“It is, and I’m very happy.” I took his arm, which was difficult in such a tight space, and brought him inside. His expression changed slightly when he smelled the food.
I beckoned Merrick closer so I could put an arm around him, but he was stirring yet another dish on the stove. He waved the wooden spoon, and sauce splattered on the floor.
Father’s gaze was roaming over the sofa bed, the small table set for dinner with the candles my mate had lit in the center, and the boxes lining one wall.
His gaze alighted on my mate, and his eyes narrowed. “Your mate, I assume? He’s human.”
“Yes, he is, on both accounts. Father, this is my mate, Merrick. We are bonded and marked.” That last part was so he couldn’t argue about me not knowing what I wanted and that my judgment was clouded.
“But our family?—”
I cut him off. “Both my bear and I recognized Merrick as our one and only five years ago.”
Father slumped onto the sofa, and it tilted to one side, like a boat about to sink.
“I can’t answer about our lineage, but I’ve never been happier.”
He opened his mouth, and I braced myself for a barrage of insults or complaints, but what he said was, “I can see you’re happy, happier than you’ve been for years.” His eyes narrowed. “Wait, let’s backtrack. What was that you said about five years?”
I summarized, not wanting to delve into that painful lost time of my life.
“You’re very lucky.” He held out a hand to Merrick. “Welcome to the family.”
But my mate embraced him.
We won’t tell your father about the tomato stain on his back.
I agreed, and I opened a bottle of wine.
“But can I ask why you’re living here instead of your place?” The furrows on his brow resembled a row of waves. “This studio is smaller than my…” His voice faded as I glared at him because he was going to mention that damned closet. I just knew it.
“That was me.” My mate raised his hand. “I didn’t feel comfortable surrounded by so much… opulence.”
Father nodded, though he would never understand.
A thumping on the stairs and raised voices alerted us to our other guests, and I was grateful for the distraction.
Merrick charged toward the door and fell into the arms of the man who’d been about to knock and had a baby on his hip. “Arnold.”
He pulled his brother inside, and they were followed by his father and Chase, Arnold’s husband, who carried a toddler and held the hand of their three-year-old. The toddler demanded to be put down, and she and her older brother explored the studio.
Father didn’t engage with me much until I was in my late teens, and children yelling, climbing over him and messing up his suit with sticky hands was his version of purgatory.
Introductions were made, and I hid a smile when Father inspected his hands and suit after the kids clamored over him.
“Can you turn into a bear?” the little girl, Rosa, asked me.
“I can, but not today because we’re about to eat dinner.”
She didn’t listen to my answer and scooted toward the stove where her brother, Marvin, was inspecting the pots, but Merrick scooped them up and I unfolded the highchairs we’d rented for the two smaller kids.
Once they were corralled, we pulled out the table, but Merrick and I shared a glance and shook our heads. Five adults and a child couldn’t fit around it, so we spread blankets and cushions on the floor and ate there.
Father swivelled and ducked as Rosa aimed missiles of bread at his head. Poor guy, he’d race home and lock himself in his closet and wonder if he’d been kidnapped by aliens for the night. But it was good for him to see how others lived, not that it would change him.
The baby fell asleep, and Rosa got bored, so she snuggled on the sofa with a picture book.
“My dad says you’re important.” Marvin had wormed himself into a space beside my father. “But Uncle Merrick says Kingston is the most important person in his life because he makes him smile. Who’s right?”
