The White Wolf's Brother

Hitting The Grind

The next morning, I again slapped the annoying alarm clock into silence. I had woken up at around 2 a.m. on the couch. I turned off the TV, which by then had changed to the DVD player's home screen, then checked on my sleeping mother before dragging myself to my bed. I had pretty much faceplanted onto the bed and immediately passed back out. 

  I rolled over with a groan, throwing my arm across my eyes to momentarily block out the light. I knew I needed to get up and make Mom's breakfast, but sometimes I just wished I could sleep in, just for one morning. Even though I'm young and healthy, I still get tired. So many times, I've heard the older wolves say, "Oh, you're young, you shouldn't be tired!" But that just wasn't true. In addition to taking care of Mom, I had just recently picked up a part time job assisting the local butcher. I worked about 3 or 4 days a week, usually about 4 hours a day. So my paychecks weren't huge, but they, along with the pack's version of disability Mom got, helped keep the lights on and food on our table. (Not that we ever used the table.) I had been off yesterday and the day before, but today I had to work for 3 hours. Sam - the butcher - was closing up an hour early today because of some kinda family event he had to go to. I was glad to have Sam as a boss. He may have talked and acted like a big tough guy, but everybody in the pack knew he had a heart of gold underneath that gruff exterior. He knew that I had to care for my mom until Carrie came and took over for me so that I could work. I knew that he cut me some slack here and there but tried not to let me know about it. 

  I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower. I stood for several seconds, just relishing the hot water hitting my skin for a few minutes. Finally, I washed my hair and body before climbing out and toweling off. Once I'd gotten dressed and brushed my teeth and hair, I headed down to check on Mom and get her breakfast ready. 

  When I walked into the living room, I thought she was still asleep because she had her eyes closed, but when she sensed my presence in the room, she opened them and gave me a ghost of a smile. "Good morning, son," she whispered.

  "Good morning, Mom," I replied as I gave her a kiss on the cheek. "How are you feeling today?"

  "Not so good today, baby," she whispered. 

  I frowned. "Are you hurting? What's wrong?"

  She nodded. "My throat hurts," she whispered. "And my chest feels tight."

  Amongst several other things, Mom had emphysema. When Kane rejected her she'd taken up smoking as a way to deal with the stress and heartbreak. She'd immediately quit when she found out a couple weeks later when she found out she was pregnant with me, but had picked it back up again when I was a few months old. 

  Kane, you see, is my biological father. My mother's mate. The one that mated with her, then rejected her the next morning and left the pack, never to see or even contact her again. They had been dating, but Mom refused to do anything more than kiss until they found out if they were mates or not. Mom turned 18 just a few days after Kane, and they turned out to be fated mates. Mom was elated. She had told me the story a few times. They had spent her entire birthday and that night together, doing all the things they'd waited to do, and excitedly talking about their future. Well, as Mom said, at least, there was excitement on her side. She'd thought he was excited too, but she'd been horribly wrong. The next morning, he showed his true colors when he rejected her. She'd begged him to tell her why, but all he would say was that he had no desire to be tied down, and then he left. Not just left the house; he had left the pack. She found out two weeks later that she was pregnant with me. She'd reached out to his family, who had always treated her as one of their own, just as her parents had done him. She was horrified to find out he'd filled their heads with lies about her, saying that he'd rejected her because he found out she'd been sleeping around. His mom had very coldly told her that she was positive the baby - meaning me - was not Kane's and to never speak to them again. Mom had pointed them out to me at various pack functions from time to time, but to my knowledge she never actually did speak to them ever again. I don't count them as my family. The rest of the pack had turned their backs on her too, only speaking to her when absolutely necessary. That lasted for a lot of years, because they believed Kade's sordid lies without even asking my mom her side. Now, most of them are at least civil to her, and a couple are even friendly. But by and large, they still make her feel like an outsider. And while I do get angry when I think about it - my mom has always been such a sweet lady, with such a forgiving nature and a big heart, and they judged her without even asking her side - I try not to let it get to me anymore. And at least they did allow her the benefits of being a pack member, such as her monthly check and end of life care. Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself, and that's all part of the past anyway.

  "Todd?" Mom whispered. I noticed she was wheezing little bit.

  My focus immediately snapped back. "Sorry, Mom. Have you used your inhaler?" 

  She nodded. "Yes. But it's not helping much."

  I frowned. "I'm sorry, Mom. Carrie will be here shortly, and maybe she can help."

  She laid back and closed her eyes. "I hope so."

  "Do you feel like eating any breakfast?" I asked her.

  She shook her head. "No thank you, sweetheart. I can always have Carrie fix me something if I change my mind later."  

  "Ok, Mom," I replied, leaning down to kiss her head. I made a mental note to myself to tell Carrie about her not eating, and already having to use her inhaler this morning. 

  Since Mom didn't feel like eating breakfast, I decided I didn't really want to cook for just me. So, I poured myself a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios - my favorite cereal - and stood by the kitchen counter to eat it. About the time I got done eating, Carrie was walking in the front door. By then, Mom had dozed back off while watching The Price Is Right. 

