She nods.“I met a young man there.A werewolf.He was kind and handsome and nothing like the monster Minnie had described.I was furious with her for painting a horrifying picture of the wolves.And I was looking for a way to rebel.So, I kept sneaking out to see him.”
“You dated a werewolf?”Like mother, like daughter.
“For a little while.But then I turned eighteen, and I was accepted to college in Denver.I realized that dating him, riding on the back of his motorcycle, sneaking beers in the woods—that was all me searching for freedom from Minnie’s fear.But I wouldn’t really be free until I left.”
“And the guy?”
“He wanted me to stay.To be his mate.But he wasn’t the love of my life.For a little while, I worried that he might be.That I might have left a great love behind.But then I met your father a year later and realized what true love is.”She reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear.“What I meant to say is, I think Minnie knew I was sneaking out.She was probably terrified that I was getting close to the wolves.So, when I left, even though I left her behind, I also leftthembehind.I think she would have rather given up the chance to see me than risk me associating with the pack.”
The image my mother describes of my grandmother isn’t exactly flattering, but it does give me another perspective to consider.
And yet the end result is still a rift that left the woman in Pine Falls lonely and cut off.
“I feel like staying here would be choosing to give you all up,” I admit.“Maybe you’re right.I’m not the same as Minnie.But I’m also not the same as you.You snuck out of windows for a chance at freedom.I wall myself up.Without my brothers’ badgering, who’s to say what happened in college won’t happen again?I don’t think I can do this alone.”
Even thinking about that time in my past makes my chest tight.
What would Warner think of that version of me?
Logically, I know depression is a disease.That it’s not my fault.
But I can’t help the shame that cuts at my nerves when I imagine him witnessing me in my darkest place.
“Sweetheart, listen.Just for a minute.Sit here with me and listen.”
“Ihavebeen?—”
Mom puts her finger to my lips, cutting me off.I roll my eyes, but shut my mouth, bracing for her next argument, ready to rebut with more explanations of how different I am from my family.
We can’t be viewed through the same lens.They’re rib-crushing hugs while I’m tight smiles.They’re permanent markers and I’m light pencil lines.They’re vibrant life, and I keep to the shadows.
I have all these words ready to go, but with no chance to use them because my mother doesn’t speak.She sits still and watches me.The only sound comes from the front porch, where my brothers harmonize their instruments, playing a folk song I recognize as one they commonly choose to warm up with.The music takes me to our backyard at family picnics and dingy bars, where I ferried beers to the stage.
“Don’t you hear it?”Mom asks, her eyes boring into mine.
“The music?”
“The love.”Her long fingers cup my cheek.“They’re all here.Did you ask them to come?”
I shake my head, a thick lump in my throat hindering my ability to speak.
“And you’ll never have to.Wherever you go, they’ll find you.We’ll all find you.”Her face splits into a wide, teasing grin.“Our smothering is international.You think a couple hours’ drive will stop them?”
Suddenly, I have to blink rapidly.
My mother leans forward in her chair, holding all of my attention.“If you love that man and you’re leaving him because you’re worried about losing us, don’t.You could be in the middle of Denver, living in the house next door to mine, and still be oceans away.The thought of you breaking your own heart … that’s what scares me.I’ve seen what a broken heart does to women in our family.I think if you came back to Denver, we might lose you more than we would if you were far away.”
And now that she says it, I can see that too.The idea of returning to my tiny apartment in Denver without the hope of seeing Warner again sets off more of those horrible cracks in my chest.
Never feeling his warm body against mine.
Never watching him smile while I ask my questions.
Never hearing his laugh again.Or his growl.
He’s my wolf.Mine.
This pain, a deep ache in my chest,thisis drowning.
