by Robin Roseau
She paused, and then she said, “Dinner tomorrow.”
“All right. Tomorrow.”
But she didn’t say goodnight. Instead she said, “I care about you, Zoe.” She paused again. “We’ll talk tomorrow. I don’t like doing this over the phone.”
“All right. Good night, Elisabeth. Thank you for calling.”
“I hope the soak helps. I’m sorry, Zoe. We were too rough.”
“It was my own fault. I tripped over my own feet.”
“Good night,” she said. And we clicked off.
* * * *
I slept poorly, both because I hurt and because I didn’t know what was going on between us. Was she coming to sweep me off my feet? Could she convince me I was wrong? Or was she coming to agree with me?
Could I love her? I was sure if she put any effort into it, she’d have me wrapped around her finger. I already thought she was nearly perfect, but I wasn’t sure if my mind was clouded by what she was.
I was still in awe, these months later.
Was I messing things up? When she arrived, should I beg her forgiveness and try to be whatever it was she wanted?
She’d give me a good life; I was sure of that. I’d be safe and well cared for. I’d lack for nothing.
Was that true?
If she didn’t love me, I’d lack for love.
Would I have friends? Perhaps.
Would I be respected? I wasn’t too sure about that. I didn’t feel I had anything any of them found worth respecting. I could see the respect they had for each other, but I wasn’t anything they seemed to covet or respect. I wasn’t rich or powerful. I certainly wasn’t strong or fast.
Could I be happy if she didn’t love me? If she didn’t respect me? Would I just be the human pet?
That was an ironic thought. She was the one that looked like a pet, not me.
I slept, but it was fitful, and sometime in the middle of the night, I took more ibuprofen.
I was ragged by morning, and I felt every single one of my years, and then some. I popped more ibuprofen and stood under the shower for a long, long time.
After that, I kept myself busy until late afternoon. I made some calls related to an upcoming GreEN event, worked on some of my photographs from the diving trip, and found other ways to distract myself.
More or less.
At four, I gave up. I took another hot bath, soaking for a long time before climbing out of the tub. September was here, but it was a nice day outside, so I wore a light dress and selected a pashmina in case it grew chilly later.
Then I did some surfing while I waited for Elisabeth.
An hour later there was a knock at the door. I guess when you are the pack head enforcer and your sister owns the building, the security guard doesn’t announce you. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
I hurried to the door, peeked to be sure it was she, and then opened. We stood there, staring at each other for a minute.
She was dressed in her professional clothes, a grey pantsuit. As she always did, she looked amazing, and I couldn’t help but smile. We might be having difficulties, but this amazing woman was here to see me.
“Hey,” I said in a soft voice.
“Hey,” she echoed, stepping into the apartment. I closed the door and moved into her arms.
We kissed, but it wasn’t as warm as I might have preferred. But then when she lightened her arms around me, I refused to let her go, laying my head against her shoulder. I breathed her in deeply.
We stayed like that for a minute or so. I didn’t want to let her go. As long as she held me like this, I could believe the best. I could believe all would be right with the world, or at least my little corner of it.
“We should go,” she said finally. “We have reservations.”
“Oh,” I said. “Right. Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” she said. “You feel good.”
I stepped away, collected my shoes and pashmina, and we headed out.
She didn’t hold my hand on the way to her car, but she did have a hand at the center of my back, directing me. I’d found that all the wolves did this. I’d watched Lara and Serena both do it with Michaela. Elisabeth, Portia, Karen and even Monique had found ways to guide me where they wanted me. I didn’t have enough experience to know if it went beyond the fox and me.
There was a time I would have found it, oh, I don’t know. Maybe condescending. But when Elisabeth did it, it felt comforting. I wondered if I would always feel that way.
She was driving her SUV tonight, and she handed me into the car. “Very gallant,” I said, settling into the seat. She just nodded and gently closed the door for me.
I didn’t ask where we were going; I was pretty sure it would be The Green Room. Instead, during the drive, we exchanged notes for the day. I told her what I had done. She told me about business meetings Lara had held.
“Do you have to protect her?”
“Not necessarily, but we don’t let her go anywhere without some sort of escort.”
“But Karen is her head of security.”
“Yes, but Karen doesn’t have a business degree.”
“She relies on your opinion.”
“Yes, she relies on my opinion.”
I thought about it and realized that was another way we were different; no one relied on my opinion. I had to fight to get anyone to listen to me, and it occurred to me that’s how I’d spent most of my life.
I was wondering why I cared. Why did I fight so hard? Why did I fight so hard for GreEN? Why was I so convinced I was right.
“Elisabeth?”
“Yes?”
“Do you…” I stopped and looked out the window.
“Do I what?”
“What is your opinion of what I do for GreEN?”
“I think you’re very passionate.”
I didn’t say anything but continued to watch the world roll past the window.
“That wasn’t what you wanted to hear, was it?”
“You think I’m wasting my time. Maybe you even think I’m wrong.”
