“I don’t know.” She drags a piece of the fried bread through a puddle of syrup, staring down at her plate like it’s a lifeline.
“Well, just think about it, but nobody’s going to force you.” I have to change the subject. She’s getting too nervous, and I can feel the way her energy is changing, becoming a little panicked. “I was thinking about going shopping today. You need so many things. Why don’t we go out together?”
She makes me wait until she polishes off the last bite of food before setting the plate down. “I don’t need anything. Really. I’ll make do.”
It’s a special kind of punishment, wanting more than anything to provide for somebody who refuses to accept it. “I don’t want you to just make do. You’ve done that long enough. You deserve to have everything you need and everything you want.”
“But I… I mean, I don’t…”
She doesn’t want it from me. She might as well come out and say it—it’s hanging in the air between us anyway. I deserve this. It’s not her fault. I’m sure if our positions were reversed, I would act the same way.
“It might even be fun,” I suggest. “No pressure, but you could try on some clothes, buy some of that fancy skin care stuff girls like. I know,” I add when her mouth falls open, “you’re not that kind of girl. But you could be, if you wanted to. I only want you to have everything you want. You deserve it.”
That’s the thing. I have to wonder if she believes that, if she’s capable of believing it after years of being told the opposite.
“I just really don’t think so,” she concludes, and I get the feeling that’s the end of the discussion.
“Could you please tell me one thing?” She lifts an eyebrow expectantly. “You must have at least one favorite food. Don’t tell me there isn’t something you liked back before you lost your mom. You housed that spaghetti last night. Is it Italian food you like? Or maybe something else? There has to be something.” It’s bizarre, this back-and-forth thing we have going on. All I want is to make her happy. All I want is to understand her and give her everything she’s missed out on. Like, why can’t she see that? Why can’t she let me take care of her?
She keeps me waiting longer than I’d like but finally shrugs. “I like chocolate. Mom used to buy bags of those truffles, you know what I mean? Foil wrapped? They were such a treat. But really, I would eat it in any form,” she admits with a faint, shy smile.
Chocolate. Not exactly revolutionary, but it’s a start. “See? That wasn’t so hard. I’m going to go out for a while,” I announce, stacking the plates before reaching into my back pocket and pulling out my phone. “If you get bored, you can listen to music, watch a movie. Whatever you want.”
“But don’t you need it?”
“I think I can live without it for a little while. But if you need anything,” I add as an afterthought, “Tara’s number is in there. Text her or call her, and she’ll give me her phone.” Because obviously, I can’t do this on my own. I wouldn’t have the first clue what to buy for a girl, but Tara will. I know she wants to make it up to Nora just like I do. This is where she can start.
And she knows it, too, opening up as soon as we’re alone in my truck, Tara unloads what’s on her mind. “I barely slept last night. I couldn’t stop blaming myself. Did you ever have thatthing where your brain won’t stop replaying every awful moment you want to forget?”
“Who hasn’t? Nighttime is the worst time for that.” I’ve done more than enough of it myself.
“I just want to make it up to her.” Tara sighs. “I’m not saying we have to be best friends. I’m not trying to force myself on her. I just want to make it up to her somehow. Do you think she’ll let me?”
“To be honest? I don’t know,” I admit. “I think it will take time. She needs to learn to trust, and she hasn’t had anyone she could trust in years.” She shakes her head, her eyes going teary before she turns her face toward the passenger side window.
We pass the rest of the ride in silence, until I park in the lot behind a row of businesses and offices. “She needs… basically everything,” I explain to my sister. “Would you mind grabbing all of it? Beginning to end, A to Z. She has no toiletries at all.”
“Leave it to me.” She even gives me a little salute before hopping out of the truck. “Where are you going?”
“I want to talk to Doc about something to help Nora’s bruises heal.” The pack’s doctor has an office next door to the pharmacy Tara is headed for.
“Tell him I said hi,” she calls out over her shoulder after we part ways. The Doc has been a family friend all my life. He and Dad were as close as brothers—I used to think of him more like an uncle than a doctor. I still do, even without Dad in the picture anymore.
Molly, his receptionist, jerks a thumb in the direction of his office once I’m inside the clinic. “He’s between patients now. Go rightin.”
“Go right in?” Doc’s voice rings out from behind his closed office door. “You don’t know what I’m doing in here. Maybe I require a little privacy.”
I open the door, laughing. “She knows you too well for that, and so do I.”
A smile lights his face as he unfolds his tall, broad frame from the leather chair behind his desk. “Hi there. Is everything all right?”
He’s halfway around his desk, his hand extended to shake, when he stops suddenly and sniffs the air. “You’ve mated, haven’t you? Your smell is different.”
I guess there’s no hiding anything from a doctor who’s known me my entire life. “Yes, I found my mate.”
“That’s wonderful news!” The smile slips from his face at my blank reaction. “Isn’t it?”
“It’s complicated.” I drop into an empty chair. “It’s… Nora.”
