Growl for Me

by Alice Bello

  ###

  It didn’t matter that we ran to get in line. The place was packed, so the line for the concession stand was huge. I had skipped dinner in my crying jag, and though the workers were churning the customers out with real speed, my tummy growled and growled the whole while.

  I was practically drooling by the time we were close enough to ogle the food.

  They had square pizza by the slice, fresh out of the fryer corn dogs, every candy imaginable and…

  My goodness…

  An old-time popcorn machine that when turned on gurgled and popped until the top shot open and a cascade of yummy smelling popcorn fell out into the glass receptacle.

  I’d like to say I showed some decorum and self-restraint… but I’m a werewolf and I was freaking starving!

  Large popcorn: check.

  Three pieces of pepperoni pizza: check.

  A corndog: double check—you can’t just have one!

  A bag of gummy bears the size of my foot: check.

  And a cherry pop bigger than my head: check.

  Benjamin got himself a full eight slice pizza and three corn dogs.

  We ended up sharing the popcorn.

  The first movie was the one about the supervillain turned good guy.

  Supervillain turned good guy?

  Really?

  It sounded so lame.

  But by the time I was done scarfing down my pizza and the corn dogs I was smiling and laughing and thoroughly engaged. That’s when we shared the popcorn, and I ended up sucking down more than half that super-sized cherry pop.

  Our hands touched once in a while as we shared the popcorn, but I was either too weary or engrossed in the movie to properly care.

  By the third act, where the big bad threat shows up from outer space, and the original hero of the movie turns out not to be dead, just hiding out because he’s tired of saving the world, I’d opened the bag of gummy bears.

  Oh. My. Gosh.

  They were the best darn gummy bears I’d ever eaten.

  Each flavor burst in my mouth. And they were soft and moist too.

  Benjamin tried to steal one and I pulled the bag out of his reach.

  That was until he gave me puppy dog eyes and a little doggie whine.

  I was half afraid he would do a wolf howl if I didn’t let him have some, so I caved.

  Being a drive-in, people felt free to laugh, to heckle some of the campier portions of the film, and to play frisbee when the end credits started to roll.

  I took the intermission to go stand in line for the ladies’ room. Another long line.

  But I did hear some interesting gossip about a woman named Sadie and her long-running affair with a doctor over in Stillwater Falls.

  “It’s the only thing that keeps either of them married to their respective spouses,” one woman said.

  “Yeah, but if they’re not happy in their marriages, then why don’t they just get divorced and marry each other?” said a redhead with a pair of miraculous, gravity-defying breasts.

  “The doctor has kids,” the first woman said as they moved into the cramped confines of the ladies room. “Plus,” she stage-whispered this next part, “hello… they belong to two different clans.”

  The third woman in their little group chimed in then. “I heard they’re waiting for the kids to get older and then they’re gonna get matching divorces and then join our clan.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” the redhead said.

  As they came out the redhead said, “Did you hear about that biker gang out in Cedar County? I hear they’ve been tearing up every town they come to.”

  The first woman scoffed. “They better stay away from here if they know what’s good for them. The Abrams bothers will eat them alive.”

  A little shiver ran through me as I went in and locked myself in a stall. I didn’t know if it was the thought of a rogue biker gang tearing up towns in their wake, or whether it was the thought of the sheriff eating them.

  Oh, and he had a brother—the Abrams brothers.

  Maybe they would be the ones to put me out of my misery when the time came?

  I peed, washed my hands and then headed back to the car. The movie started seconds after I fell into the passenger seat. I was suddenly so tired.

  I leaned over and rested my head against Benjamin’s arm. The movie started and I fell fast asleep. The last thing I remembered was breathing in Benjamin’s familiar, comforting scent.

  Chapter 6

  My alarm clock was bleating at me from across the room.

  I so didn’t want to get out of bed.

  I sat up straight as if I was a spring-loaded jack-in-the-box.

  I was in bed.

  I had been at the drive-in movies with Benjamin.

  And now I was in my room, in my own bed.

  Alone.

  I looked down and found I was still in the clothes I had been wearing yesterday.

  I pulled back the covers and saw my shoes were off, but my socks were still on.

  Benjamin was so sweet. He had carried me up here and put me to bed, and left all my clothes on.

  Part of me, right then, wanted that man to undress me someday—someday soon.

  That was never going to happen.

  It couldn’t.

  I couldn’t.

  I fell back on the bed and tried to push the thought of being with Benjamin out of my mind. But I ended up clinging to the warmth of that thought, like a moth to a flame.

  I pulled myself up and out of bed, padded out into the hallway and to the bathroom.

  After using the facilities and brushing my teeth, I decided to go down and eat breakfast/lunch… whatever it was. My wolfy metabolism had already burned right through all the stuff I’d pigged out on last night, and my tummy was growling again.

  I went downstairs and caught the smell of fresh coffee halfway down the stairs. Then I smelled sausage and eggs.

  I entered the kitchen, enveloped in the smell of melted cheddar and fried potatoes.

  And biscuits.

  But I didn’t see any food.

