Chapter 6 - Dina #2
I glance at my feet, then at Caleb, hoping he’ll say something to change the subject, but he’s standing a little apart, holding Alora with both hands, and for once his expression is one of genuine surprise, but he doesn’t say anything, just holds my eyes for a second, as if to say, I see you. I feel the back of my neck flush.
Thomas is already making notes on his phone, and Nick grins at me, his presence as reassuring as a weighted blanket. “You’re welcome at training, Dina. Any time.”
I thank him, not sure how to feel about the entire exchange, and then men drift off to prepare for the usual sparring rounds that always happen at pack events.
I notice Caleb holding Alora and realize he’s not taking part.
For some stupid reason, my feet move before my brain engages, and I walk over, offering my arms to Alora, who reaches for me, beaming.
“I’ll take her, you go take part,” I say, barely looking him in the eye.
Alora practically flings herself into my arms, and I didn’t realize how much I’d missed her weight until I’m holding her again. “Are you sure?” he says, the surprise evident in his voice, “you’re not on the clock.”
“I know,” I say, holding Alora close as he nods once and heads off.
The first round of sparring starts with the usual posturing and trash talk, which means most of the pack kids start to drift over to the edge of the ring, trying to get the best view.
I don’t want to draw attention, so I hang back by the low benches with Alora on my hip, half-watching as Nick goes up against Caleb in a friendly.
My stomach clenches with a feeling I don’t want to examine as Caleb pulls his shirt over his head and discards it before shifting.
Next to me, Maisie has appeared, clearly sulking, arms folded tight, a scowl on her face that would have made my father proud.
I suspect it’s still because she’s not allowed to take part in the games yet, and I recognize the feeling.
It’s the same one that I used to get at events like this when I was little and not allowed to do what the others were doing.
I shift Alora to my other hip and edge closer to Maisie’s bench.
She glares up, ready to repel all invaders, and I meet her stare with one of my own. “You don’t look like you’re having a great afternoon,” I say, and then give her a moment to decide whether she wants to answer or not.
She considers me. “I want to do the obstacle run, but Dad says I’m too little.”
I nod. “That sucks. I’d be mad, too.” I say, and she shrugs, then sighs so heavily it blows the hair away from her face.
Alora is getting squirmy, so I set her on the bench next to Maisie and unsnap a rattle toy from the diaper bag.
Alora bats at it, tries to eat it, and then loses interest. Maisie watches this in silence, her face settling into something softer, and after a minute she picks up the rattle and shakes it gently, so the baby blinks and giggles.
“She likes you,” I say, hoping it comes off as casual.
Maisie shrugs again, but there’s a flicker of pride. “I’m good with babies,” she says.
“I believe it.” I let the silence stretch, then say, “You know, you can run the course when they’ve finished. I’ll time you.”
Maisie looks up, skeptical, then glances at her mom, who is deep in conversation by the food tables. “You’d do that?”
“Sure,” I say, “I used to help my dad set up those runs, back in the day. I’m an expert.”
She looks at me wide-eyed and then beams, running off to tell her mom before they both walk back over. Fiona smiles, “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Of course not,” I say, and I mean it. Maisie is now dancing around, and I feel a warmth in my heart as she finds some space to do a warm-up routine.
Fiona sits next to me and picks up Alora’s rattle to dance it in front of her eyes, “You're a natural," Fiona says, in a voice rich with approval that makes me want to squirm. "The way you handle her…you sure you've only been doing this a month?"
I shrug, but my cheeks burn. "It’s mostly just keeping her alive, I think."
Fiona shakes her head. “No, it’s more than that.
Babies know when they’re wanted.” She bounces Alora on her lap, and the baby coos, untroubled.
“I’ve seen a lot of wolves try the single-parent thing.
It’s never this easy. And you,” she adds, shifting her gaze to me, “you’re good for both of them.
” She glances toward the riverbank, where Caleb is already shifting back, toweling off in a distracting way after a clean win in the ring.
I want to protest, tell her that I don’t belong in this picture, that I’m just a placeholder, but I don’t. I just watch as Maisie gallops through her warm-up, and as Fiona gently tickles Alora’s foot, earning a delighted squawk.
"She really does like you," Fiona says softly. "Even when her dad's around, I can tell. The way she looks at you, the way she settles. It's special."
I look at Alora, and the baby fixes me with a wide, wet-eyed stare, her whole face lighting up when I catch her gaze. I smile despite myself. "I don't know what I'm doing," I confess. "Sometimes I think I'm just making it up as I go."
Fiona laughs, brushing a lock of hair from her own baby's forehead. "That’s all any of us are doing. The difference is, you care enough to worry about it." The words disarm me, and I feel my chest tighten in a way that's both sweet and painful.
I watch Caleb as he lingers at the edge of the ring, clearly enjoying the camaraderie, but glancing over every few seconds to check on Alora. I realize for the first time that he trusts me with her, really trusts me, and the thought is heavier than I expect.
When our eyes lock, I feel everything tilt, and my mouth goes dry. I’ve been trying to ignore the way he looks with his shirt off because I’ll be damned if I’m just another woman who finds him attractive, but the blush creeps up my neck and dances across my cheeks anyway.
I pull my gaze away and try to focus on what Fiona is saying and watching Maisie's warm-ups as Alora coos happily between us. I want to say this feels happy, or at least comfortable, and it has been easier than I anticipated. But there’s a heaviness lingering that I can’t shift—it’s the quiet rage and lingering pain over my circumstances that I keep pushing down, hoping it will vanish, but suspecting it never will.