of the pins down.
I will never understand bowling. One second I’m in the gutter, and the next I land a strike. I return to the chairs, but I don’t sit. What am I supposed to do now? He acts like this isn’t a big deal, but it is. I broke a promise, and everyone besides Ed will see it that way, including Allen.
“You want to know what you did right?” Ed asks.
“What?”
He smiles at me. “You let go at the right time. It's an important lesson to learn, if you ask me.”
Ugh. Is Ed really trying to teach me some kind of object lesson through bowling?
“Bonds are not like bowling, Ed.”
He stands up and brushes off his ragged jeans. “I don’t know. I think sometimes bonds are exactly like bowling. But what do I know? I’m just an old man.” His eyes twinkle during that last line.
“What should I do?” I ask. “I think I’ve broken the omega’s heart. And if anyone found out—”
Ed holds up his hand. “You’re asking the wrong question. This isn’t about what you should or shouldn’t do. It’s about the kind of life you want. If you take another mate, the other penguin shifters may never forgive you for it. They may never forgive your kids either. Your life as you know it could be over. Can you make a different life with this man? Would you rather live your life with him than with your community?”
I can’t ask my kids to go through that. They’ve already been through too much. And besides, this isn’t just about me or the kids.
“Allen. I committed myself to Allen.”
Ed nods. “I know. But I want to ask you a question, and I need you to really think about it. Your oldest. Jesse, right? What if they grew up and found a wonderful mate? And what if that mate died when they were thirty-five? Would you want them to spend the rest of their life alone?”
The idea of Jesse losing their mate at a young age makes me sick to my stomach. I would never want them to feel this degree of loneliness.
“The thing about traditions is that if people never challenge them, they never change. Twenty years from now penguin shifters will still be losing their mates. What do you want that to look like?” Ed asks.
So now Ed wants me to be some kind of example for future widowers?
“But Allen—”
“Allen isn’t like that ball. He’s never coming back. This is it, Sam. This is your life. What are you going to do with it?”
9
Lu
Once Mary is in bed for the evening, and I’m deep into the graphic design jobs that are due this weekend, there’s a knock at the door.
I don’t have a lot of visitors who don’t call or text me first. Without even opening the door, I’m pretty sure I know who it is. I set my laptop on the couch and jump up to answer it.
Cyrano, or Cy, as my brother calls him, is standing at the door with a carton of strawberries and a box of tea. He used to bring over vodka until I finally confessed that I don’t like alcohol.
“The strawberries are for Mary,” Cy steps inside and walks toward the oven.
“Thank you. She’ll love them.”
Cy grabs the tea kettle off the stove and fills it with water. Despite coming over to my place to talk, he’s not a very talkative guy. I think he just likes the company. I might be suspicious that he had feelings for me, if he weren’t so taken with my brother.
“Axe will be flying in next Friday,” I tell him.
He shrugs, as if it doesn’t matter to him. He’s just as full of shit as my brother. They act like their relationship is over now that Axe has been banished to the Slope, but every time Axe is about to come into town, Cy comes over for tea. And every time I pick up Axe from the airport, he casually asks how the shop is doing, even in July when the shop is closed.
Cy is the one who runs our shop. He’s really asking about Cy.
“How’s Pebble Gifting Season going?” I ask.
He leans against the counter. Like the alphas who work with metal magic, Cy doesn’t wear a thick coat in the winter. He simply has a black leather jacket. The shoulders of the jacket are wide, almost like the power suits from the 80’s. In that jacket, it’s hard to tell if he’s an