  That’s when an alarm went off on the oven and Benjamin came trotting in the back door.

  And he was stunning to behold.

  Old faded jeans with some small tears and oil stains, work boots and no shirt.

  Sure, I’d seen him naked before, back when he and Roxy were trying to help me shift. But I had been so stressed, it had been so far away from being sexy.

  But…

  Benjamin shirtless and sweating… and smeared with grease and sawdust.

  Gulp.

  He was beautiful.

  “Hey, sleepy head,” he said as he went right to the oven, pulled on a pair of oven mitts, pulled open the oven door and then extricated a pan of biscuits and a rectangular baking pan that looked to have everything I’d been smelling inside it.

  “What is that?” I asked, trying not to ogle his shiny, flexing torso any more than I already had.

  Was I starting to drool because of the food or the man?

  Sweet baby Jesus… a little help here?

  Benjamin had two dinner plates out and was already slicing out two giant pieces of whatever it was he’d made.

  “It’s called breakfast casserole.” He brought the two plates to the kitchen table, set them down and then went back to throw the biscuits on a separate plate.

  “Smells like you put everything in a bowl and mixed it up.”

  He snickered. “Close. You start with some fried potatoes—I like hash-browns best. Then mix up some sausage, eggs and cheese, a splash of milk and then pour it over the potatoes.”

  Okay, that sounded like a mess.

  “Bake for about forty-five minute and you’ve got ambrosia.”

  Ambrosia… the food of the gods.

  I wasn’t sure taking all the components of a breakfast and throwing them in a blender was the same thing as ambrosia.

  Benjamin caught my tentative look. “Sit down and try it before you
go all food judge on me.

  I sighed and shrugged. He had a point. I hadn’t tried it. Plus it smelled really good.

  Maybe this was like some kind of breakfast stew?

  I grabbed a mug and filled it with coffee, then took a seat across from Benjamin.

  He was already tucked into eating, and since he hadn’t instantly fallen over from food poisoning, I grabbed one of his fresh baked biscuits and, cracked it open and slathered butter on it. I took a big bite and luxuriated in the taste.

  Benjamin knew his way around baking a biscuit.

  Now for the breakfast casserole.

  I took my fork, cut off a small bite and popped it in my mouth.

  “Now chew,” Benjamin said, a smirk on his face.

  I rolled my eyes at him as I started to chew.

  Wow…

  I stabbed my fork into the breakfast casserole and shoved a bigger piece into my mouth.

  It was one of the best things I’d ever had. It was just…

  I took another bite.

  “Miss es sooo goon!” I proclaimed through a full and happy mouth.

  Benjamin smiled while I stuffed my face full of his amazing breakfast casserole.

  ###

  After I ate my weight in breakfast casserole I had about an hour and a half to get ready for work. A shower, a nice t-shirt, and my newest jeans, a scrunchy to pull back my hair and a light dusting of makeup.

  Not that makeup was going to do any good. I’m turning gray. Everyone can see that.

  But still, I had to try.

  Maybe he wouldn’t remember how gray I was last time he saw me.

  Lauren had bullied him into hiring me. I know that. And in a way, I’m beholden to her. To go so far out of your way for someone you hardly even know.

  Lauren was good people.

  I wished, more than anything else on this earth that I knew, for certain, I still was.

  I think I was a good person before the evil wolfman bit me.

  Benjamin is a good person. That I am certain of.

  What happened to him before wasn’t his fault.

  Getting bit wasn’t your fault either…

  When I went downstairs Benjamin had made me a bagged lunch: Three PB&J sandwiches, a bag of Doritos, a pack of strawberry Twizzlers, a brownie and a bottle of fruit punch.

  Okay, it was a pretty big bag, but we’re werewolves. We eat like werehogs.

  He was waiting on the porch, nonchalantly cutting his fingernails with his pocket knife.

  No matter how many times I see him do it, I can’t help but cringe.

  “One of these days you’re going to cut one of those off.”

  He smiled, his attention to what he was doing not wavering in the least.

  “I’ve been doing this, with this very knife, since I was six years old.”

  I suddenly wanted to ask how old he really was.

  He looked like he was twenty-five years old. When he was stressed or tired, he could pass for being in his early thirties.

  But I’d never had the nerve to ask.

  I took a breath to ask, but when I opened my mouth not a word came out.

  I stood there, watching him cutting his fingernails down, and then he said, “I’m seventy-seven—maybe seventy-eight years old. I was born right after the Depression ended.”

  I blinked a few times at his admission. The Depression ended in 1939.

  Oh boy…

  Maybe seventy-eight years old.

  “You don’t know how old you are?”

  He looked up at me. His eyes were so light blue they were like pieces of sky.

  “Back then things got lost easily, families with a lot of children didn’t keep the most meticulous records. I was the second of three sons, all born less than a year apart. My younger brother died a month or two after he was born. Plus I had two sisters.”

  “Oh, gosh… I’m such a dummy. I didn’t mean to dredge up something painful.”

  He pocketed his knife, pushed himself up from the porch steps and moved to right in front of me.

