she’s smiling warmly, but the lines between her brows also speak to the slight level of stress she’s feeling. “Don’t hesitate to call or text me. For anything. Even if you think it’s a stupid question or situation, don’t feel bad. I won’t get in trouble at work for answering. Your Pack is the best about that,” she says with genuine appreciation. “Any last questions?”
“Not that I can think of,” I tell her. “Have a good day at work.”
“Thanks,” she breaths. “You too.” She checks her phone. “Takeoff time.” She waves to me and Maggie and jogs out the door and down the front steps.
Ginny and Charlotte already left so it’s just me and Maggie now. I turn to her. “What would you like to do first today?”
Her eyes light up and her smile is like sunshine. “The park!”
We lock up, and I slip the key into my track pants and hold out my hand. “Lead the way.”
She gazes up at me in surprise. “You don’t know where it is?”
“No,” I tell her. “I’ve never been to a park.”
She stares up at me like I’ve just told her I turn into… well, something more shocking than a werewolf. Because that never fazed her. This though, this is unconscionable.
“Your parents should be ashamed of themselves,” she declares, outraged on my behalf. “They should have let you out to go to the park.”
I snort, and when she starts tugging on my hand, I follow. “My parents turned me loose to play with the rest of the Pack, just like every other werewolf. Someday, maybe I’ll show you the dens. I think you’d like them.”
Maggie traverses our path with confidence, aware of all the road rules with stoplights and looking both directions before crossing. She leads us down the wrong street at one point but doesn’t get flustered. I tell her bad jokes (which she laughs at—every one of them) while we backtrack and in two more blocks, we’re at the park.
“Ben and Vicky are here!” she announces happily. Then she glances up at me, and starts to look worried. “Are you okay, Deek?”
“Yeah,” I lie. I make her hand slip from mine. “You go play with Ben and Vicky. Have fun.”
“Okay,” she says, but she’s eyeing me with concern. “Are you scared?”
I think about lying again, but I can tell she’s too aware to believe me, so there’s no point. “Nervous would be more applicable.”
“What does applicable mean?” she asks.
“Maggie!” a young voice calls. The Vicky who Maggie was so excited about, I assume. “Are you coming to play with us?”
“Just a minute!” she calls back. “I’m helping Deek. He’s scared to be here.”
I feel my eyes widen. “Nervous,” I correct. “And applicable means it applies here.”
“I’ll race you to the slides!” a young boy calls. “If you lose, you’re a boogerface!” he announces with glee and starts running.
Maggie rolls her eyes and sighs. “That’s Ben. He’s immature.”
“BEN!” hollers a woman with all the force and volume of a drill sergeant. “Don’t call the girls boogerfaces, you boogerface!”
And against my will, my eyes are drawn to the group of adults on the far side of the playground. There are five women here; two are watching their children play, one is standing with a baby stroller, and two are walking laps around the park with strollers.
All of them are looking at me.
I drop to the ground.
“Oh no! Deek, are you hurt?” Maggie asks too loudly, concerned.
“Fine! I’m good. Fine,” I assure her, shifting so that it looks like I’m kneeling in front of her instead of lying prone on the ground. “Go have fun. I’ll be fine here.”
I will not be fine here, and I do not want her to leave me. But she’s six. For the Lord’s sake, how appropriate is it to use her as my crutch?
I need to call Finn.
And then it hits me: I forgot the cell phone. The cell phone he gave me with instructions to call him when I feel like I’m losing control. Day one, hour one, and I forgot the phone and I am losing control.
“Maggggie!” Vicky calls imploringly from a tower with a ladder and two slides coming off of it. “Hurrrrry or the sharks will get you!”
Maggie waves to her, and when she faces me again, she’s clearly torn. “Are you sure you’re—”
“You’re very sweet, Maggie. Go play.”
“Okaaay…” watching me, she backs away. But then she’s running for her friends, and the kids squeal and shout and run and climb and she waves