Chapter 3
I knew better than to skip out on Grandma's dinner. I showed up promptly at five. Grandma opened the door with a welcome smile. “Jen, how good to see you. It’s been ages.” Our last dinner was two months ago. She opened her arms and gave me the standard family hug-greeting.
I looked around the room with an internal sigh. Most of the family sat perched in the living room in a pre-dinner prelude to the torture some poor soul would later endure. I could only pray it wasn’t me. They took turns.
“How are you?” That from cousin Nate.
“Fine.” I tried not to smile sarcastically. I needed to practice my smiles in the mirror so I seem more genuine in my discomfort.
My brother walked out of the kitchen, and I waited for the punch line. He always had one. “Hey, Jen, we got you some string cheese.” He tossed me the package. At least Mom put an end to the jokes about traps. I think she feared that one day my animal self would forget and take cheese from a trap or maybe just imagining me stuck to a tiny board with a broken neck was enough. Hey, I don’t carry the plague like some rodents I can mention.
“Are you, like, ten? It’s not even funny anymore.” I hung my coat in the closet.
Grandma never stepped in when Todd started in on me. Mom did in a passive kind of way. “You are too old to tease your sister.” Todd was a wolf, former basketball star, and he graduated summa cum laude with a business degree. I’m the mouse dropout of the family. Dad put an arm on Mom’s shoulders and looked disappointed. I’m hoping his disappointment was aimed at Todd.
I once overheard Grandma’s lecture to my mother, and she clearly said that if my mom had conceived on the first night of the full moon, I wouldn’t have turned out the way I did. I was six. It didn’t take me long to realize why my family was ashamed of me. I made the childish mistake of talking about my were-animal with a couple of wolf-children down the street. After proudly telling them I was a mouse, the round of teasing lasted years.
Just the other day, I saw one of those neighbor kids at the grocery store and ducked back down the aisle to avoid an uncomfortable conversation. I’m hoping they mostly got over it, but the humiliation still sticks with me. Most people think I’m a regular non-were human unless they smell the animal on me after the moon the way Rob did. And I’m happy to let them believe it.
After a few minutes of getting reacquainted with the family, Grandma called dinnertime and we went into the dining hall to eat. The table we ate around was massive and the floor plans for Grandpa’s dream house were clearly built around the family’s need to entertain large family dinners. I think it’s a pack thing, and maybe that’s why I’m such a misfit. Everyone else seems to enjoy the get-togethers.
Instead of grace, we go around the table youngest to oldest and say something we’re thankful for. My niece, Piper, started with innocent importance. “I’m grateful for my puppy, Truffles.” (The irony is that family pets tend to get along with weres although my brother was never allowed a cat or dog for obvious reasons. When I change, I’m not much larger than the average mouse.)
And away we go. I’m fairly young in our family structure, so my turn came quickly. I froze. What am I grateful for? Two months ago I said my job, and while I could always repeat my answer, it wasn’t true anymore, was it?
Todd tapped his fork on the plate. “Trick question? Hurry up, dinner’s getting cold.”
Annoyed, I said the first thing that came to mind. “Flannel pajamas.” I stared Todd down until his turn. He picked his girlfriend Camilla. A few congratulations from family members who were hearing about her for the first time and then the rest of the family finished the ritual. That ordeal over, we started eating.
Most of the conversation revolved around Camilla and an invitation for her to join the next family dinner. I thought I’d gotten away free and clear until Grandma said. “So, Jen, have you found anyone to bring home to the family?” Grandma alternated between siblings.
“No, no one special.” I hated the way everyone looked at me with pity. I have my flaws, but I’m all right. My face is pretty, even if I do shift into a mouse.
Uncle Jack made things worse. “You don’t have to hide from us. There’s no shame in dating a non-shifter, as long as he’s good to you.”
Good old Uncle Jack. He didn’t mean to dump propane onto a roaring fire, he just had a knack for explosive material.
“I’m not embarrassed. I’m just not dating anyone.”
Grandma started to argue with me, as if she knew. “Now, Jen, we're a family...”
“I’m not…and for the record, I’m not embarrassed to be a mouse either. It’s not like I can help it.”
