Chapter Twenty-One

June

The town was picturesque, with a group of cute little houses, painted fun colors, by the water. Dom pulled up by a tiny place that looked to be a diner. There were a couple of other cars there, probably a good sign since it was after breakfast but not quite lunch yet, and they still had customers anyway. Dom turned off the engine and slid out of the driver's seat. I followed his lead, but before I had the door on my side of the car fully open, he was already there and offering me a hand to step down out of the SUV.

"Thank you." I took his hand and stepped down. The breeze off the water was cool, and Dom's hand was pleasantly warm.

There weren't many seats, and two of the only tables in the place had been pushed together for a group of old men who were sitting and drinking coffee surrounded by their empty breakfast plates. The waitress was leaning against the counter, talking to them as if this was a daily ritual.

Dom slid into a booth where he had eyes on the door, and I sat on the other side. The booth was clean, if a bit run-down by the years. The laminated menus had seen better days, and it looked like they were kept behind the napkin dispensers on the tables full time. I reached for one and glanced at it to see what this mystery dish was, but Dom gave me a sly smile as he took the menu out of my hand.

"No cheating," he said, and put the menu back in place as the waitress came up.

"You kids know what you'd like to drink?" she asked. She had a grandmother's smile, and her gray perm was neat in the front and a little wild in the back, where it would be harder to maintain. Her pink apron was ironed within an inch of its life.

"Coffee, please," I said.

"Water, thanks. And is it too early to order lunch?" Dom asked.

"No, honey. Are you ready to order?" she asked.

"Two poutines," Dom said.

"Okay, kids, just a minute." Our waitress went over to the pass-through window and talked to the cook.

"You're really not going to tell me what it is?" I asked Dom.

"No." He grinned. "You'll just have to wait and find out."

"But what about my food allergy?" I asked.

His face fell for a moment. "You have an allergy?"

I stared at him for a moment until I couldn't hold my composure anymore. Then when I started giggling, Dom grunted at me.

"Tease," he said.

"I couldn't help it." I giggled. "I don't get many opportunities to get back at you."

"You don't really have an allergy, do you?" he asked.

"Actually, I'm allergic to kiwis, but I feel pretty safe in assuming that's not an ingredient in your dish from rural Canada." I winked at him.

He sighed with a smile. "It's not just rural Canada that likes poutine, it originated in Quebec and spread from there. But, yes, it's kiwi-free."

"Here you go, kids." The waitress set my coffee in front of me and water in front of Dom. She also set down a saucer of creamer packets and sugars.

Thanking her, I lifted the cup to my nose and took a deep breath before adding cream. I was glad to have a taste of coffee again; I didn't usually go so many days without it.

We watched the window while we waited. There was almost no traffic here, a definite change from Seattle; though a light mist was beginning to fall, and that definitely reminded me of the Pacific Northwest.

The sliding of heavy plates across the table brought my attention back to the present.

"Enjoy."

When I was sure the waitress was gone, I asked Dom. "What are these bits in it?"

Dom chuckled and pointed to the different parts of his own plate. "Here you have French fries. Those ‘bits' as you call them are cheese curds. Top it off with brown gravy."

"That does not seem good for the arteries," I said, looking down at my own plate and picking up a fork. "I can do this with a fork, right? Tell me this doesn't have to be finger food."

Dom laughed. "Eat it however you want. Just give it a chance and I'll be happy."

"Okay." I cut a fry in half and got a little bit of everything on my fork. I shrugged, took a bite, and let it sit on my tongue as I chewed very slowly.

I swallowed. "It's interesting. Definitely not bad, just different."

Dom shrugged and downed a huge bite. "Welcome to Canada."

I laughed at him. "You really need to stop welcoming me to Canada or Newfoundland every time I see something local."

Dom smirked and snatched a fry off of my plate.

"Hey!" I snapped.

"Clean your plate or I'll do it for you." He winked. "We've got errands to run."

"All right, hold your horses," I muttered, but I couldn't stop myself from grinning as well.

This was so easy, this time alone with Dom. A part of me ached that it would all have to end, but it wasn't likely we'd be hanging out again when I went back. Watching him as we ate in comfortable silence, I realized I would miss this more than I would have imagined possible. When had it become so easy to be around him?

Breakfast, or maybe it was lunch, was good. The food grew on me as I ate it, and I almost regretted that I wouldn't have it nearby when I went back to Seattle.

I was going back to Seattle, right?

The waitress was kind enough to give me a to-go cup of coffee after seeing how much I was enjoying it. Dom paid, and we left.

Next was the store. The small building looked like it had once been a warehouse or something with its metal siding and industrial beams. Nonetheless, here it sat now as a store run by the lumberjack from the paper towel commercials. He greeted us with a big smile and a wave as I wove through the shelves looking for things from Jerod's list.

There wasn't a large stock of most of the items. It reminded me a bit of trying to buy groceries at a gas station. Nothing was given much shelf space, and the whole room was used as efficiently as possible to get a little bit of a lot of things on display.

