Chapter Thirteen
Treg
Hemlock Mountain
The nursery was put together and stocked before the baby shower rolled around.
The pack had recently started free expedited drone delivery on all baby and child products if you bought them from a pack-owned business.
Most of the items were delivered the same day.
This particular change in structure had ruffled some people’s fur because it meant other orders would be moved back if something came up.
Though, in the end, it was voted into being.
Besides, things like meds and food were already sent out first no matter what the drones were needed for.
Pretty soon everything would have a ranking, and the pack would be better off for it.
Sure, it meant either I had to wait a few days or buy my art supplies in person, but my paint pens weren’t more important than someone’s dinner or meds.
The night before the baby shower, we couldn’t help ourselves and camped out on the floor of the nursery in my old sleeping bag.
We lay cuddled up on the floor talking most of the night.
We talked the future of our little one in circles.
Where we’d do holidays and how much of his side of life they’d be able to see.
That was largely dependent on how much of his love and tolerance for the cold that our baby inherited.
We tossed around names but none of them stuck.
It was so hard to name a little person. Sure, names are gifts and eventually our kid would be able to choose one of their liking if they didn’t vibe with the one we gave them but it was still an honor to have a part in choosing one at all.
That night I found out Damon’s name was all a big misunderstanding. His parents thought diamonds were called day-mons. So that’s what they named him. Knowing that made it easy to understand why he thought the Snow Demon chant was for him.
My birth name, the one I didn’t use anymore, was a really common name, but one I hacked in half and tossed a G on the end of to come up with something that I liked being called.
I wasn’t sure my parents ever understood my reasons.
If our kid ever decided to change their name in the future, we wouldn’t make them explain it.
Names were so weird. To start with they weren’t picked by the person who had to answer to them.
It was something so integral to identity, yet we’re expected to keep the one someone else picked.
It would almost be like if someone else always picked your dinner out and you could never question why or complain about it.
Don’t like haggis and clams mixed up together in a great big bowl?
Too bad. It wasn’t your choice but now you’re stuck with it. Eat up like a good little sheep.
“Haggis is part sheep…. Right?” Damon asked, the corners of his lips quirking up as the joke dawned on him.
“Yeah,” I nodded and kissed his forehead.
“You don’t get to cook if you think those things go together by the way,” he teased me.
“That’s fair enough. Though, I don’t eat either of those things,” I said.
“What about Festival?” Damon asked me.
“What about it?”
“No, what about Festival? Like as a name,” he said.
“Maybe. I sort of like it,” I nodded.
“And it doesn’t have any genitals attached to it,” he nodded and I laughed.
With sisters named Loop and Sawe (Saw-ee) it was clear that most of the yeti names weren’t gendered or if they were it was in a way I didn’t understand and I was okay with that. Maybe there was some innate naming conventions that I missed out on, but I’d figure them out the more time I spent there.
“There isn’t,” Damon shook his head, picking up on my thoughts over our mating link.
“I think our biggest rule is don’t steal someone’s name without asking.
Like if Loop had a baby and named them Sawe without asking the original Sawe if she was okay with it, that would be bad.
Oh, and don’t name the baby after dumb people or they’ll be dumb or after mean people because the baby might be mean.
We avoid some names for that reason. No, Do---”
Damon stopped mid-sentence and looked down at his stomach.
“Are you okay?” I asked, moving my hand there as if I could protect him and our unborn baby from whatever was going on.
“I…. How difficult would it be to move the baby shower here?” Damon whispered.
“I don’t think they’re decorating until the morning. So, not hard at all. Is everything okay?” I asked again.
“I…. I think so,” he nodded. “I… I think…” Damon let out a long, slow breath like he was in pain and then his hands went over mine.
I poked Kirk hard over the pack link until he yelped aloud.
My phone rang but I wasn’t about to sprint through the house to answer it while my mate writhed on the floor of our unborn baby’s nursery.
“It’s…” Damon tried again but pain carved into his face and ate up his words again. “Big. Big time. It’s big time.”
I glanced from his face to the belly he clutched with both hands. There was a baby bump stretching under the Santa Claus dressed as a reindeer t-shirt he borrowed from me.
“What do I do, mate?” I asked, hating myself for not asking before. You should always ask someone what to do in an emergency or medical event before it happens, not during.
“Nothing,” he shook his head. “Just…. Just stay with me.”
I scooted back against the wall with the snowy decals and pulled him upright into my arms and held onto him as his body morphed and tugged on him.
A couple hours later, his belly looked as if he’d been carrying our baby around for nine months.
Somewhere in the middle of all the commotion, Kirk used the key I gave to Chasten when I moved in to let himself inside.
He tried in vain to get us to explain it all to him again because Damon couldn’t speak and my mate was all the stimulation I could handle.
I held onto him, cooed to him, and got him through the growth cycle of our unborn child but the added need to speak to Kirk was too much.
Thankfully, he’d been around long enough that he didn’t take offense and tuned into the pack link to gather up the details. That’s why he was such a good nurse.
By the time everything was said and done it was nearly two in the morning and Damon was starving. As soon as his pain resolved, he looked around and asked if there was anything to eat. Thankfully, I had thought ahead enough to stock the fridge and pantry with as much food as they’d hold.
“Pizza if they’ll bring it,” Damon said to no one in particular as he pushed himself upright. The muscles in his arms and legs flexed as he did so, showing off his incredible strength as he hefted his pregnancy bulk and patted off into the kitchen as if nothing had happened.
“Thanks for coming by, Kirk,” I said, patting myself down for the phone I’d left in the other room when we ‘went’ to bed.
“It’s what friends are for,” Kirk shrugged. “I’m sticking around for pizza, though.”
“I don’t blame you,” I managed a sleepy laugh. “I thought… I thought something was wrong with the baby when he grabbed his stomach like that. I thought…”
“That is every parent’s worst nightmare,” Kirk nodded and held out his hand to help me up. “He knows what he’s doing more than anyone at the hospital would. If they do ever join the rest of society, that’ll have to change.”
“Either way that has to change. One day our kid might want to have a kid and growing up out here means they’d probably want a hospital involved. Well, maybe. You know what I mean.”
“Yeah. Well, I promise this, everyone who shows up in labor at the hospital does get the best help we can get. Not everyone listens as well as some of us but the carrier/infant mortality rate is miniscule now. Still not small enough. One is too many in this day and age but it’s miniscule in comparison to what it once was.
With all that said, I would like to do another ultrasound if Damon’s agreeable. ”
“Don’t get eaten,” I teased him as I stepped out of the room to grab my phone and order the pizza.
“You’re more likely to bite me than he is,” Kirk laughed.
“Exactly!” I called over my shoulder as I made my way down the hall.