19
Elijah
Walking and talking on the phone was something I had to relearn after losing my vision, but I think I was handling it all right. With one hand on River’s harness handle and the other holding the phone up to my ear, we made our way to the nearest local bakery, just down the street from our home.
“Please pick up,” I muttered as the dial tone rang out.
Finally, the receiver lifted.
A woman’s hesitant voice answered. “Hello?”
“Hello? Is this Felix’s mother, Evelyn?” I asked.
There was a short pause, and I was afraid she would hang up on me. I bit my lip, ready to call her again if this didn’t go well, but to my relief she didn’t immediately slam the figurative door in my face.
“Yes. And you must be Elijah.”
She said my name like it left a sour taste on her tongue.
“Yes, ma’am, that would be me,” I said.
Evelyn spoke in a clipped, curt tone that indicated she was only replying to be polite and that she clearly wanted nothing to do with me. “And what would be the purpose of this call?”
Geez, this lady is nothing like Felix. He must take after his dad,I thought.
I cleared my throat. “I’m calling to apologize for my behavior in our previous conversation.”
A beat passed. “Oh? Is that right?”
“Yes.”
I was smart enough to swallow my pride and have a mature conversation with the parents of my mate--and the grandparents of our child.
Felix hadn’t told them the news yet. In fact, he hadn’t spoken to them at all since their last blow up. I understood his anxiety, but I wanted them to know the truth. I asked Felix for his parents’ phone numbers and told him that I would speak to them, even if he didn’t want to.
“So, I know we didn’t meet on the best terms,” I began. “It was a heated conversation for every party involved, so I know I didn’t come across as the upstanding kind of alpha you’d want as a mate for your child.”
“Hmm.”
“I know you aren’t thrilled that Felix didn’t end up with a Bisley,” I said, grinding the name out. “But I can assure you, he’s healthy and happy with me. And just as well off, financially, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
She hesitated. “You said you were an ex-bodyguard.”
“Yes, ma’am. Paid handsomely and I was an aggressive saver, plus I currently receive disability benefits.”
“Ah. Yes. You mentioned before that you were, erm, visually impaired.”
“Blind.”
She quietly cleared her throat. “Right.”
I knew the question she held on the tip of her tongue that she was too embarrassed to ask.
“It doesn’t change anything in our relationship. I care for Felix as much as any alpha can care for an omega,” I told her. “We’re a normal pair of mates.”
“Normal,” she murmured, then sighed. “Apparently not, given Felix’s condition. To be honest with you, I didn’t know. And I’ve been too afraid to call and speak to him about it, in case he would get upset again.”
My heart lifted. She did care about her son, after all--she just had a stubborn, obtuse way of showing it.
