Page 29 of Admiring His Omega
“There should be a little white splotch on his left, front paw.” Mal pointed at the drawing so Harper Wilson could make another note. “Otherwise, the coloring is accurate. Oh, he’s going to be so cute.”
Harper smiled at him, the small gap between his front teeth a testament to his Wilson ancestry. Grammy Wilson had graced all her blood related children and grandchildren with a Lauren Huttonisque smile.
“I’ll have the carving for you by the end of the week, Mr. Reed. The armor will be the hardest part, so I’ll send you pictures as I progress.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course, sir.”
Mal’s own smile faltered. It felt wrong to have a man only a few years younger than him call him sir and mister. He left Harper’s house quickly, hoping not to run into another Wilson. He usually stuck close to the don’t-talk-to-a-Wilson rule, but Harper was the best woodworker Mal knew about.
He chuckled as he thought about the night before. Cain had fit into Mal’s D&D group perfectly. He’d embraced being a catwhich surprised everyone. What was more surprising was that Rick had already planned a whole set of adventures on the hope that Cain would accept his curse gracefully. The thought his friend put into pranking a newb was astounding.
As he drove through town, the signs of summer were everywhere. Colorful flowers decorated the walkways, a lemonade stand perched next to the bookstore, and an ice cream truck provided a high amount of sugar to several children. Hobson Hills was really a great town. There were negatives, of course. All towns had them, especially small towns. However, there were many good people here, and, in his experience, good people made a good town.
If he were ever to settle down somewhere besides Thorn Creek, it would be here. “That would make Grandpa David so mad,” he said aloud, chuckling. “Serves him right for getting me socks for Christmas when I was five.”
“Sometimes I wonder about your sanity,” Van said, shaking her head. She sat in the passenger seat of his truck, dressed for a day of fishing. “You know we forgot the cooler, right?”
“Crappity crap.” He made a right turn. “I want my wine.”
“Yes, who can fish without their merlot?” Van rolled her eyes.
“You get your beer; I get my wine.” He shrugged. “No judgement.”
“Who would I be if I couldn’t judge?” Van looked sad.
He laughed. “I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
All laughter stopped when they both spotted Bianca at the door to his RV. The teenager was crying, eyes swollen, arms wrapped around herself.
“What’s wrong?” Van asked, out of the truck before it had even stopped.
“Mom,” she said, voice breaking.
Van wrapped her arms around her daughter and pulled her close.
Mal quickly parked the truck and ran to them. “Come inside. I’ll make some hot cocoa.”
Van and Bianca settled onto the couch while Mal let Betty out into the small, fenced space he had made for her next to his RV. The fencing was removable and made a nice temporary space for Betty to use the bathroom or get some sunshine.
Once the pig was settled, he went back inside and started making the cocoa. While he did, Bianca spoke through her sobs.
“He broke up with me,” she squeaked. “He said I was just a slut that was trying to break up his family.”
“Family?” Mal asked, his own voice rising. The stirring spoon dropped from his hand. “What does that mean? Do his parents not approve of you or something?”
“How old is this person?” Van asked, face turning red.
Bianca cried harder. “Mom, his age doesn’t matter. It’s just a number. I’m not telling you all who he is. He has a wife and kids. They don’t need you two making a scene. I don’t want to break up his family. I really don’t. I just want to be with him.”
“Bianca Lorraine Bell, you are sixteen years old. The age of this married man matters a great deal.” Van stood up and began pacing. “He has to be over eighteen, so his ass should be in jail.”
Mal went to his room and pulled Bianca’s favorite blanket out of the drawer beneath the bed. “Bianca, you’re not in trouble. We love you and always will.” His fingers shook as he wrapped it around her, bundling her up like a burrito before hugging her. Her own shaking calmed.
Van stopped pacing and squeezed onto the couch with them, hugging Bianca from the other side. “It will be alright, sweetheart. You’re not alone. We’re here. We love you.”
