by Anne Douglas
Wait, his claw?
Pearl watched, fascinated as the claw morphed back into the short, tidy nails she knew he usually sported, then looked back up, mouth agape despite the big bite of burger she’d just shoveled in.
“Now, now, Miss Priss, you know better than to chew with your mouth open.” Her smart-arsed friend reached over and pushed her jaw shut with a clunk.
“Dave?” Pearl swallowed with an audible gulp and wondered if her eyes were goggling like a flabbergasted cartoon character’s.
“There’s not much need to keep my secret any longer.” Dave shrugged and smiled like he’d just gotten one up on her with the best joke in the world. “Welcome to the Other Side.”
Pearl looked side to side and saw that the counter was empty except for one woman down at the end who waved her tail in a friendly manner. Her tail. Oh crap.
“You know?” she hissed at Dave, and he nodded in reply. She set her burger down with a little whimper and pushed the plate away. “Everyone knows what happened over the weekend?”
“Yup.”
“Great. Just great.” She reached for the coffee the waitress had poured earlier, but Dave beat her to it; sweeping the mug away, he replaced it with a glass of milk. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“You shouldn’t drink caffeine.” Dave pushed the plate toward her again. “Don’t let your burger get cold; you’re eating for two now.”
Her horrified gasp was no doubt heard around the world. “Everyone knows I’m pregnant, too?”
“No, only those of us actually there know about the” ‑‑ Dave’s voice dropped to a whisper, and he leaned right into her ear ‑‑ “baby.”
“Rob asked us not to discuss it with anyone, though; he figured there was family who needed to know first, and that you and Rex needed some time to figure things out.”
He chuckled as she buried her head in her hands. “Oh God. Ohmigod, everyone knows.”
“You have to be fair, Pearl. It’s pretty hard to keep that kind of thing a secret in the Were community; other Weres can sense the beast in another. Plus, you caused quite a stir on Saturday.” Dave came around the counter and took a seat beside her. “I did my best, once I figured out it was you, to keep them off your tail.”
And there it was, the moment to make her misery complete. “You were there?” Then she thought back to what Dave had already said: only those who were there knew about the baby. Oh, just wonderful, Dave knew exactly what had happened up at that cabin. How freaking embarrassing.
“Uh huh ‑‑ the bobcat.” Strangely enough, that didn’t surprise her. Dave was a compact, wiry man with ginger hair that stuck out at all angles, just like the tufts of hair on his beast’s ears.
“Ah, thanks…that can’t have been easy. That wolf and jaguar looked twice your size.” All these years her friend had been running around in golden, spotted fur, and she hadn’t had a clue. It explained his frequent camping trips, though.
“Well, what they have on me in size, I’ve got all over them in cunning.” A devilish glint sparkled in his eye. “I loved it when you yanked on Jacob’s tail, by the way.” He patted her on the shoulder, awkwardly trying to give comfort. He muttered under his breath, “Pretentious ass had it coming.”
Dave stood up as the front bell dinged again, announcing the next wave of morning customers. “Oh well, back to work.” He reached around, pulled her plate forward again, and tapped the side. “Finish your burger; you need your protein.”
She managed not to gawp, but her eyes stayed wide as Dave whistled on his way back to the kitchen. Pearl pursed her lips ruefully when she recognized the tune ‑‑ Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.
* * * * *
Tuesday ‑‑ Rex checked his watch ‑‑ Ten a.m. and he’d been here since seven still catching up on the backlog from Saturday’s cancelled appointments. He was tired, grumpy, and a cat that had decided that a piece of cake full of fruits with a laxative effect was a great dietary choice had crapped all over him.
And he was horny.
Tired, grumpy, literally crappy, and just to top it all off, horny. What a great combo.
Rex clipped his cell phone onto the waist of his recently donned clean jeans, and after double-checking his pockets, dumped his soiled pants in the washing machine. “That damned bathroom was worth every cent.”
Accidents happened frequently in a vet practice, so when he’d purchased the building he’d spent an enormous amount of money installing a bathroom with two shower stalls, so two staff members could clean up at once if necessary. Today had been his day to use the facility.
