“Masterpiece.” She snorted. But there was her little grin, the one that small Sam had inherited. It came out rarely—and every time Alejo saw it in either mother or son, he felt like he’d won the lottery. Yeah, he needed to figure out this school stuff on his own. After all, this was his kid. Wendy had enough to deal with. “Okay,” she said. “But please tell me if I’m letting my project take up too much time. I tend to lose track.”
“I promise, if it makes you feel better. But I don’t see it ever being a problem.”
“Thank you,” she said fervently.
“For what? For liking to cook?”
“For being you.”
He kissed her again. “I’ll be me anytime you like. Anywhere. With clothes or without.” He wiggled his brows, just to see her fair skin blush—and blush she did, adorably.
Sam was not really interested in cooking, but Oriane was. Sam disappeared after a few minutes, off to his drawing. Alejo abandoned explaining the recipe, which wasn’t written anywhere—it was what Rigo called “seat of the pants” cooking—and told Oriane a few stories about his travels with his dad when he was young. He tried to work his way around to education, but every time he neared the subject, she got that stubborn look—and a bare mention of, “When I was in school,” elicited a sudden need for a bathroom break.
He gave up.
As Rigo’s chili recipe was more savory than hot, it turned out to be a big hit with everyone in the household, the cornbread just sweet enough to offset the spices. Oriane offered to load the dishwasher by herself, and later that night, when Alejo and Wendy fitted themselves together in bed, he said, “I think I’m getting the hang of this being a dad. Of course, I realize I’ve got it easy. I came into the picture when they were already housetrained. And they’re both such good kids—”
His phone rang, startling them both.
“Who could that be, at this time of night?” Wendy asked. “At least I don’t recognize the ringtone.”
“I do.” Alejo sighed as he hauled himself out of bed, and fetched the phone he’d left on the dresser. “It’s Roxane. I hope nothing’s happened… Hello? Roxane?”
“Alejo! Oriane says she is now very happy. Every day, she text me, as I instructed. She say she is studying very hard. I am glad, me. I thank you. But, now I find she has been, how do you say, lamp-posting me.”
“Gaslighting?”
“That is the one, yes. Tonight, I ask her, what is the school name, that I can write to her teachers, and she admits there is no school yet. She is not in school! I told her, she must enroll right away, or she will get behind! Is there a problem with the papers I sent?”
Alejo suppressed a sigh. “No. She keeps telling me she’s not ready.”
“Not ready? How! She is the top of her class always!”
“She gets upset if I mention school, and says not yet.”
“She will say that forever, if you let her! Tell her, she must go to school now, or she must come home.”
“All right. I’ll get on that tomorrow.”
They hung up, and he climbed back into bed.
“Problem?” she asked.
He considered telling her there wasn’t one, but it felt too much like shutting her out. Everything was still so new! “I haven’t wanted to hassle you,” he said slowly. “I love seeing you get fired up with whatever you’re working on.”
“You can tell me anything,” she said instantly—as he’d come to expect.
He sighed, and explained his total lack of success with Oriane when it came to the vital question of school. Everything else? Great. “Just when I was beginning to feel like I was doing fine at this parent thing. But everything I try, she shuts down. Or worse, she gets those big eyes, and her voice goes tiny, and I haven’t had the heart to push it.”
Wendy hugged him. “That’s because you’ve got a good heart. I strongly suspect that it’s not going to be as bad as she thinks. When I was young, a new kid from an interesting place got instant popularity points. That French accent of hers I guarantee is going to be a friend magnet.”
Alejo sighed. There were a lot of things in his life he could control, both in the human world and in the shifter world. But a kid—hiskid—facing a pack of middle-schoolers while he was not there to protect her if she needed it was not one of them. “Maybe some of my lack of success is my own reluctance. Which I know up here is ridiculous.” He tapped his forehead. “She’s been going to school since she lost baby teeth and though I can’t read French very well, it shares enough Latin background with Spanish for me to puzzle out her school transcripts enough to see that her grades are consistently high. It’s just that she’s so new in my life, I want to do right by her. Also, I really don’t know how to get her to eventry.”
“It sounds as if her mother is ready to issue an ultimatum. I take it she hasn’t yet told Oriane she must either go to school or come back home?”
“She thought she was in school until today, but when Roxane tried the ultimatum, Oriane turned off her phone. Which I gather is her usual way of responding to her mother—either that or a shouting match. Roxane seems to need me to step up. I guess it’s time to lay it out straight.”
“Good idea,” Wendy murmured, her eyelids drooping.