  “It’s good to remember,” he rasped, tucking an errant strand of my hair back behind my ear. “After so long, it’s all too easy to forget.”

  “I could use some forgetting right about now.”

  He shook his head. “No, that you really don’t want.”

  I really wanted to reach out and touch him.

  But I didn’t.

  I needed to get to work. It wouldn’t do to be late on my first day.

  “I’ve gotta get going.”

  He nodded and looked me deep in the eye. “I’m fixing some plumbing about five minutes drive from Jerry’s, so call if you need me.”

  “I will.”

  He scrubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “I’ll probably pop in on my break.”

  “Not here even forty-eight hours yet and we both have jobs.”

  He sighed. “Guess we’re just a couple of go-getters.”

  I scowled at him. “Don’t go spreading that around. I have a reputation to consider.”

  His smile slid off his face as he just stared at me.

  We were breathing in unison. We were mere inches apart.

  And with a quick, shy motion he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.

  “Don’t work too hard.”

  “I…” I have no idea what I was going to say.

  Instead, I leaned forward, took the man by the head and very deliberately kissed him on the lips.

  I hadn’t really planned to. I didn’t think I’d end up kissing him for so long as I had.

  All I know is by the time we stopped I was pressed against the outer wall of the house, and I was barely able to stand on my own.

  “Holy cow,” I said as the sheer force of what had just happened hit me.

  I kissed Benjamin.

  Benjamin had kissed me.

  This was utterly insane.

  “I’ve got to go,” I mumbled, and then leaned up and kissed his lips one more time. He tasted even better the second time around. Plus his hands were on my hips while his body pressed against mine.

  I was breathless when I said, “I really have to go.”

  “You really do.” He kissed my knuckles as he held my hands up to his face.

  And ever so slowly I moved toward and then past where he was standing, watching me with rapt attention.

  There were so many things I should’ve said, things I could’ve said and needed to say.

  But I couldn’t say anything else. I was, quite literally, speechless.

  I bent and picked up my bagged lunch—which I’d dropped the instant his lips had touched mine.

  On shaky legs, I staggered down the front porch steps and out to my car.

  I dropped into the driver’s seat, laid the bag on the passenger seat and started my car.

  Chapter 7

  I thought waiting tables was complicated. From the computerized ordering system to the menu, cashing customers out, splitting checks, side work and learning how fast each cook was so you put your orders in fast enough not to get complaints and being able to give a table enough time to eat their appetizers before the main course came out.

  But that job had NOTHING on the many, many responsibilities and skills you needed to run a gas station/convenience store.

  My first day with Jerry was a complete, nerve-racking blur.

  The computer system was similar to the one I used at my old job, but the menu… well, it was everything in the store and a few things not in the store. And the electronic gas system was daunting. He had six pumps. Credit and debit cards used at the pump were nothing.

  But cash or credit in store…

  That required using both computer systems and that… was…

  I know time really doesn’t pass at different speeds. Rationally, I know when time crawls along, it’s just human perspective.

  But my hours on the register felt like a full week, with intermittent bouts of Chinese water torture.

  After a while
of doing that, and the five o’clock rush hour, Jerry got to show me some of the other things I’d need to do.

  Cleaning restrooms. Stocking cups—oh my goodness, if there was anything I would probably dream about that night more than the cash register would be filling all those cups. Small cups, medium and large cups, super-sized cups, and then the multiple sizes of coffee cups. And the lids.

  The lids were insidious. They were so much harder to get into the dispensing slots than the cups.

  Then I was introduced to the self-serve pop machines, coffee and espresso machines, and the super latte machine that was “our best seller nowadays.”

  Miles of tubes, multiple tanks of different gases used to pump the liquids out, and the refill bags for all the flavors.

  The coolers looked simple enough, but it turned out you stocked them from the inside. There was a chilled room behind the coolers, and that was where to take the new stock and…

  Oh heavens… how was I going to remember all this?

  When we were done with that, then Jerry showed me how to stock the dry goods, like chips and pretzels and candy and gum and condoms…

  I’m sure I turned a few shades of red when we came to that.

  And live bait.

  Okay, I’m a city girl. Even before moving to the “big city” for college, my little town was, well, it was a little town, and I was the quintessential band geek/book geek… geek.

  Luckily the bait was in little plastic containers, individually labeled, and luckily in non-see-through containers.

  And right after the live bait exhibit, it was lunchtime.

  I couldn’t imagine I’d be hungry at that point, but due to my wolfy, shifter metabolism I was ravenous. I grabbed my bagged lunch from the cooler room—there was a little shelf in there for employee stuff—and headed outside. I’d been in air conditioning the whole day, and I was yearning for some fresh air.

  I got that, and a lot of car exhaust and gas fumes.

  And I got Benjamin.

  He was waiting by my car, another paper bag in his hand.

  I didn’t even ask why he was there.

  Of course, he was there. No mystery there.

  “What’s in the bag?” I did ask.

  “Nothing,” he said coyly, “just some cheese sticks from Carly’s.”