7. Bjorn #2
Well, that much was true. Was Ohio known for anything in particular, come to think of it?
Something about election manipulation, maybe.
That was just a vague memory, though. “Well, Led Zeppelin are gods of classic rock,” he informed his companion.
“'Immigrant Song,' which is what our ears are currently being blessed with, is based on Old Norse mythology. It’s basically a history class in music form. Listen and learn.”
Dennis shot him a sidelong look. “Ooo-kay,” he drawled, sounding like he’d decided not to challenge the crazy man. “I’d still rather you turn it off if you’re going to go to sleep, though.”
Bjorn huffed. “Fine, I’ll stay awake. But that means you have to converse with me.”
“About what?”
“Whatever comes up!” he said. “Like…tell me about your family. Or about your ex-wife.” He really wanted to hear more about the ex-wife, because maybe that could tell him something about what his mate wanted - and didn’t want - in a partner, but he didn’t want to be too pushy about it.
Dennis sighed, sounding put-upon by the request. “I have two brothers,” he finally said reluctantly.
“Edmund and Brian. Edmund moved to Seattle, but Brian lives in Maryland near me. He’s an accountant; does my books for the pub.
Edmund is married to Katie, and they have one daughter, Annette.
She’s…” He pondered for a moment. “Seven, now? Geesh, how did that happen?”
Bjorn smiled at the thought of the little girl. “Do you see her often? Do they visit, or do you visit them in Seattle?”
Dennis shook his head. “Haven’t seen her since she was three. I’m too busy to travel much and same for Edmund and Katie. We do video chat pretty regularly, though, so at least Annette and I can recognize each other.” He paused. “What about your family?”
Bjorn was torn between being pleased at the expression of interest in his life, and reluctant to answer the question because, well, it was a long story.
Finally, he sighed. “I’m an only child. My parents still live on den land, but I don’t really talk to them much.
They don’t approve of me. I went to live with my Gran when I was fifteen, because my dad decided I was ‘incorrigible’ and hoped she’d straighten me up with old-fashioned discipline.
” He shrugged. “Instead, she hugged me a lot.” It hit him again then that she was sick, probably really sick, and his throat got thick. “I love her,” he managed thickly.
Dennis made a sympathetic noise and glanced over at him. “I’m sure she loves you back.”
“She does,” he was able to say firmly. “She never let me doubt that, especially after I moved in with her. She doesn’t approve of how my parents treat me.”
“And how do they treat you?” Dennis asked curiously, then paused. “I mean, if you’re willing to talk about it. Maybe that’s insensitive to ask?”
Bjorn managed a snort. “Since when do you mind being insensitive?”
“Hey, I can be sensitive,” Dennis protested. “I did say you don’t have to answer!”
“Eh.” Bjorn shrugged. “It’s not really sensitive to discuss so much as it’s just depressing.
They’re high-up in den politics and wanted me to be a serious, laser-focused political player.
Instead they got a goof-off who likes playing with the kids and wanted to go into art.
So I get a lot of…parental disapproval, I suppose.
Lots of ‘When are you going to come home and marry a good bear?’ and ‘Art is never going to make you a living, you know.’ Despite the fact that art has been making me a good living for more than ten years.
So then I try to explain that to them, they don’t listen, and next thing I know, we’re arguing. ”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. So I tend to avoid calling them unless it’s something to do with Gran, and they do the same. We’ve reached a silent agreement that we just…won’t talk, so we don’t argue.”
Dennis winced, glanced at him, and then focused on the dashboard. “See if you can find us a good rest stop; it’s time to fill up.”
Too real for him? Bjorn belatedly realized Dennis hadn’t mentioned his own parents when talking about his family. He stored that factoid in the back of his head and picked up his phone to locate the nearest rest stop.
***
“So I said,” Bjorn intoned grandly three hours later, tossing a handful of gummi bears into his mouth, “‘If you don’t want to run with a bear, maybe don’t barge in on my shifting grounds.’”
“Shifting grounds?” Dennis asked curiously, glancing at him.
It hit Bjorn all over again that his mate was very human and, from what he could tell, had hardly been exposed to shifters in his day-to-day life before now.
Well, that was going to change. “Yeah,” he said, “most shifters who don’t live on den/pack/what-have-you property tend to stake out some ground that they use for most of their shifts.
Mine’s a patch of state park about twenty minutes from my house.
Lots of forest, the occasional stream to fish in, and sometimes some small prey if it doesn’t run from me. ”
Dennis’s eyes widened. “Wait, you hunt as a bear?”
“Sometimes,” he allowed. “Shifting takes a lot of calories, and sometimes you just get…munchy…and there’s a bunny that runs right across the path and, well, instinct takes over.”
The other man wrinkled his nose, then held out his hand, palm up, to Bjorn. “Give me some of those gummi bears. I need sugar after picturing that.”
Grinning, Bjorn shook some candy into Dennis’s hand. “It’s not that gross. Natural bears eat whole deer and stuff. I’m mostly about the stuff I can eat in one bite. Not interested in hardcore hunting.”
“Gross,” was all he got from Dennis on that one.
Bjorn ate some more gummi bears. “Anyway, so the guy got very annoyed with me and started going off about how I didn’t own the state park and I couldn’t tell him what to do, and I was like, ‘Ok but I’m still gonna be here too,’ and he stormed off to report me to a park ranger.
Who laughed at him and told him that tons of shifters use the park, predators and prey both, and if he couldn’t deal with that he’d be better off using a treadmill at home.
” He laughed at the memory. “Man, that guy’s face turned nearly purple. ”
Dennis chuckled. “I mean, to be fair, I’m not sure how I’d react if I was out for a hike and ran into an enormous bear…and then the bear turned into a naked dude and started talking to me like it was any other day.”
“Well,” Bjorn pointed out, “it basically was any other day, to me. I shift at least once a week out there.”
“Only once a week?” Dennis asked curiously. “The rate you’ve been shifting at lately, I would have thought it averaged out to a lot more.”