Bryce listened, fascinated. "Can I see the Bobcat?"
Frankie grinned. "You can ride shotgun, little man. Anytime."
For a moment, the store faded out, and it was just the three of us, talking over an empty shopping cart and a lifetime of memory. Then someone cleared their throat behind Frankie, and the spell broke.
"I should let you get on with your day," she said, eyes searching my face. "But don’t ghost me, Krys. Promise? We’ll do dinner. Or drinks. Or just sit around and roast marshmallows while we complain about our lives."
I squeezed her arm. "Promise. I’m so glad you’re back."
She hugged me again, quick and fierce, then waved at Bryce. "See you around, kiddo."
"See you, Bobcat lady," he called, which made her cackle all the way down the aisle.
I pushed the cart on, feeling lighter than I had all week.
Bryce had gone quiet, which meant he was either plotting or stewing. "She’s funny," he said finally, "but she talks a lot."
"She always did," I replied, "but you get used to it."
We rounded the next aisle, and my good mood lasted exactly ten feet before it crashed. There, standing in front of the freezer case, was Vivienne.
She wore a fitted jacket and slacks, her hair in that perfect updo, and her eyes locked onto us with unsettling precision. She moved with the kind of confidence that made every other person in the aisle vanish.
"Krystal!" she sang out. "So good to see you, dear. And this must be your son."
I stepped in front of Bryce without even thinking. Something about this woman was unsettling. "Vivienne. Good morning."
She glided forward, smile a shade too bright. "It’s always a pleasure to run into you outside of, well, outside of everything."
I kept my smile small and controlled. "We were just picking up groceries after the run."
Bryce stuck close, silent and wary. Vivienne crouched down to his level, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. He stiffened but didn’t move away.
"What’s your name?" she asked, her tone syrupy.
He looked at me, then at her. "Bryce."
"Bryce," she repeated, savoring the syllables. "What a strong name. Do you like school?"
He nodded, eyes darting everywhere but her face.
She asked about video games, then about his favorite animal. Her every question was a little too precise, her eyes always on him, like he might suddenly sprout a horn or burst into flame.
I said, "We should get going, but thank you, Vivienne. For what you did. With the, ah, situation."
Her gaze flicked to me, assessing. "Of course. I always want to help."
I could tell she was waiting for me to say more, but I didn’t. Instead, I rested a hand on Bryce’s head, pulling him in gently.
Vivienne straightened, her smile never faltering. "You’re raising a wonderful boy," she said. "Very special."
She reached out and patted his hair. He flinched a tiny bit. A low growl rumbled in my chest. My wolf didn’t like her interest in Bryce.
"We have to finish shopping," I said, my tone firmer than I intended. "See you around."
"You will," she replied, stepping aside.
I steered the cart down the aisle, the hair on the back of my neck standing up. Bryce looked up at me, then whispered, "She’s weird."