At least most of the important basics were covered, so some of Jerod's items were actually not that hard to find. But part of the list was . . . eccentric.

"I can't find a few of these things," I said, showing Dom the list. "Actually, I never knew a few of these things could be called groceries."

"Some of this just won't be possible," Dom said. "Moss from a south facing tree? How does a tree face south?"

I shrugged. "I have the rice, soy sauce, chocolate chips, lighter, and stuff like that. I don't have the last half of the list, though."

Dom kept scanning and reading out loud. "Pickled pigs' feet, comb of a rooster, dried grasshoppers. Those he can get the good old-fashioned way. I'm sure he could find someone in the village who's going to butcher a rooster at some point, and we can possibly get pigs' feet if he wants to pickle them himself."

I pulled a bottle off a nearby shelf. "I don't know anything about pickling, but I think you use vinegar for it."

"Heh, good call. Let him figure it out on his own. Are we done here?" Dom asked.

I looked over the list. "I think so. Now for clothes."

We paid at the counter, and I asked the man where we could find somewhere that sold clothes nearby. The closest place was not far, but it was only going to have essentials.

"Are there no bigger stores for this kind of stuff around here?" I asked. "I feel like this can't be the only kind of store here."

"There are better options," Dom said, pulling onto the main road again and turning north. "But they're a ways away. I don't want to be off pack lands longer than I need to be. You, too, New Bite. It's not always safe for a lone wolf, especially a lone wolf who can't shift yet."

I tried not to think about what Dom said as we entered the next store. There were a lot of goods that we didn't need, mostly pertaining to blue collar work in the area. Boating things, fishing things, outdoorsy things. It had a definite influence on the kind of clothing I had to pick from. I had a whopping five men's shirts to choose between, two kinds of pants, and one kind of underwear and socks, both in bulk plastic packaging.

"Close enough," Dom said, tossing things in the basket.

"Sorry, Jerod. No dress shirts in sight," I said.

"He's going to have to deal with jeans too." Dom chuckled as we carried our things to the front counter.

I got out my phone by habit to check the time as we walked, then stopped dead in my tracks. My phone. It was working.

"Everything okay, New Bite?" Dom asked.

It was Roaming, but at least I had signal. Not that I'd used any data for days now, surely I had enough left for some calls and texts.

"I . . . yes. Can you pay?" I handed him the bills I had left. "I need to step outside for a minute." Dom's eyes flicked to the phone in my hand. "You can trust me. I understand now. I really do. But I have loved ones who need to know I'm alive."

Dom nodded curtly and took the bills I handed him.

"Thank you." I spun and raced out the door to the parking lot.

I scrolled through my texts. Kat, my boss, some co-workers, a neighbor I would walk with sometimes. I quickly replied with excuses to buy more time. Next, I called Kat.

It rang, and I briefly thought about the time difference and if she would even be awake. I shouldn't have worried because she answered quickly.

"June Bug!" she squealed. "You're alive."

"I sure am," I said. "I don't have long, and I don't have great reception. Fill me in."

"First, are you okay?" she asked. "I had a terrible dream and I keep worrying about you. Take a picture so I know you're alive."

"Kat . . ."

"I'm hanging up now. I'll call you when I get a selfie." The line went dead.

"Seriously?" I turned on the camera, fixed my hair to the best of my abilities, took the selfie, and sent it to her.

She gave me a long stream of emojis, mostly hearts, in reply, and the screen lit up with her face as she called back.

"You are alive!" she said.

"Yes, Kat." I sighed. "I'm alive."

"Okay, so Mrs. Pataki isn't going to open the deli again."

"Oh no," I said.

"It's okay, she's got a cousin-in-law, is that a thing? Anyway, she's got someone who owns a grocery store and is about to open a sandwich area. They're willing to take the whole team. The timing couldn't have been better, the renovations for the sandwich counter will be done in two months."

"That's fantastic!"

"Bills are paid, and it looks like we'll be afloat until my new job starts. How are things on your end?"

"My end?" I asked.

"Your family emergency, duh," Kat said.

"Oh." I looked through the window where Dom was exiting the store. "It's going . . . okay. I'll be here a bit longer. I'll be in touch as soon as I can. Reception is bad out here. Actually, Kat, I gotta go. But you're sure everything is okay back home?"

"Yes, June Bug. You worry about you, okay?"

"Deal."

"Bye, love. Long distance hugs," Kat said.

I laughed. "Bye, Kat."

"Everything all right?" Dom asked as I pocketed my phone.

"Home is still in one piece," I said.

"Ready to go?"

We got into the SUV and Dom left. We had a quick gas station stop, then back onto the highway and back to Moonpeak. I took the last sip out of my to-go coffee and watched the scenery pass by. I missed Kat, that was for sure.

But I was starting to wonder exactly how much I'd miss this place, too, once my shift was complete.