by Ceves, Nina
Later, I read:
* * *
“Me and you, Silas… how? How is this going to work?” Sera’s expression was troubled, yearning. She reached out a hand, tentatively touching his broad shoulder.
“Hey, one of these lifetimes we’re bound to get lucky. I figure, why not this one?” Silas shook his black and silver hair back from his face, grinning. Sera smiled back, despite her worry.
“This is crazy,” she said in exasperation. “We’ve got a whole bunch of dark siders after us, our very souls are at risk, and oh, yeah, the entire balance of good and evil rest on our shoulders. And here I am, freaking out about that, but underneath, just thinking… thinking about you. And me.” She turned away, her lower lip trembling.
“Hey,” Silas waited. She kept resolutely away from him, quickly wiping her eyes.
He was at her side in an instant, turning her face up gently so he could see her face.
“I… I become completely frantic when you cry,” he said, angrily. “It’s the worst thing.”
“I’m not crying!” Sera frowned.
“They can’t win every time,” he said quietly, with conviction. He pulled her closer, his arms bringing her tight against him. “I’m never giving up. I’ll hope and pray enough for the two of us. If you’ll just fight by my side, Sera, if you believe in me, in us.”
“I will. And, I do,” whispered Sera, as she reached up to kiss him.
Their kiss held all the passion and promise and hope one kiss could ever hold.
* * *
Greta
I got almost all the way to work, and then I did something I’d never done before. I pulled over, and called in sick. I know it was wrong, but I lied. I said I must have picked up the stomach virus that was going around.
“Did you throw up?” asked Luisa, sympathetically. She was a new infant teacher, and she would take over for me today.
“Yeah,” I lied, feeling guilty.
“Maybe you are pregnant,” she said, and I heard the smile in her voice, that sweet Mexican accent. She didn’t know. She didn’t mean anything hurtful by it. The other people I worked with knew about my infertility. I felt that I had to tell them, so there wouldn’t be moments like this very one.
“I’ve got to go,” I whispered, and ended the call.
I sat in my car for what felt like just a few moments, but when I looked at my phone, I saw an hour had gone by.
I wanted to call Ben, but I didn't want to bother him at work.
I wished things were different between me and my mom, so I could call her.
I wished I could call my friends, but they were either on their second kid, or very single, and I just didn’t feel as though I could unburden myself to them. I thought of Patrick, but we had just started to become friends about a year ago, and then hadn’t been in touch. He had his own stuff to deal with, also.
I called Mac.
Ben
“You don’t drink coffee!” Alma’s voice was incredulous.
“He’s drinking coffee?” Scott’s voice was alarmed.
“Do we have any Tums?” asked Laura, worriedly.
No boundaries.
I kept my face resolutely down, looking into my coffee, and held out my hand. It shook. I balled it into a fist and pulled it back under the break room table.
By that time, they’d pulled out chairs and sat with me.
“What’s going on?” Scott asked.
“More of the same,” I said, curtly. “Just, didn’t sleep that much.”
“What can we do?” asked Alma, tentatively.
“What can I do? Guys, you think I should get Greta a present? She’s upset. I can’t… I don’t know what to do.”
“Flowers? Candy?” Laura shrugged. “It really is the thought that counts. She’ll know you were thinking of her, that’s all.”
“Maybe, yeah. Or maybe I should get her a kitten,” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes tiredly.
“A kitten!” Alma clapped her hands. “With a bow!”
Scott snapped his fingers. “Spa day. For Patrick and Greta! Spa day! And what about a little shopping, first? I swear, getting you set up with some new- to -you clothes was the only time I’ve seen him remotely happy in ages. He would love to do some shopping with Greta.”
“Okay,” I said, “Spa… what, like mud baths?
Scott rolled his eyes. “Just let me make the arrangements. I’ll get two gift certificates for this Saturday, how about that?”
“Thanks, sure, just tell me what I owe you.”
Scott went back to his office and I poured the rest of my coffee down the kitchen sink.
“We’re not out of your green tea, are we?” Alma sounded stressed.
I tried to smile at her and Laura, sorry for being such a pain in the ass.
“I’m good,” I said awkwardly, “I’ll just get back to work.”
The day dragged on.
On the way home, I thought about picking up flowers, but I worried that flowers were sometimes given to people when they were sick. I didn’t want Greta thinking that I thought she was sick.
I was probably over-thinking things.
I pulled into our parking lot and called my mom. I knew she’d still be up, she was a night owl.
“Is anything wrong,” she said calmly the moment she picked up.
“No, gosh, Ma, I’m sorry,” I said. We took turns calling each other almost every Friday morning, my time.
“Okay, no emergency, but something is wrong, I hear it in your voice,” she said.
“I just… really miss Dad right now,” I ground out. “And you. You’re the only one who misses him, the way I do. I mean, I know it’s different. But, still.”
“The two of you, my two guys,” she said softly. “I loved how close you were.”
“The two of you, too,” I said, tightly. “The three of us.”
“Yes,” she said on a sigh.