“Hey, boss, there’s a Pearl Gordon on the phone for you, shall I transfer the call to your cell?” His assistant, Colleen, stood at the door with her hands over her eyes and her nose wrinkled up in disgust. “Phew, I think you might need to add some bleach. That stinks.”
Colleen had been working with him since she was thirteen. Her dream was to become a vet, and she was now in college earning her degree. She only worked for him during the holidays, and though she didn’t know it, he’d made a substantial donation to the school to fund part of her scholarship. He’d known the girl was going to be good at the tender age of sixteen; now at twenty-one she was shaping up to be an excellent veterinarian.
“It wasn’t wonderful from this side of the fabric either.” He sniffed his sleeve. His clothing was all new, but he’d swear the scent lingered. “And, yeah, transfer her through.”
Rex held back a laugh as he saw the glint of Colleen’s eyes as she peeked between her fingers, only to find he was fully dressed. Her hands dropped with a small sigh he was sure she didn’t expect him to hear before she left the room.
His phone chirped, and segued into a new ringtone. Rex laughed as he picked up the phone ‑‑ Colleen had reprogrammed it with Don’t Cha, by the Pussycat Dolls. Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me? It was a running joke. She programmed a new song just before he went somewhere ‑‑ like the supermarket ‑‑ then called him and managed to embarrass the hell out of him. Her timing was uncanny. Like when Call Me When You’re Sober sounded out while he’d been standing in the line at the liquor store. Colleen was the kid sister he’d never had.
Only this time it’d backfired ‑‑ his new…err…girlfriend?…was as hot as he could handle right at this moment, thank you very much.
Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me? Ha, if Colleen only knew…
“Pearl?”
“Hello, Rex, how are you?” The woman had a sexy phone voice: a little deep and husky, and with a slow, measured tempo. He figured she’d make a killing as a phone sex operator ‑‑ not that he was about to tell her that.
“Well…” He drew out the word as he figured out a way to say his day had been shitty ‑‑ no pun intended ‑‑ without coming off whiny. “It hasn’t been a great day so far. Are you calling to tell me you’re going to whisk me away from all my problems?” Maybe ‑‑ now that she’d called ‑‑ his crappy day might take a turn for the better.
Pearl gently laughed. He could imagine her sitting behind her desk, buttoned up in a suit, her hair primly back the way it had been Saturday morning, politely laughing so the rest of the office wasn’t aware she was making a personal call. “Well, I can’t guarantee that, but would lunch maybe make your day more acceptable?” Her already intimate voice dropped a little further into libidinousness, making certain parts of his anatomy perk right up out of their smell-induced slump.
“Lunch would be great.” He wanted to suggest his place, but since they’d made the decision to get to know one another ‑‑ at Pearl’s insistence ‑‑ suggesting he could eat her would no doubt be bad form. It didn’t stop his imagination from picking up the ball and running with it, though. A quick image of Pearl spread out on the table up at his cabin sprang to mind. “I’m still playing catch-up from the weekend, so I can only be gone an hour. Can we meet at The Italian Stallion on King Street
?”
“The
Italian Stallion?” There was true laughter in her voice now, along with a bit of shocked disbelief.
“Yeah, despite the name, it’s this little family-type place that has great pasta. I think I read on their menu that it was named after their great-grandfather who lived to a ripe old age and fathered about fourteen children.”
“Good Lord! His poor wife, she would have been worn out!”
“He probably wore out more than one.”
Pearl choked back a snort of laughter at his comment. “More than likely. So, midday, then? And will I be able to find this place easily?”
“Midday’s good. Look for a blue sign with a rearing black stallion, like on the Ferrari logo. It’s not big, but if you’re looking for it, you’ll find it easily enough.”
Pearl quickly made her good-byes, and soon enough he was left in stinky silence. He was a vet; bad smells weren’t anything new, but eh, that smell.
Moving into the hall, he turned toward the front desk and yelled out to Colleen. “Col, can you turn the AC on, please?”
Her sniggering was muted by the sound of the air conditioning starting up. Rex felt the slight breeze as he stood under one of the ducts. “Thank God, I’ve smelled bad smells before” ‑‑ disgust shivered down his spine, and he tried to work it out of his system with an exaggerated shimmy-shake and a face twisting “ewww” ‑‑ “but this is beyond gross.”
