A Mate for Lu - Amy Bellows Page 0,54
computer screen when my in-laws came over for dinner, and completely forgot about it until I invited them into my office to go over a spreadsheet, and the enormous glistening dragon dick completely dominated the screen. I couldn’t show my face to them for weeks,” the man next to me says.
The group laughs uproariously. By the time the truck stops, several other conversations have started. Everyone is clearly very comfortable with one another.
Ed opens the back door, and we all pile out. The lights to the sad “Fairy Bowling” sign are on, even though it’s the middle of the night. Ed unlocks the entrance and gestures for me to enter. On the front counter is a black and white striped shirt with the words “The Cheating Bastards” in bright blue. Next to the shirt is a blue ball.
“We all have matching blue balls,” Ed says, elbowing me. “Get it?”
I roll my eyes.
The masked people take off their coats to reveal shirts matching the one on the counter. Then their masks come off. They’re all from the widow and widower support group—the people who found second mates and stopped coming.
Because we judged them.
I pick up my brand new shirt. “Thank you, Ed.”
He’s the only one here who’s still going to the other support group. When the loneliness got to me and my feelings for Lu became too intense to ignore, he was the one who pushed me (not too gently) toward a better life. If it hadn’t been for him, I might still be wallowing in my grief, instead of loving Lu openly.
“Bill and I always wanted a family, but he died too young for us to have kids together. So I mentor you bastards as an alternative.” Ed maintains a smile, but there’s something serious in his voice.
I give him a side hug. “I’d be honored to be a part of your family.”
Maybe Ed didn’t take another mate, but he still moved on in his own way. And he deserves to. I think we all do.
Someone claps me on the back and Megan whoops as she and the others take their place at the first bowling lane.
“We get Ed on our team!” Megan calls out.
“You got Ed last week,” One of the guys says. “We get him this week. It’s only fair.”
Ed shrugs. “What can I say? I’m a good luck charm.”
I laugh and grab my blue ball from the counter. This may not be the community I grew up with, but it’s still a community. And I think it fits me better.
“I’ll be on whatever team gets Ed,” I say.
It’s time to bowl.
37
Lu
It takes me three weeks to get into the doctor Ansel recommended. She’s a specialist who primarily works with mixed-species couples. Before we can see her, I have to pee in a cup, get my blood drawn, step on a scale, and drink six cups of water to prepare for the ultrasound.
By the time we get to the examination room, I’m nauseous, despite Sam’s warm arm around my shoulders.
The doctor is a curvy woman with brown skin and a clipboard clutched to her chest. “Good morning, Lutz. Your pregnancy test came back positive, which shouldn’t be a surprise. We just like to do a test before we get started. It says here that you’re a polar bear shifter, and your partner is a penguin shifter? Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s get the ultrasound out of the way so you can go to the bathroom. We need to figure out what species of shifter your child is in your womb, and if they’re encased in an egg. Will you lie down and pull up your shirt?”
Sam helps me get on the observation chair. I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep the water down long enough for the ultrasound to work. As the doctor squirts some cold jelly on my abdomen, Sam holds my hand.
She pulls a machine on wheels closer to us, and detaches a wand with a knobby end. “What we’re looking for here is the skeletal structure of your child. If it’s in its penguin form, the skeleton should be starting to calcify by now. We may not be able to see an egg, but we should know for sure if it’s a bird. If it’s a polar bear shifter, it may be harder to detect. The gestation period is three times as long.”
She flips the screen behind us on and presses the wand to my belly.
“Does a baby ever shift species in the womb?” Sam