The Wolf's Song

A Special Dinner

Diana

I never considered myself poor, but when we walked into the restaurant and were led to a private gazebo on the cleared-out patio, I couldn’t help but feel like a princess.

It was a bit chilly so, there were two outdoor heaters at both corners which created a toasty cocoon of warmth. He pulled out my chair as I marveled at the table arrangement. Rose petals litter the table surrounding the mini glowing glass candle holders, our plates were topped with red napkins folded into a rose, two wine glasses each, and a line of silverware. I was too embarrassed to admit I had no idea what each was for.

Our waitress, an older woman, filled our water cups and handed us a menu. She explained that if we got too cold or warm, she would be happy to adjust the temperature. When she was gone, I faced my date.

“This is a lot. It’s amazing, but you didn’t have to do all this. We could have walked the streets and eaten from a food truck,” I teased.

“Street food, we have a lot of that here. Maybe next time,” he winked at me.

I allowed him this. After our talk at the museum, I could see him trying to be present, but there was still something bothering him. I felt bad, not wanting to dive into it right now, but I knew if I did then I’d be forced to bring up my own concerns--my music mystery and my truthful conversation with Andrew.

He didn’t say it, but again, he didn’t have to. My memories, the ones I dismissed, confirmed it for me, all of those growls that stirred my blood, the ones sounding less human, now make sense. The way he found my location so easily, or when I was entering a room. If I hadn’t been so consumed with what I thought to be real and just accepted the experiences that I remember taking hold, I would have seen it sooner.

Now though, looking at him had a new purpose, as I was searching for his wolf, trying to picture him. What color would he be, would his eyes stay the same icy blue? The memory of the first attack was hazy, my fear absolute that day, but I remembered feeling dwarfed by the creature, by the werewolf.

I thought Michael would be bigger; he was a big man after all. I spotted our waitress coming back and put myself on the task of what I wanted to eat. I skipped over the salads, and as much as I wanted a steak, I didn’t know what else he had plans for tonight and I didn’t want anything super heavy. I settled on a pork schnitzel with roasted veggies and a Moscato. He ordered a steak and red wine.

“I hope we know each other well enough to know I’m stealing a piece from you,” I teased. He smirked.

“Why do you think I ordered it?” he laughed.

God, I loved this man. That truth hit me deep and I basked in it all during dinner. The food was amazing; it was hard to not scarf it down, but I managed to cut my port into small pieces instead of stabbing it with my fork and eating like it were a giant saucer on a balancing stick and eating my veggies with my hands.

Perhaps on those other dates he promised, I would show my true self, but tonight, I was determined to use all these forks. Once the food was gone, our waitress returned and brought us another bottle of wine.

Our conversation was casual, both of us holding back the topics we desperately wanted to discuss but didn’t want to ruin the moment. There would be other spaces to venture into those topics, sooner rather than later I hoped, but for now, being with him was nice.

I tried to be in the moment, hanging on to his every word, but he was looking extra good, and combined with everything he planned for tonight, I allowed my thoughts to wander unashamed. The hormonal teenage girl I buried was emerging and I let her free, finally giving her the light of day that she missed.

I was not a virgin, but I didn’t have many dalliances in this area to call myself an expert. He looked like an expert, I thought, biting my lip as he continued a modified story of him and Francis lost in the woods and stumbling upon a damaged bridge that they paid to have rebuilt. I believed most of it, but the gaps were visible now.

Thankfully our waitress returned before he could figure out how to adjust how he and Francis hauled the wood there when it was impassable by vehicles. The waitress carried out a covered silver dessert tray and placed it in front of me.

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly fit anything else,” I laughed, but she just smiled down at me and removed the lid. Instead of a delicious treat, on the tray was a tooth-shaped hollowed necklace, upon further inspection, I noticed six holes on the top and what was starting to form.

“It’s called an ocarina,” Michael said.

He stood up and crossed to me and reached for the necklace. He turned it over and there were another two holes on the back. I was speechless as he pulled my hair aside and tied it around my neck. It was lighter than it looked, made out of quality ceramics, and painted and glazed over. The design was simple, black on the top, fading into an ombre of blues and whites. Michael reclaimed his seat and stared at me, waiting for my reaction.

“Do you like it? I’m not sure if you’ve ever seen one, but I know music is a part of you and this way, you’ll always have a way to create it,” he explained. I wasn’t expecting to cry, but this was so thoughtful and sweet.

“I’ve heard of them before. This is amazing Michael,” I sighed as I continued to inspect my gift.

“Well, try it out, little miss prodigy,” he teased.

I chuckled, but I too was eager to give it a go. I was not an expert on all instruments, but I had played the flute a few times to understand the basics and everyone in America had played the recorder, much to our parents’ horror.

I brought the ocarina to my lips, my thumbs covering the back holes, and my fingers naturally covering the ones on the top. I blew into it and gasped as the sound came out. It was the low C and I shuffled my fingers around until I figured out the whole scale. Once that was done, I took a deep breath, flicking my tongue to change my breath as it entered the ocarina.

I began to string notes together, letting what reached my ears command my fingers to figure out the next notes. It had a whimsical sound, perfect for getting lost in the woods, or awakening sleeping, woodland creatures. Perhaps in my case, easing wolves out of their den. My eyes popped open as that crossed my mind and I jerked the ocarina from my lips. My heart pounded as I glanced around, waiting for the indoor restaurant patrons to start screaming.

“How did you do that?” Michael asked, for once not sensing my distress. Was it because of me? Did I clutter his mind, intercepting his wolf senses?

“I don’t even know. Michael, thank you, I love it. I need a lot more practice, but I can’t wait,” I said, caressing it.

“I am eager to hear what you sound like, with practice, I already feel drawn to its melody,” he said with a smile on his lips, but a haunting look in his eyes. I bet he did, I thought inwardly. Martha might be on to something, but knowing that didn’t answer any of the many questions it brought with it.

We finished the dinner, dancing around what I clearly made him feel while I played and it ended with us kissing in the car, but before we could go any further, he pulled back.

“I should get you home,” he panted. Damn that secret of his. I groaned as I kept my pout off my face.