  After letting Carrie know that she'd had to use her inhaler already, her throat was sore, and hadn't had breakfast, I grabbed my jacket and headed out the door. Sam kept it pretty cool in the shop, so that jacket usually came in handy.

  The butcher's shop was only a couple of blocks from our house, so it only took 5-10 minutes to walk there. Mom's old Chrysler Concord, which she'd bought used when I was a baby in 2002, had finally given up the ghost about a month ago. It was going to need an all new engine to run again, which would cost more than the car was worth. So, we were without a car at the moment. Luckily, my job was within walking distance, and we could use public transport to get to Mom's doctors appointments. 

  A few minutes later, I was walking into the shop. I called out a greeting to Sam, who was busy slicing some ham in the back. I heard his familiar grunt of greeting in response. I quickly stashed the backpack with the change of clothes and a couple of drinks in it in my locker in the small break room and grabbed the fully body length rubber apron and Kevlar gloves I kept in my locker, along with the plastic covers for my shoes, before heading into the back room Sam was working in. I shoved my time card into the old fashioned time clock on the way. 

  "How's it going, Sam?" I asked as I tied the apron on before heading over to the sink to scrub my hands and arms. 

  "Been pretty busy today already," he told me. "We had two customers waiting outside when I got here. One bought our last 25 pounds of ham, the other ordered a whole d**n cow. Ya'd think we live in a wolf pack or something."

  I snickered at that. "You'd think. What can I help with?"

  He pointed to the walk in cooler. "Got the cow in there. Haven't got to start carving it yet. You can start with that. Got it in yesterday, so it's ready to be cut."

  For the next several hours, I rotated between helping him carve meat to assisting customers when Jody, Sam's 18 year old niece that worked in the front got backed up. Jody was barely civil to me most of the time, and even borderline rude at times, but nothing I couldn't handle. It was no secret that she, like some other pack members, thought my mom was faking her health problems so that she didn't have to work. I ignored her whenever possible, and was as civil as I could be when I had to deal with her. Usually her response to that was to roll her hazel eyes and flip her long, wavy blonde ponytail over her shoulder, letting it hang down to her waist. At 5'10, 125 lbs, and piercing blue eyes to match the blonde hair, she would've been gorgeous without that attitude of hers. But she was really good with the customers, and I suppose that's all that mattered. 

  About an hour before we closed up shop for the day, Sam's mate Emily came in with their two kids. Emily had all the sweetness that Jody seemed to lack. She was never without a smile, and had occasionally been known to bring meals over to our house for Mom and me. Emily and Jody may have been about the same height - 5'10 - but that was where their similarities ended. Emily kept her brown hair cut short, saying that if it was long it got in her way, both at the shop and while dealing with the pups. She didn't get annoyed often, but when she did, you could tell it from the fire snapping out of her green eyes. She was a little bigger than Jody - about 15 lbs heavier - but you couldn't really tell it by looking. I just know because I overheard them arguing one day. Jody had called her fat, and Emily's response was to snap back, "Oh, no, honey, this extra fifteen pounds ain't fat. It's called curves, which you clearly need more of." I remember snorting with laughter and walking away before they caught me eavesdropping, albeit by accident. 

  Anyway, when Emily and the pups walked in, as usual, they ran straight to where I was standing behind the counter, screaming, "TODD!!" I pretend that it annoys me, but everyone, including the two pups, knows that I actually love it. 

  Nine year old Selena, who is a tiny replica of her mother, got to me first and threw her arms around my legs. Not two seconds later, she was joined by her seven year old brother Sam Jr. Both kids were hugging my legs just as tight as they possibly could. 

  "Hey, hey, hey, who let these tiny little beasts in here?" I asked nobody in particular.   

  "Todd, Todd, Todd, guess what?" Selena said excitedly. 

  I plopped down in the chair behind the counter and pulled both kids into my lap. "What is it, squirt?" I asked, using my favorite nickname for her.

  "Mommy said Grandma and Grandpa are coming down today!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up with excitement. "We haven't seen them since we went to their house two weeks ago. That was FOREVER ago!"

  "And Mommy says they're bringing us cookies!" Sam Jr. piped up. "They gived us cookies last times, but we eated them all already."

  "Really?" I replied. "What kind of cookies?"

  "My favorite kind!" Selena said. "Peanut butter!"

  "Peanut butter, eh?" I responded. "Those are my favorite too. Do you think Grandma will bring me some too?" I joked.

  Sam Jr. nodded, his eyes lighting up like the lights on a Christmas tree. "Yes! I know she would!"

  I laughed. "I'm joking, buddy. Those cookies are all yours and and your sister's. But maybe one day I'll come to your house and we can make cookies together, huh?"

  Both pups nodded excitedly. 

  I turned to Emily and Sam. "Would that be ok with you? If maybe one day I drop by and bake cookies with the kids?" 

  Emily smiled. "You bet! Just name the day."

  I smiled back. "Awesome. I'll have to see what's going on this weekend - maybe we could do it then."

  "It's a date!" she said. 

  A customer came in right about then, so I hugged both kids and set them back on their feet to go help the lady. One more hour to go and I clock out. I had this day in the bag.