We sat in silence, together. I watched the Sandia mountains disappear into the darkness. Sometimes, there’s nothing to say, but the important thing is, saying nothing, together. I could see some stars, although it was still overcast. I looked down at my left hand, at my gold wedding band. It was my father’s. Greta wore a matching one, that had belonged to my mother. I cleared my throat.
“Okay,” I said, finally.
“It will be,” she said quietly.
Inside, Greta was in her pajamas on the couch, a box of pizza in front of her.
“Mm, smells so good,” I said.
“That’s what he said,” she said, her mouth full.
I stared at her, my mouth slowly opening. Then I fell onto the couch next to her, laughing so hard. She just kept chewing her big mouthful of pizza, smirking at me.
“It’s gluten free and I got half dairy free,” she said, muting the television. I tried to stop laughing, but it felt so good.
“Sorry I…” She looked at me. “Sorry I lost it last night.”
I shook my head. “Don’t be sorry, hon. You… Are you… okay?”
She nodded and smiled sadly. “I took the day off. I talked with Mac. She is such a wise child. She said that what I experienced last night was from trauma, that it was really normal. That made me feel better, to hear that.”
I nodded. That made sense, even though I would have never thought about it that way.
“She said, too, that even though last night was awful, it was a good thing. Because it means… I’m healing. And on the other side of those triggered moments of horribleness? Feeling even better, eventually.”
I felt a little better, hearing that, and I told her so, kissing her hand.
I ate some pizza and watched some television with her, feeling better than I had since last night.
Later, Greta read to me:
* * *
“Where were you?” Sera exploded, her hands on her hips.
“She missed me,” drawled Silas, opening his arms, waving her in for an embrace.
She stamped her foot. “I
had no idea where you were. Do you know how worried I was?”
“Sera, I’m a shifter. I’ve traveled through lifetimes, through space and time. And you’re worried about me in Salem, Massachusetts?” He looked uncertain whether to be irritated or touched, caught between a frown and a smile.
“I dreamed you into here and now! With my magic! I feel responsible, don’t you get it? What if, what if you got lost or started to, I don’t know, shift or something? You don’t even have any money!” She gestured in frustration and turned to the counter. She had made dinner, and had just been about to put it all away, not knowing where he was.
“Here’s what I was doing today,” he said quietly, pulling items out of his jacket pocket. “I’ve got identification, a license, a bank account, a phone, oh, and a job, I got one of those, too.”
“What?” Incredulously, she looked at the things in his hand. “How on earth did you…?”
“I’m crafty,” he grinned, cheekily, raising his eyebrows.
Sera stared at him, unable to comprehend all he had accomplished in one day. There he stood, taking up so much space in the little kitchen, emanating a thrilling, conflicting combination of something feral and domestic.
“A job? What?”
“They said it was called being an, oh, what is the term? An escort. So, I presume I’ll be escorting people from one place to another. Not quite sure about the ins and outs of it, they said they’d fill me in next week. Hm, escorting tourists, perhaps?”
“Silas! Oh my God, no! That’s…” she sputtered, until she stopped, catching the devilish look on his face. “You’re kidding me. I’m going to kill you. Stop kidding around!”
“I’m a wildlife rehabilitation specialist, at the Peabody Essex Wilderness Sanctuary. Fitting, wouldn’t you say?” He put his hands on his hips and rocked back on his heels, his eyes sparkling.
“Wow!” She stared at him.
“I was starting my new life, today, that’s all,” he said, seriously. “My new life, here, with you.”
“Silas.” She was in his arms.
After a long moment, she looked up into his face. “So, what’s your new name?”
“Silas, always,” he smiled, “and my last name is Fox, of course.”
He went over to the counter.
Sera looked at his license, smiling. “All right, Mr. Fox.”
“Figured if the name fits…” He grinned over his shoulder, looking at the food that Sera had made.
They got some food, heated it, and sat down together.
“Silas, I’m sorry I freaked out,” she said, after a while.
“No, I’m sorry I didn’t check in. I’ll make sure we have each other’s numbers. Sera, be patient with me, yeah?”
“Oh, Silas, I think you are the one who will have to be patient with me. I was realizing today, there’s so much I don’t know about you. So much I don’t know about your life, what it’s like to be a shifter. Will you… shift? Will I have a warning?”
“I’ll tell you everything, anything,” he promised, holding her hand.
“Will you curl up on my lap?” She started laughing, a little hysterically.
“What?” Silas looked outraged.
Sera snorted, laughing. “If you shift! Would you be a fox the perfect size for my lap?”
“I will have you know,” he said with dignity, “that when I shift, I’m a fox about the size of a grizzly bear.”
She stopped laughing suddenly, her mouth dry. She felt frightened. Silas suddenly seemed so… other. He looked steadily into her eyes. That fear faded, and she was left feeling only… enchanted. She swallowed, with difficulty.
“I’ll bet,” she said softly, “that you are absolutely stunning.” She stroked his long hair, loosening it from its leather tie. She ran her fingers through its black and silver length, slowly, again and again. He closed his eyes.
