They both look at me a little strangely, like they’re not used to me asking to be let under their blanket, like they’re used to me running off and getting into trouble and not asking to spend time with them.
I think in this moment something unsaid but important passes between all three of us, some understanding that come tomorrow things might change for good. But that tonight, we just want to sit together as a family, snuggled on the sofa, and pretend like life will always be this way.
Dad shifts so there’s a space between them and Mom lifts the corner of the blanket so I can get under.
“Lisa just cheated on her boyfriend with Melanie’s husband,” he says, gesturing at the screen while I figure out how to position the cushions so they aren’t sticking into my back.
“Wild,” I say, nestling in and feeling the warmth of them on either side of me, holding me like cozy bookends, at least for one more night.
THE PACK RETREAT REVISITED
I find Jasper in his father’s room the next morning. It’s barely light out and what sunlight is slipping through the gap in the curtains is minimal, but it shines in a single beam across Jericho’s legs and onto Jasper’s face.
He looks like he’s praying.
“Hey,” I say quietly, not wanting to disturb the air.
Jasper puts a hand on his dad’s knee then turns and gives me a small, sad but hopeful smile.
“They’re about to move him,” he says. “Just wanted one last moment with him in case ...”
I step to Jasper and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “He’s going to be fine. We all are.”
He places a hand on top of mine, his arm crossing his body.
“We should get moving too,” he says and stands.
Outside in the hall Jasper speaks to his father’s attendants, and I watch through the closing door as they tuck Jericho’s sheets in a little tighter before lifting him to the moving gurney. The last thing I see before the door clicks shut is Jericho’s unmoving face, his eyes closed softly as if he’s only sleeping.
Wake up, Jericho,I think.Wake up.
“Have you got everything?” Jasper asks as we move back down the hall toward the living room.
“It’s by the elevator.”
“Great, meet me there, I just have to grab my bags.”
Jasper grazes my cheek with a kiss and turns toward his bedroom while I continue to the living room, where I’m surprised to find Tobias sitting on one of the curving navy sofas, reading some document from inside a manilla folder and looking strangely nervous. The papers are quivering in his right hand while his left hand rubs his bouncing knee.
“Oh, hello, Max,” he says, startled when I approach. “Just waiting to assist with the alpha’s transfer upstate. Are you and Jasper on your way?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Jasper’s just getting his bags. Are you okay?”
“Me?” he says, looking around like there might be someone else in the room. “Yes, fine, fine.”
“Good.”
I cross through the living room to the elevator doors, where my little roller suitcase is waiting.
“Terrible times, these are,” Tobias says, because I guess he wants to make small talk. “Really terrible times. I ... I’ve never experienced anything quite as harrowing in my tenure as pack secretary.”
He toys with one end of his curling mustache.
Maybe I’ve mistaken his desire for chitchat with a nervous need to communicate.
“You’re right,” I say, trying to comfort this forty-something-year-old man. “It’s pretty scary. But we have Morven and the plan now, so ...”
“Yes, yes.” His eyes dart about the oval-shaped coffee table in front of him before he shifts forward so he’s sitting on the very edge of the sofa. “You know, I was thinking something.”
