
"Nancy," the old woman pronounced in a much more obviously clipped accent than Peter's. "That's why I'm Nan. Covers all territory. Nana and name."
Shanti beamed. "It's nice to meet you, Nan."
"Those are my sister and brothers, Lynn, Jack, and Aaron, my Mom and Dad, he's Carl, and Grandma and Grandpa Pat and Patty. You can figure out which is which on your own."
"Really? Pat and Patty?"
"Really," one of them said. "We decided we had to get married just to confuse people."
Shanti laughed. "There are probably worse reasons to get married."
The other one said, "There are better ones, too," and a cackle went up around the room before Peter's sister, Lynn, said, "You've really never had halibut?" When Shanti shook her head, Lynn's eyes widened and her smile grew. "You're in for a treat, then. Can we bring her fishing?"
That was directed at Peter, who lifted his eyebrows. "First, you should ask Shanti. Second, no, it's December. Although I guess the rockfish is good at this time of year," he added immediately, sounding as if he was contradicting himself.
"There's trout, too," his father said, but his mother made a face.
"There's no point in trout. It's weak salmon."
"Really?" Shanti asked again. "Salmon's better than trout?"
Peter's entire family focused on her with a soft, "OooOOOOoooooh," as if she'd said something truly stunning. After a bit of silence, his brother Jack said, "Yeah," with a grin that reminded her of Peter's. "And I bet Alaskan trout is better than whatever you're used to. Do you like boats?"
"I've never been on one?"
"Cheechako!" Nan said gleefully. "You'll either love it or high-tail it out of here!"
"It means newcomer," Peter breathed, and glared at his family with a certain amount of heat, though it was tempered by fondness. "Please be nice to my fated mate?"
"Have you seen him turn into a bear?" his sister promptly demanded. "Do you want to see the rest of us turn into bears?"
"Outside!" Brenda yelled. "And if you're not careful I'll mean Outside-outside!"
Shanti said, "Oh my God," faintly as Peter's siblings all leaped up, obviously prepared to go charging outdoors and show her how they, too, could turn into bears.
Even—worse? Better? Funnier? She wasn't sure—even something-er, two of his grandparents seemed entirely willing to do the same, hauling themselves out of their couch.
Nan stayed where she was, looking smug about staying in.
Peter also said, "Oh my God," under his breath. "I'm sorry. I don't think I can stop them."
"No, it's okay, I think I'm kind of fascinated to see old bears up close?"
He ducked his head over hers, breathed, "You really are perfect," and aloud, said, "Okay, everybody out to the back yard, then, Mom will literally kill us if she has to deal with eight bears in her living room."
Everyone rushed, meandered, or ambled, according to their age, toward the kitchen, which was off to the left of the living room.
Peter and Shanti took up the rear except for Brenda, who followed them with mutters and shooing motions as she actually went into the kitchen while everybody else turned right and headed for a back deck door that was off the dining room.
"You do not have to go out and watch them all be furries," Brenda told Shanti, who let out a startled laugh.
"Do you suppose many furries are also shifters?
That would be amazing. But I don't mind.
This is all still pretty new and fascinating to me.
And that smells so good." The frying fish and huge pile of golden, hand-cut, homemade french fries growing beside the fryer made Shanti's stomach rumble, and Brenda looked pleased.
"Please remember they're all greedy bears and don't hesitate to stab somebody in the hand with your fork if you're not getting your fair share. My mother included."
"Wait, Nan? I thought she wasn't a bear?"
"She's not," Brenda said with a wicked grin. "But she is greedy."
"I heard that!" Nan yelled from the living room, and Shanti was laughing again as she went onto the back deck.
The whole bear side of the family had already shifted, although Peter stayed on the deck with her.
They were all in the yard below, visible because the living room light shone on the back yard.
The three youngest bears were batting snow at each other like children, even if they were all in their twenties as humans.
The one she guessed was Carl, due to the lack of grey in his fur, was watching with visible amusement as his parents sat in the snow like kings and queens, then toppled over as the snow gave way to their weight.
One of the younger ones stood up, making themselves as large as possible, and another of them rammed right into the first, knocking them both over.
The next thing Shanti knew, Lynn and Jack were lying in the snow, howling with laughter and pummeling each other feebly.
"So this is my family," Peter said wryly, and Shanti smiled up at him.
"I love them already. Almost as much as I love you."