Page 54 of Shifting Years
A blast of cheesy bread smell around baked chicken assaulted my nose. With massive willpower, I held in a previous meal as she scooped warm casserole onto plates with a careful look. Bland rice, dry toast, or crackers were my normal meals, but I could do this. With tiny bites, we ate and made small talk, while ensuring I didn't ruin a nice visit.
If I could do that, I could do the same for Todd.
Just endure bit by bit, until he comes back from war.
He will come back.
He has to…
***
Another day and a truck passed in front of the cabin. From the familiar grease smell, it was the sheriff's, although young Wyatt might be driving. In another life, he might be the kid brother I never had. There was a nice thought.
Looking out for kids.
The sixties didn't turn out quite like I thought, but the lessons were sound. Peace, brotherhood, and stretching your mind. All the things I'd teach our little pup. Todd would add his thoughts, and we'd be better together.
Those two words repeated in my mind while I went out for the mail. Townsfolk sometimes brought the letters, but if I hurried, I could beat them. Some things I needed to do myself, especially if outside. The cabin was decent, and I had a television.Lidsvillehad a psychedelic feel, and I watchedThe Electric CompanyandSesame Streetfor our unborn child because I'm sure he could sense it.
But I couldn't sit inside all day.
The paper scent wafted out from behind semi-rusted metal. It opened with a squeak and something told me Todd would have fixed it, given his 'let me take care of it' nature.
And that was why he left—to protect us.
I looked down and there was something wonderful in my hand. A long sniff told me my man held it. Oh, it mixed with paper pulp and glue, but I couldn't forget his warm musk.
Despite the gift, I don't like letters. One said my father wouldn't come back. Another was taped to our door in LA and impliedthingsabout me in high school. Now it was messages during wartime.
The folded paper was addressed to Stacy, a necessary evil so we could share the important things. Talking about my pregnancy sounded like complaining, but he wanted to know about my symptoms like my itchy skin, waking up at two in the morning, and hearing phantom baby cries. I supposed he was tired of the day-to-day routine and had to hear aboutanything,not army life.
I read the subtext. The fear was there from him and his squad, but they expected the war would be over soon. He ended it with love, addressed to a girl who didn't exist, but the feeling was real.
The folded paper stayed against my chest for over a minute while I smiled and let a few tears fall. If Todd could endure a sped-up boot camp and go fight, I could do this.
Then I'll welcome my man back.
I imagined Todd and me at a restaurant. Our restaurant. White tablecloths, warm lighting, and a little place tucked away where we could be just another couple. We'd order food like we weren't the ones who made it. I'd be pregnant again, sipping juice while Todd pulled out my chair like the gentleman he was. Knowing him, he'll be concerned as I sat down. I'd drink no wine and be a good Omega, but I'm sure I'll have strange cravings like tuna and chocolate.
He'd have his grocery store, and we'd talk without a mythical 'Stacy' between us.
The visual burst like a soap bubble with images of hot bullets tearing into his flesh. Sometimes in daydreams, he died and bled to death in murky, green water. Other times he was in a small box, and I hoped it wasn't a coffin.
I cradled my stomach as I returned to the cabin, forcing better memories to take hold.One day at a time. Just wait for him, and he'll be back soon.
***
Time passed, as did my scheduled delivery date. The triple speed meant I was equal to two weeks past if I were female. People came by constantly, and the phone had a long cord. If I went into labor, I'd be fine.I think. Whispering Hills didn't have a permanent doctor, which was incredibly stupid, but some shifters knew how to deliver.
Penny's light-blue Volkswagen Beetle pulled into the driveway, but Mary was behind the wheel. I studied her serious face, looking foranything.Maybe Henry did something since he disappeared and came back with military police. He was evil, but patient.
But he can't overpower two witches, right?
Mary's a tall woman, and it was almost comical when she stepped out of the tiny, curved car. Today, she wore a thin, white sweater, and burgundy flared-out jeans at the bottom.
I waved hello, but she didn't meet my eyes as she reached into my mailbox, pulling out advertisements and a newspaper. There hadn't been letters from Todd in a while, but other wolves with military experience said it was normal. I had to believe them. Without a word, she handed me an envelope which didn't come to my cabin. "This got delivered to the courthouse, under General Delivery," she said softly.
Stacy was the name on the telegram. The tea-colored telegram unfolded in my hands. I scanned the words, but they blurred and came too fast, too wrong.
