Page 41 of Wishing for a Werewolf
In the kitchen, she shows me where she put all thedifferent types of food. “It’s pretty easy. If you got it from a cold case at the grocery store, you put it inside the refrigerator. Same for the freezer.” She opens the door to show the smaller compartment, now filled with “kid-friendly food,” which mostly seems to be chicken tenders and ice cream.
Autumn shows me how to wash all of my new dishes and cookware, and we work side by side, with me washing and her drying and putting away.
Next, the linens go into the dryer, while we take the covers off all the furniture, and she shows me how to use the cleaning supplies. We finish in my bedroom, where she pulls the dustcover off the otherwise bare mattress. “Okay, but seriously. Where have you been sleeping? ’Cause it sure as hell hasn’t been here.”
“On the front porch,” I admit somewhat sheepishly. “In my wolf form.”
“Oh.” She freezes, turning to stare at me for a moment before blurring back into motion, sliding two pillows out of their plastic wrap and placing them on top of the now-dusted dresser. When the dryer goes off, she shoves all the warm linens into my arms, and I trail her around the house as she hangs towels in the bathrooms and kitchen. Back in my bedroom, Autumn shows me how to make the bed and finishes by slicking her hand over the blue blanket now spread across the top. “I think you should sleep here tonight. In your fae form.”
“I will,” I promise. “Thank you for making it nice for me. Thank you for everything. I couldn’t have done any of this without your help.”
“This is really important to you, learning to live like a man.”
“It is.” I finger the soft plushness of one of the pillows. “Yet it’s not just about me. None of the cu sith are familiar with our werewolf or fae forms. The adults are doing the best they can, but the pups…”
“What is it?” She steps closer, concern filling her beautiful green eyes. Autumn hasn’t met any of the other werewolves, but here she is, caring about them. My fire has such a good heart, which makes it easier to tell her my biggest worry, the one I haven’t admitted to anyone.
“None of the pups have shifted. It should be as easy as pulling on a pair of pants—easier, in fact. Yet they’re not doing it.” I wave a hand to take in the room, the house. “It’s why I’m here on Earth. I volunteered to create a place for them to learn how to be their full selves.” My fingers pluck at the edge of the pillow. “But with as much as I’ve learned, there are a million other things I’m ignorant of. I didn’t even know how to make a bed, for goddess’s sake! How can I ever be a good enough teacher?”
Autumn catches my hand and squeezes until I meet her eyes. “What you’re doing for them is amazing.You’reamazing. I can’t imagine what it must be like to move to an entirely different worldandlearn how to live like a man after being a wolf all your life. The very fact that you care so much means you’re going to succeed.”
“How do you know?”
Her lips curl. “You’re too stubborn to accept anything less.”
“Thank you.” I brush my thumb over her knuckles,marveling at the softness of her skin. “Thank you for all of your help.”
“Of course.” She grins up at me, her freckled nose scrunched with joy. “You’re going to make me dinner in payment.”
“I don’t know how.” I scowl at discovering yet another skill I lack.
“Don’t worry. Everything we bought is easy to make. Remember the sandwiches we had for lunch? Most of those don’t take any cooking!” She leads me back to the kitchen, opens the refrigerator, and starts pointing to things. “You’ve got bread, meat, and cheese. And over here are mustard and mayo and butter. You can do this.”
“We bought six different kinds of cheese. How do I know what goes with what?”
“Yeah, I probably went a little overboard with the cheese, since I consider it one of the essential food groups.” She gives me a quick smile and a little shrug. “But don’t worry! Cheese is a perfect food. You can’t go wrong with cheese.”
Under her direction, I pull out several ingredients. Soon, I’ve got pre-made tomato soup heating in the microwave and a few different types of sandwiches sizzling in a skillet.
Instead of eating in the dining room, we spread everything out across the kitchen island and perch on neighboring stools.
Autumn slices one of the sandwiches into quarters and slides a piece onto my plate. “Okay, what we have here is your traditional grilled cheese sandwich. Your niece and nephew will probably like this one the most.”
I bite into the crispy bread, butter slicking my tongue, followed by the gooey center of melted cheese. “I like it,” I say. “It’s not as strong of a flavor as the sharp cheddar you served me the other evening.”
She nods. “Try it with a bite of tomato soup.” She spoons up some of the bright red liquid, making a happy hum.
I eye my bowl cautiously. Even though I trust Autumn, I don’t trust vegetables.
“Come on. You like tomatoes.”
I frown and lift my spoon, letting the thick red liquid splash back down into the bowl. “I’ve never had them.”
“Sure you have. They’re what make up the sauce on most of the pizzas the pixies serve at Slice of Life.”
I grunt and take a sip, the flavor bright and acidic. “Not bad.” Then I take another spoonful, just to make sure, and crunch through another bite of sandwich, the soup and the mellower cheese creating an interesting contrast.
“Okay, this next one is more of an adult grilled cheese. We used extra-sharp cheddar and Gruyere for this one.” Autumn hands me a piece.