* * * * *
Pearl piled more pasta on top of what she’d already pushed to the left side of her plate, and hoped Rex wouldn’t notice that she’d only eaten four to five mouthfuls.
It was a beautiful fettuccine Alfredo. The sauce was divine and the pasta perfectly cooked, but her stomach was doing its best fighter pilot impression as it did high-G loop-the-loops. She’d bypassed the fizzy soda and the caffeine of a coffee, and ordered an unsweetened tea with the hope that the bland flavor would help settle the nausea.
Unfortunately, it hadn’t.
“Don’t you like it?” When she looked up, Rex was watching her curiously.
“It’s perfect…but my stomach’s not.” She had to swallow hard as she watched Rex stuff a large forkful of lasagna into his mouth. It was red and meaty. Cheeses, vegetables, and pasta fairly burst from the serving, making it look appetizing as well as healthy.
I think I’m going to hurl.
“Oh?”
“Ever since Saturday I’ve been starving. Yesterday I had this whopping big burger for breakfast of all things, but right now you couldn’t pay me to eat it.” Her deep, cleansing breath didn’t help much as her head was filled with the glorious smells of handmade pasta and sauces. Glorious, vomit-inducing smells. “Is there a Were-midwife or -doctor I can talk to about this pregnancy stuff? I looked the normal human stuff up on the Internet. All the things I’m feeling seem to be weeks ahead of schedule.”
Rex paused, fork halfway to his mouth, his eyes getting round as he inspected her face, which she suspected looked rather pale, if not in fact biliously green. “You’re really feeling sick, aren’t you?”
“Umm…” Pearl pushed back her seat and plotted the fastest way to the front door. “I need to get some fresh air.”
She was up and out the door before Rex had a chance to say anything more. Her car was parked right in front of the restaurant, but she couldn’t face the claustrophobic feeling of sitting in the car just yet, so she propped herself up against the bumper, leaning back ’til her butt hit the bonnet. With her eyes closed, she took more deep breaths, managing to force back the taste of her roiling stomach without hyperventilating and flaking out in the parking lot.
She heard the restaurant door swish open then clank shut, but didn’t open her eyes. She felt Rex’s presence as he stood in front of her. His big shoulders blocked the sunlight and put her into shadow.
“Pearl? Are you feeling better?” He sounded truly concerned, which if she hadn’t been feeling so doggoned sick to her stomach, would have made her feel nice.
Pearl hugged her arms to her chest and nodded, then realized her mistake. With her eyes closed, her brain felt like it was being buffeted about in a big bottle of blackness, where she couldn’t see the walls until she crashed into them. Her eyes popped open, frantically seeking a reference point to cling to while her brain stopped spinning.
What she saw were white plastic bags filled with polystyrene containers that obviously contained the remnants of their lunch ‑‑ Rex’d had their orders packed up to go. Her stomach gurgled its discontent.
“Pearl?” His worry was touching, and so were his hands. With horror, Pearl realized that Rex had grabbed her shoulder with a hand that still dangled a takeout bag from its wrist. The smell of the food hit her senses with the force of a freight train, and she lost all control she had on her stomach. With an inelegant “yurk,” she instinctively leaned forward and lost what little lunch she’d eaten, along with the remains of her breakfast…all over the front of Rex.
One more lurch and her stomach fully emptied itself, and she wiped the back of her hand over her mouth. “Oh, that feels so much better.” She reached out behind her for the car and used it as support as she stood upright again.
Rex hadn’t moved. He stood on the sidewalk in front of her, his arms out to the side, a plastic takeout bag dangling from each hand as he looked down at himself with what seemed to be fascinated disgust.
His jeans were soaked from the knees down and coated with half-digested lumps of food, but his sneakers had taken the worst hit. His feet fairly swam in a lake of vomit ‑‑ no doubt his socks would get squishy when they began to soak up the liquid.
“Ohmigod. Rex! Oh, I’m so sorry,” Pearl gasped out. Appalled at what she’d just done, her hand flew up to cover her mouth as she gaped in shock.