* * *
“Wait,” I said. “He’s not a werewolf? How’d I miss that?”
“It’s in chapter three,” said Greta, looking down at her Kindle.
“Uh, good memory much? Wow. I must have missed it, going back and forth between this series and the Caspian books, and with us taking turns reading, too.”
Greta nodded, still looking down.
“Hey, cool.” I said. “Same last name as us: Fox.”
She nodded.
“How about I read some, you’re probably tired,” I held my hand out for the Kindle.
She handed it to me, not meeting my eyes.
Greta
Ben read:
* * *
Sera wound his hair into her fist and tugged gently, sliding onto his lap. His eyes opened, slightly. He reached up to hold her waist, pushing his hands under her shirt. He pulled her close so that Sera’s legs could lock around him. She caught her breath. He stood up and carried her to the couch.
He gently pulled her shirt and tank top off, then lifted her and set her down on the couch. He began to unbutton her pants.
“Silas, hurry,” she moaned. He was being so gentle and deliberate.
“I’m in such a rush, you have no idea,” he said, his jaw clenched. “I don’t want to hurt you by being clumsy in my haste.”
He continued undressing her slowly.
“Uh, hon? Could you take my socks off, too? I think I look so weird naked but with my thick socks.”
Silas stopped, staring at her. He looked at her feet and then sat back, covering his face, laughing.
“Well, I just do,” she said crossly, sitting up and pulling her socks off. “There.”
“Better?” he asked, more than a hint of laughter in his voice.
“Much,” she said, satisfied. “Now I can be all socklessly sexy.”
“So, socks are not sexy?” asked Silas.
“No, not when I’m naked except for the socks. That looks weird.”
“How did we start talking about socks?” He was laughing again.
Sera stretched out on the couch again, glaring humorously, and he stopped laughing. In the space of a heartbeat, he was on her, kissing her, pressing his body against her.
* * *
I waited, holding my breath.
“Socklessly sexy?” Ben looked up slowly from the Kindle, smiling in a puzzled way. “That’s so familiar. That’s… Greta, you said that. That’s what you said.”
“I wrote that,” I said quickly, looking at his face.
“No, you said that. I remember. We joked about socks before. More than once. Socklessly sexy. Remember?”
I nodded. “I wrote that.”
Ben
“You wrote that? What… what do you mean?”
Greta stood up, twisting her hands together. She paced in front of me, while I looked on, bewildered. She stopped directly in front of me and crossed her arms.
“I… wrote… it.” Her voice shook.
“Wait a minute… Silas Fox. Our last name, Fox… the socks. I sound like Dr. Seuss. What the… Greta?”
She nodded, mute, her eyes pleading.
“Wait, what?” I asked, shaking my head.
“I …” She swallowed.
“Wait, just wait… you’re the author?”
She nodded.
“Mireya Santos? You?” I stared at Greta.
She nodded, opened her mouth, and closed it.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, sitting back, frowning. I felt confused, tricked.
“It was my secret,” she moaned, sitting down. “I kept trying to think of a way to tell you. But it had been my secret for too long.”
I felt mad, but not completely over the top angry. I always found it hard to stay mad at her. Her eyes implored me, so blue with tears trembling on the lashes. I started to grin despite the feelings of confusion and betrayal.
“What the …?” I laughed, rubbing my eyes.
She smiled tentatively.
“That’s why you didn’t say the Silas books were your favorite. Because you wrote them.” I couldn’t believe it.
She nodded. “Can you imagine how thrilling it was for me to hear you say you liked them better than the Caspian books?” She rolled her eyes upward, sighing in pleasure.
“I…” I just stared at her, trying to form words. “I’m rapid cycling through feeling mad at you for not telling me, impressed as heck that you’ve written these books, and completely turned on,” I admitted.
Greta bit down on her lips, trying not to laugh. “Lots of feelings,” she said.
“But it’s as though you tricked me. All these nights, reading together.” I frowned.
“I am so sorry.” She looked very upset. “Every single night, I told myself to tell you. Every day! And then, I just felt embarrassed. I swear, I didn’t mean to trick you. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just got used to keeping Greta and Mireya separate, and it was completely messing with my brain having my two worlds collide. I kept telling myself: tomorrow night. Tell him. I rehearsed how to say it, Ben! Casually, seriously, sexily… I tried out how to tell you! And then I’d get swept away, and would forget, just lost in the story. And then, I would start stressing about it all over again. Once we got to the socks comment, yeah, I knew my secret was out, the way it should be. The way it should have been, all along.”
I just stared at her, rubbing my forehead. What could I say?
She waited, looking at me, biting her lip.
“You read the rest,” I said, sitting back, my hands behind my head, getting comfortable. Listen to Greta.
“No, oh, Ben. No,” she said, blushing.
“Read, Mrs. Fox. Read.”
* * *
“You’ve got way too many clothes on,” murmured Sera, as he kissed her neck. He slid his arms beneath her and turned her over so she was face down on the couch.
“It helps me,” he whispered, stroking her hair to one side, kissing the back of her neck. He bit her there, softly, and kissed her again.