“I don’t think either of those things,” she said. “And it’s not fair of you to assume.”
I turned back to look at her. She glanced over. “I didn’t ask about my emotional state; I asked about what I do, and you answered with a response about my zeal, not about the worth of my goals.”
“All right,” she replied. “I liken you to Don Quixote.”
I looked back out the window. “I’m looking at windmills and seeing dragons?”
“No. But I think you’re fighting a losing fight.”
“It’s an important fight,” I replied hotly.
“I agree. I would argue that Lara and Michaela are accomplishing more in the fight than you are, and I would argue that you could accomplish more than you do.”
I turned to glare at her.
“You asked,” she said defensively.
“You think I’m ineffective.”
“I think economics is going to win.”
“That’s a path to complete, utter ruin!”
“I agree.”
“So… You’re not making sense!”
“That’s because it’s a complicated topic,” she replied. “Give me a few concrete things that you feel need to happen.”
“We need to stop burning fossil fuels!”
“Okay, good,” Elisabeth replied. “What have you done about it?”
“I work to educate people!”
“What is the path to freeing us from fossil fuels?” she asked.
“Exploration and implementation of alternative sources of energy.”
“Good,” she said. “Such as wind turbines?”
“Exactly.”
“All right. How many wind turbines has GreEN erected in Wisconsin?”
“But they’re expensive!”
She pulled into the parking lot for The Green Room, parked, and turned to me. “I could be wrong on this, Zoe, but it seems to me there’s something differen
t you could be doing.”
“What?”
“You could find ways to pay for wind turbines.”
“But…”
“But what?” she asked. “The one Lara put up was expensive, but you wouldn’t have to start that big.”
“I barely have two pennies to rub together!”
“Try thinking outside the box,” she said. “You’re a smart woman.”
“You think I should beg for donations towards a turbine farm?”
“You could,” she said. “Or you could earn it.”
“Yeah, because I’m rolling in dough from selling photographs.”
“I’ve seen your photos,” she said. “They’re good. I’ve also watched you during your pack duty days. You’re really good with the kids, and you know your stuff. So why not host getaways? You could lead nature trips or nature photography trips. Use them to fund wind turbines or solar panel farms. Or take a job that actually pays something. Your expenses are incredibly low right now, so you could apply most of what you make towards your solar farm fund.”
“But what I do for GreEN is important!”
“What have you accomplished?”
“You don’t respect what I do!”
“I respect what you’re trying to do. But if you think outside the box, I believe you could accomplish more than you have historically.”
I deflated and looked out the window.
“Zoe, you are spending all your time trying to convince other people to do what you think they should. And if you succeeded, that would be fabulous. But instead of trying to get other people to do the right thing, why not lead by example? Instead of expecting other people to put up that solar farm, do it yourself.”
I didn’t say anything. We sat there for a minute before she added, “Just think about it. Mull it over. If you want to talk some more, we can. But I think I’ve said more than you can accept right now. I want to be clear. I respect you. I respect you a great deal. Now, I want you to look at me.”
I turned to face her; I was sure my face was filled with shame, and I knew I was on the edge of tears.
“If you decide to build that solar farm, I’ll help you.”
I didn’t know what to say about that.
“You’re not ready to think about that, but when you are, come see me. All right?”
I nodded.
“I respect you, Zoe,” she said. “I respect what you are trying to do. I think trying to get others to do the right thing is a terribly difficult thing, and I believe you could accomplish more, especially with just a little help from the pack.”
“The pack.”
“Yes. The pack, of which you are a valued member.”
I looked away. I might be a member, and maybe Lara said it was more than honorary, but I wasn’t sure whether I believed any of that. “All right,” I said. I looked back at her. “I guess that’s not as bad as it could have been.”
“Maybe after you mull it over, you’ll start to form your own ideas. If you don’t want to talk to me about them, you can talk to Michaela. She loves to talk about this stuff. But she doesn’t have the business acumen you need. Lara and I, on the other hand…” She trailed off. “All right?”
I nodded. “All right.”
“Good.” And at that, she climbed from the vehicle. I hurried to catch up to her.
* * * *
“This table looks familiar.”
“I called before five,” she said.
“You meant that literally, on our first date, when you said this table was reserved.”
“Yes,” she said. “It’s my favorite place in the entire restaurant.”
“And did you warn them your favorite vegan was coming?”
“Not this time.” She smiled. “But have no fear.”
We made small talk for a minute before the waitress arrived. This was a different waitress than last time, and I could tell right away, she was another werewolf.
“Good evening, Ms. Burns,” the woman said.
“Hello, Jodie,” Elisabeth replied. “Ms. Young would like to see the vegan menu, please.”
“Of course,” the waitress said. “One moment.” The woman was gone only seconds before reappearing, sliding a single sheet of thick paper into my hands. “These are the items we guarantee to be vegan. Some of them appear on the main menu, and some are specific to this menu. Do you know what you would care to drink?”
She bustled away a moment later, and I turned to Elisabeth, waving the menu at her. “A vegan menu?”
