Alejo went on working, changing his routine to the extent of opening and closing his tool case long enough to remove one item at a time, as Sam’s critter friends popped in and out, and Sam gestured and trilled and snapped his fingers at them as he showed them his birdhouse.
Alejo was beginning to tidy up, with half the window frames done, and a good start on the new back wall, when a pop right beside him brought Rocky. Beady raccoon eyes peered up at him, and here were several washers, along with an equal number of walnut shells, each scoured out inside.
Rocky looked up at Alejo expectantly. Alejo resisted the impulse to shift. He’d knock everything flying, and serpent paws and claws were not made for human tools. As a serpent he might be able to understand Rocky on the mental plane. Or not.
Later, he told himself. “Thank you,” he said out loud. “Are these a gift or a trade?” He touched a walnut shell.
“He wants to trade them,” Sam piped, running over. “See, he’s pushing them at you.”
“So I see.” Alejo carefully pushed the washers back toward Rocky, who gathered them up, chirped, and popped away.
Sam beamed. “They’re building things. I think they want to help, and do some trades.”
“We’ll have to work on that,” Alejo promised. “Right now it’s getting on toward dinner. I think we’d better get going and not keep your mom waiting.”
Sam bolted ahead, and soon they sat down to dinner, Sam full of good spirits once again.
After he had conked out for the night, Alejo waited, and Wendy appeared, that same hint of question in her eyes, as if she still did not believe that happiness didn’t have a catch. He held out his arms. She walked into them, bringing the whole of her warmth and softness. His heart drummed with expectation, and then he drowned in her sweet kisses.
The second time was even better. Later—when he could think again—he fretted over how to reveal his nature. He should have done early on!
MATE!his serpent insisted.
I know, and she reached for me first. There was no way in a thousand years I was going to push her off with a ‘but wait!’
Okay, he was simply going to have to step up his plans. A weekend was coming up. Maybe a picnic? Yeah, on the beach. That would be easy to arrange if she decided she wanted to paint the window frames now that they were almost done. Sam would probably be helping too, but as he already knew, it wouldn’t matter if he saw Alejo shift. He just had to find a nice way to approach it. Pleasant day—soft waves—sitting on the sand—good food—just kind of ease around to the subject…
He fell asleep halfway through planning an elaborate conversation.
* * *
The following days passed in the same rhythm. Each afternoon, Sam came to the house to help. Before introducing Sam to power tools, he had to learn to safely use hand tools, so Alejo zipped over to the hardware store and bought a hand saw.
Sam was a very careful kid. Alejo was aware of a protective sense welling up in him when he positioned Sam’s small fingers beside the cut mark on his practice plank, thumb against the blade. He held his breath as Sam awkwardly began sawing back and forth, struggling to get his small muscles to keep the blade from jumping until the blade got a good bite.
When Sam successfully cut his first piece of wood, Alejo felt Sam’s burst of triumph, all the stronger because he knew that Wendy was trusting him with her child’s safety. Not a bad start, eh? The rest would come. He just had to work out his scenario. Saturday would be Revelation Day. Then everything would be smooth sailing.
And so they came to Friday afternoon, when he and Sam returned for dinner. Wendy stood at the stove. “It’s just us. Lily and Eve are both gone for the weekend, so I made tacos. They’re about ready.” Wendy added to a pile of crispy shells cooling on the sideboard. “Wash up, then come and build your own. Oh. Alejo, I’ve heard your phone ringing repeatedly.”
“Something from Godiva?” He halted in the doorway.
“I don’t think so. We just exchanged texts an hour ago, about some paperwork her agent sent here. She didn’t mention trying to reach you.”
Alejo went to wash his hands. On his way back, he glanced at his phone, and did not recognize the number. He also saw, to his annoyance, that his e-mails were up over a hundred again.
Fighting the impulse to send everyone an ALL-CAPS text to the effect of “Leave me alone! I’ve got important mate business here!” he thrust the phone in his back pocket and hustled back into the kitchen to see if there was something he could do to help Wendy. But she had everything ready. They got plates, built their tacos, and sat down.
He liked Eve and Lily, but getting to sit down with just Wendy and Sam made him feel like a real family. All he had to do was get Plan Picnic successfully deployed—
R-I-I-N-N-G!!!
A glance showed that it was the same number that had called before…seven times? What kind of jerk was at the other end? And Facetime, too!
He grinned at Sam across the table. “Want to see my surefire method for getting rid of persistent scam callers?”
Sam’s eyes rounded behind his thick glasses. “Yes!”
Alejo glanced at Wendy, who said, “I’d love to learn how to get rid of them.”