The table grew quiet. The younger kids were looking around trying to figure out the silence. Between the plate staring contests and uncomfortable glances, I figure I finally brought the raw nerve out into the open. I’d spent so many years playing along, but I was tired of it. “May I be excused?”
Those two seconds between asked and answered seemed an eternity. If I had stormed out without protocol, the next three years worth of gatherings would be filled with added innuendo and jokes, unless Todd miraculously grew up.
While Grandma dished lemon meringue pie with slightly brown crusted tops, I washed the dinner dishes, scrubbing a little more dramatically than required. Putting a piece of lemon meringue aside for me, Grandma patted my shoulder. “You’ll find the right person when the time is right.”
My sister, Andrea, brought in a few more plates and grabbed a towel to dry the ones I had already started. We hand-washed at Grandma’s house.
“You’re being a bit oversensitive. Grandma asks everyone those questions.” She said in a low voice.
“It’s different for you. You can give a running tally of your job and your husband’s accomplishments and your kid’s grade points. Mom and Dad should have stopped with you.”
“Jen!” Andrea sounded truly horrified. Maybe she was.
I shrugged and changed the subject. “Can I ask you something?”
Andrea slid the plates into the cupboard. “Sure.”
“Have you ever, you know, done it with a wolf in wolf form?”
“Well, sure, that’s part of the experience.” Andrea tucked her hair behind her ear with a far-off smile, probably thinking of a few rolls in the grass.
“What if you married a non-shifter? I mean with wolves being so..ummm.”
Andrea laughed. “You should probably ask someone else. I’ve always been active on the full moon.”
“Why is that? Is the desire really that bad?”
“Yeah. Not all full moons, but during the spring, it’s hard. That’s why Mom and Dad were so careful with us at moon-time when we hit puberty.”
“But a wolf wouldn’t force himself on another wolf, right?”
“No, of course not. Unless they are human rapists. We’re still people underneath the fur. You know that. Believe me there are plenty of wolves willing, and when you find your mate, everything changes.”
“How so? Don’t you worry that you’ll be cheated on with all of the hormones?” Again, thinking of Rob.
Andrea shook her head. “The desire is focused on your mate. Werewolves don’t sleep around once they find the person they are meant to be with.” Andrea stopped drying and turned with a frown on her face. “Where is this coming from?”
“Nowhere, I was just curious.” I twisted the dishrag and looked out the window.
“You’re in love with a wolf!” Andrea grinned, her voice carrying outside the kitchen.
“Shh…I am not.” I whispered. “I was just curious.”
“Look,” Andrea pulled me close and put her mouth against my ear, whispering. “Don’t ever tell anyone I told you this, but there is a mix of herbs we can take to reduce desire during moon-times.”
“Why is it a secret?” I whispered back.
“Werewolves are supposed to run the pack and find their mate, but nowadays women have careers and don’t nec
essarily want to mate right away.”
“I may be part of the family, but I’m not part of the pack.” I released the drain a little too hard and splashed water up. I’m twenty-four years old and this is the first time I've heard about how the full moon affects wolves and special herbs.
“Maybe not pack, but you need to mate just like everyone else. Don’t think the interest stops when you get married, though. You know how it is.” Yes, I did. Like being a tiny bug in a giant spider’s web, and every strand tugged by a different member of the family.
“Why didn’t anyone ever say anything? I’m just finding all this stuff out now?”
Andrea bit her lip and smiled, a habit she had when something amused her. “You never really seemed to have the same problems other weres had. And you take everything so personally I don’t think anyone wanted to bring it up.”
“I don’t.” My protests were loud enough to get the attention of the family and Andrea shushed me.
“Come over tomorrow night and we’ll talk more.” Andrea glanced over her shoulder at the table. “Too many wolf ears. Yeah, that means you.” She said to Piper on her way back into the dining room. Piper giggled and squirmed.
“What are you going to talk about Mama?”
“Aunt Jen has some problems at work that we’re going to discuss.” She thought she was covering well for me, but I turned a deep red and gave myself away. Andrea saw my face and pressed her lips together with an impish grin.
Moon Struck: When Were & Howl Book 1 Page 3