She grinned. “It is very little trouble to have it available, and perhaps word will get around. I understand some of the choices are quite tasty, if you’re a rabbit.”
I frowned. “I’m not a rabbit, Elisabeth.” I said it sternly.
In response, she held her hands up defensively. “A little joke. Banter. Offense was not intended.”
“I’m not prey,” I added.
“Of course not. You’re right. I won’t say it again.”
I nodded. I shouldn’t have been that touchy. She had arranged the menu for me. So I apologized, then waved the menu. “This was sweet. Thank you.”
I looked through the menu. It wasn’t lengthy, but the choices actually sounded good. It took little time to make my decision. Jodie reappeared with our drinks and a basket of bread she assured me was vegan.
“It seems unlikely you get enough vegans to justify keeping vegan bread. Won’t it grow old?”
“We go through a lot of bread, and people eat this as much as anything else,” she explained. “We serve a few slices of a variety of breads, including this.”
We ordered and then busied ourselves with the bread and refreshments for a minute. Neither of us said anything. I think we both knew there would be a difficult conversation. I didn’t know how it was going to end. I wasn’t sure Elisabeth did, either.
Finally I couldn’t stand it anymore. “What are we doing?”
“Having dinner together.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” She didn’t say anything. “How embarrassed are you to be with me?”
“What?”
“Come on, Elisabeth. I’m the scaredy-human. Are the other…” I looked around. I thought perhaps we were far enough from the other tables no one would hear me, but I realized I shouldn’t assume. I started over. “Do your friends and family laugh about our relationship?”
“Zoe…”
“Do they?”
“There is some humor about some aspects.”
“Like what a wimp I am?”
“Like, no one understands being vegan. And there has been some conjecture over how a vegan will get along with an… um…”
“Avowed carnivore?”
“Exactly,” she said. “That conjecture grew louder when you left last night while we were hunting. Whether it’s true or not, people asked if you were mad that we went for a hunt.”
“I wasn’t mad,” I said. “But I don’t want to watch, either. Tell me, did you come home with blood on your… um…”
She looked away. “I’m not going to apologize for what I am.”
“I don’t believe I ever asked you to. I haven’t offered one single ounce of criticism over your dining habits. But that doesn’t mean I want to watch when it’s that primal.”
She turned back. “And is that what you would tell a natural wolf pack? That they can’t eat their natural food?”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t eat what you eat. I just said I don’t want to watch. Is it so important to you that I watch?”
“Maybe it’s important to me that you accept what I am.”
“I revel in what you are, Elisabeth.”
“Not all of it.”
I thought about it. “No, I guess not. But when I nearly wet my pants last night, did you revel in that, or were you disgusted?”
“I was disgusted,” she said right away. “But not at you. I was disgusted with myself.”
“Excuse me?”
“You s
hould have won,” she said. “The wager wasn’t whether I could scare you. The wager was whether you could allow Lara and me to jump over you without a poor reaction. Michaela should have declared me forfeit. I’m sorry.”
I stared at her, not sure how to respond. I lowered my eyes. “I’m sorry I thought the worst.”
“Why are you sorry?” she asked. “I portrayed the worst. And in a similar situation in the future, I’ll probably be just as bad.”
“Excuse me?”
“I told you before. I play to win. I’m driven to play to win, and I don’t seem to be able to hold back.”
I looked back up. “Um. Does that trait run in the family?”
“It runs amongst the most dominant members of the family. Lara is as bad as I am.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, then took a big breath and opened them. “What do you want to do?”
She looked away again.
“I know I’m not your dream girl,” I said. “You’re magnificent, Elisabeth. Amazing. Stunning. I don’t have enough adjectives. And you’re dating down.”
“I am not!” she said hotly. But she didn’t look at me.
“Look me in the eye and tell me I’m your equal.”
She turned to face me. “Zoe…”
“If you can’t do that, then tell me I’m Michaela’s equal.”
“Zoe,” she said, making it a whine.
“I’ve seen the way you look at her, Elisabeth,” I said. Her eyes widened, and I went on. “You want what your sister has. You want someone who measures up as highly as Michaela does. And we both know that’s not me. It will never be me. I’ll never run with you, not really. I’ll certainly never hunt with you. Everything we ever do, you’ll have to carry me. I’ll be your albatross, and the entire time, you’ll see your sister and sister-in-law, and you’ll grow to resent me.”
“Zoe…” it was another whine.
“Am I wrong?” I asked. “Tell me I’m wrong.” I looked at my hands. “Tell me you didn’t come here to break up with me.”
“I didn’t!” she said sternly. “I-”
Neither of us said anything for a while. The tension between us grew, and Jodie walked into it bringing our food. She set everything down quietly, asked us if we needed anything, and beat a hasty retreat.
I’d lost my appetite and ended up picking at my food, eating slowly. Elisabeth didn’t eat with her usual gusto, either. We ate silently for a while until I was just pushing my food around the plate, and Elisabeth was staring into space.