Page 65 of Killian
“No,” said Moira, firmly.
Albert shrugged. “Well, you’re nicer than a lot of other people then. And a lot of people aren’t wrong. Exactly. Problem is… The world is getting smaller. Things are changing and not for the better. And I look around and you know what I see?”
Moira shook her head.
“I see a bunch of old men fucking shit up for everyone else while they cling to their old ways. I’m not saying I’m perfect. But I left the old world because I wanted change. You can’t be afraid of changing, Moira. It takes hard work, but it’s usually worth it. But you want to know the real secret?”
“I want to know all the secrets, Grandpa,” said Moira.
“Pick the change. Don’t have change forced on you. Change happens one way or another; can’t stop it any more than you can stop death. Don’t get so dug in that you can’t grow.”
“Is that what this is?” asked Moira looking at the bleachers and the firepit. “You’re choosing your change?”
Albert laughed. “Well, it’s either that or the biggest fuck up I’ve made lately. We’ll find out! And the best part is that your Uncle Rafe will be here for a front-row seat.”
Moira froze in shock. She didn’t think Grandpa had ever said Rafe’s name to her before. “What? Does Mom know?”
“Haven’t told anybody. Wasn’t even sure he was coming untilyesterday when I got the word. So… yeah, fly or flop, it’s going to be big. Won’t that be fun?” He grinned maniacally and Moira started to sweat. Grandpa never did anything by half-measures, but he’d really put all his eggs into one basket for this summit. Was he crazy?
Moira sighed again. She wished she could remember everything to do with her pack. She was confident that Killian’s fears were unfounded. Everyone made mistakes, but Grandpa could and had changed.
“Deep sighs over there,” said Killian, wrapping an arm around her waist. Their little bungalow was just ahead, the soft lights shining through the round windows.
She leaned into him. “I was just wishing that we had our memories back. I want to remember all the things we’ve talked about. What’s your favorite ice cream? Have you ever been surfing? Do you want kids?
“Sure, all the important things,” he said with a laugh.
“I know that everyone assumes that every wolf everywheremustwant children,” said Moira. “But kids are not for everybody. It’s worth asking.”
“Are you trying to give every wolf everywhere a fit of the vapors?”
“Yes,” said Moira. “And on behalf of the younger generation, I think I may also make a t-shirt that sayssome wolves are gay and they like it that wayand wear it to the next pack function. But aside from giving you a forecast of your future where I start endless amounts of trouble, let’s get back to the essential questions.”
Killian laughed harder. “Uh… What were the essentials again? Ice cream and surfing? I don’t know, maybe… coconut? Or, no, it’s mango.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you? It’s mint chocolate chip all day long.”
“I like fruit ice creams.”
“You are delusional.”
“I maintain that fruit ice creams are more true to the inherent nature of ice cream. I do surf and I do want kids.”
“Can you show me how to surf? It always looked like fun, but I never knew anyone who did it. And when?”
“Happy to show you. I have heard that Oregon actually has decent surfing. And whenever you want.”
“You know the last question was about kids, right?”
“Yes. And I find it utterly terrifying because I have no idea how to do the dad thing, but our kids will be so cute that I can barely stand the thought.”
“I know!” squealed Moira.
“But I mean, whenever the responsible time is. I just want to have a family at some point. But probably after you learn to surf. Pretty sure trying to learn surfing while pregnant would have balance issues.”
“I could see that,” said Moira, nodding. “Want to go practice making some babies?”
“Heck yeah,” he said and Moira giggled. “Race you to the door,” he added and took off.