Rex sighed overdramatically as his feet squished in his shoes. “So much for turning my day around.”
The older, dark-haired gentleman that’d seated them at their table came rushing out of the restaurant with a bucket, and a kindly looking lady about the same age followed him with a bottle of water and a handful of damp napkins. With comments about his pregnant wife doing the same thing to him many years ago, and motherly pats and encouragement to drink, the pair proceeded to clean them up.
Her perverse digestive tract ‑‑ now emptied of what ailed it ‑‑ rumbled and told her it was now hungry. Pearl eyed the take out bags as she took another sip of water and wondered if Rex still wanted his lasagna.
Chapter Eleven
“You’re shitting me?” Shaun couldn’t have looked anymore shocked if she’d tried. “Werewolves really exist? Ohmigawd!”
Pearl watched as the stupefaction on Shaun’s face died a nasty death, slain by her rabid insatiability for all things weird and wonderful. Shaun’s eyes fairly glazed over, and had she been an animal ‑‑ oh, say, like her ‑‑ her tongue would have been hanging out as she panted with glee. Instead she was bouncing in her seat, squealing like a stalker fan girl who’d just cracked her favorite obsession’s alarm code.
“Shaun…” But Pearl’s interruption went unheeded.
“I was always sure they did, but now it’s really real. Oh. My. God. Pearl ‑‑ do you know what this means?”
“Shaun…” Shaun didn’t pause in her babbling when Pearl tried to interrupt again.
“What it means is that vampires are probably real, too! Are they real, Pearl? I mean, if anyone’s going to know it’s going to be you, right?” She made a moue of disappointment when Pearl shrugged her ignorance. Vampire, schmampire, she had enough on her plate already. “I’m going to have to spend more time at the cemetery hunting them down ‑‑”
“Shaun, stop, for goodness sake!” The verbal diarrhea dribbled to a stop as Shaun focused again on the here and now and fixated on Pearl again.
“What? This is big stuff, Pearl. B-I-G, big!” Shaun’s heavy gothic makeup was no match for the way her face had lit up, and Pearl wished she could harness a little of that glow for herself. She was feeling decidedly unglowy aft
er her last bout of afternoon sickness.
She spent her mornings stuffing herself full ’til she felt like she would burst, and the afternoons heaving it all back up again. She knew what the afternoon would bring, but couldn’t help herself.
“Yeah, it’s big, but did you hear the rest?”
“Ah, I kinda tuned out there for a bit.” Shaun’s feet moved restlessly against the floor, and Pearl knew Shaun was itching to wiggle out her excitement at having finally gotten proof that paranormals existed. This was her personal Area 51.
“I said I’m expecting.”
“Expecting what?”
Pearl sighed and wondered if she’d ever get a lick of sense out of Shaun today. She really needed someone to talk to, and Shaun was it. “You know…I’ve got a bun in the oven.”
“I can’t smell anyth ‑‑ Oooh…” Shaun’s eyes got round, and even her foot stopped tapping. “You’re pregnant. Wow.” Her final exclamation was delivered with awe.
Pearl’s shoulders slumped, her grin rather wry as she nodded. “Yeah, I’m having a baby.”
This week had rated right up there with losing her mother in terms of stress; accepting there were paranormals in the world was a piece of cake compared to trying to accept the fact that she was pregnant. Her mother had been a taskmaster, yet Pearl had loved her, and could only wish she was here now to ask if she’d felt this overwhelming fear of failure when she’d found out she was pregnant with Pearl.
Then Shaun asked the question Pearl had been dreading giving the answer to. “But…who’s the father?”
“Ahh…you know how I made that appointment to see your neighbor about the dog problem I had on Saturday?”
“Oh, Pearl. You didn’t?” Shaun had reverted back to her overactive self again as she bounced on the spot and clapped her hands. “That guy Friday night and then Rex Dixon? All in one weekend? You go, girl!” She broke off and bit her bottom lip as she realized, “Oh. Oh Lord, Rex is the one that knocked you up, isn’t he? But it’s only been, what, four or five days. Are you sure you’re preggers?”