Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Grams and I began cooking for Thanksgiving the next day. I hadn't told her what had happened with Kyle, but she could tell something was wrong. I had, however, called Bree. She said she was coming over and I decided to wait until she got here to tell Grams.

"Are you okay? You look tired today," Grams said.

I stared at the pumpkin filling I was mixing up. Grams was making the pie crusts. "I didn't sleep well."

"Did Bran upset you last night?" She fitted the crust into the pie plates, using a fork to crimp the edges against the rim.

I whisked the filling again, getting it ready to pour into the pie shells. "We didn't see each other last night. There was a football game at the high school, and sometimes Bran goes with a few of his friends to support the kids. I had no idea he likes sports, but apparently he does. And since I don't like football, it's fine that he goes with his buddies."

I poured the filling into the pie shells and we carefully set them on cookie sheets. We were making six pies: two pumpkin, two apple, and two pecan. Since they froze well, they were the first things we were working on. As I finished filling the shells, the doorbell rang. Grams took over, carrying them to the oven while I answered the door.

I opened it to find Bree standing there. Behind her, the yard was filled with mist, rolling across the grass like some ghostly wave. The sky reflected the silvery tint of the mist, and in some places it looked like heaven was meeting earth.

"I hope you turned on your headlights on the way over." I stood back so she could enter the house. Gem's head popped up, but she yawned and went back to sleep on the cat condo.

"Of course. Traffic's bad enough as it is around here, the last thing I need to do is have an accident. The fog is so thick on the road that I drove twenty miles an hour on the way over." She shrugged off her jacket and hung it on the coat tree, then stopped by the pellet stove, holding her hands over it to catch the radiating heat. "It smells like snow, but we're not due for at least a month."

"We could have snow early. It's always wetter and colder around here during winter when it's a La Ni?a year." I nodded toward the kitchen. "Come in and help us. We're cooking for next week. We're making the pies early, and we'll make the rolls early, freeze them, and bake them when we're there. We're also making cookies and some other assorted goodies."

"That sounds good. Can I get a caramel latte?" Bree followed me into the kitchen and I pointed her over to the espresso machine. She'd been here often enough that she knew how to use it.

"The caramel syrup is in the cupboard right above it. You know where the mugs are."

Grams was making another batch of dough. I sat down at the counter on a high stool and started to peel apples.

"Good morning," Grams said, flashing a smile at Bree. "How are you doing?"

"I closed up the shop for next week. I decided I could use a vacation. Or rather, staycation. I'm not going anywhere for anybody, except for Thanksgiving. I figured I can use the time to catch up on decorating the house, clearing out some old stuff I wanted to get rid of, and bingeing on some of the shows I've missed over the past few months." She carried her mug over to the counter and sat on the stool next to me. "If you have another peeler, I'll help you with those."

I found a second vegetable peeler and handed it to her. We were using a mixture of Granny Smith apples and Honeycrisp apples. The pairing produced tart and tasty pies.

Bree glanced over at Grams. "Did you tell her about Kyle?"

"I was waiting till you got here, so that I wouldn't have to repeat myself. I gave you the highlights yesterday, but I didn't tell you what he told me after I called him back." What I hadn't told Bree was that the council didn't want Faron to have anything to do with me.

Grams looked up from the bowl of pie crust ingredients that she was mixing together. "I knew there was something wrong."

"Yeah, I wasn't in a mood to talk about it last night. I'm still processing it and before you ask, I haven't told Bran yet about this. That's a discussion for a different time." I tossed the apple I had finished peeling into the bowl of lemon water. Since we were also making an apple cobbler, I decided that it would be most expedient to peel all the apples first, and then slice them up and divide them between the pies and the cobbler dish.

Grams poured cold water over the crumbly mixture of flour and butter. "All right, go ahead," she said, beginning to work the dough. She wore disposable gloves, which made the job easier because the dough didn't stick to them like it did to skin.

As we worked away, I told them about everything that had happened. And then I told them about Kyle's phone call. "I don't know what to do. I can't go over there and barge in and confront Faron. He's dealing with enough pain—and I do mean physical pain—as it is. Those migraines are nothing to joke about. And stress makes them worse."

"First, do you know for sure that the council told Kyle this?" Grams asked. "Do you think that maybe he's fallen for you himself and doesn't want you and Faron back together? You have kept him company all these months while Faron was in a coma. I wouldn't be surprised if he hasn't developed some feelings for you himself."

That was something I hadn't thought about. In fact, the thought of Kyle falling for me seemed ridiculous.

"We're good friends, or we were until yesterday, but I don't think I'm Kyle's type at all. I could be wrong, but I can see the Pack elders pulling something like this. And remember, wolf shifters and witches traditionally do not get along. I'm not sure where the division began, but I remember my mother teaching me that when I was young."

"I know where the animosity began," Grams said. "At one time, witches and shifters—including wolf shifters—worked together. But during the Inquisition, the witch hunters made bargains with the wolf shifters. They would leave them untouched if the wolf shifters handed witches over to them. Back then there were more consolidated groups, and the King of the Black Forest Wolf Pack, who ruled over a good deal of the northern European wolf shifters, agreed. The Queen of Witches at that time—Queen Rose Willow—called for a blood feud. Ever since then, wolf shifters and witches have been at odds."

Both Bree and I stared at her.

"I had no idea," I finally said. "What the hell? Otherkin usually stand united, especially against humans. I mean, the relationship between the two has evolved a lot over the past couple hundred years, but that's horrible." The thought that the wolf shifter king had basically turned us over to a bunch of torturing bigots turned my stomach.

Bree shook her head. "I can't imagine the cat shifters agreeing to something like that."

Grams shook her head. "They didn't. Not one of the cat shifter nations agreed. Nor did the bear shifters. It was the wolves that turned on the witches."

"If it really is the council's will that you and Faron stay away from each other, what are you going to do?" Bree asked. "Can he overrule them?"

"No," Grams said. "The King has powers, but he has to defer to the elders and to tradition."

I glanced at her, eyebrows arched. "How do you know so much about the wolf shifters?"

She blushed. "Since my great-granddaughter decided she wanted to get romantically involved with one."

With a blink, I said, "Well then." I finished peeling the last apple. We emptied the peelings into the compost bucket. I handed Bree a plastic cutting sheet and a clean knife, and together we began to slice the apples. "Chunk the ones for the apple crumble. Why don't you work on that—that dish needs to be filled to just below the brim. I'll start slicing them for the pies."

I tossed my apple slices into a bowl so that Grams could coat them with cornstarch and add sugar and spices before putting them in the pie shells.

"Do you think Faron will remember again?" Grams asked.

"I hope so. Maybe? I don't really know and at this point, I'm not going to speculate. But if he does, what's he going to do? If he can't go against the elders and still retain the throne, I don't expect him to choose me." I shrugged after a minute. "I guess I'll have to wait and see."

And that…that was going to be hard for me to do.

By the time the pies were finished and cooling on the counter, waiting to be put in the freezer, it was early afternoon. Grams opened a couple cans of tomato soup while Bree and I made grilled cheese sandwiches. I fixed another round of lattes for Bree and me, and some tea for Grams, and we settled at the table in the newly cleaned kitchen. The crumble was still baking, and after scolding Fancypants for trying to sneak a bite of pumpkin pie, we discussed our plans for the afternoon.

"I want to make several batches of cookies. How many will be at the table?" Grams asked.

"Aunt Ciara, my mother, you and me, May and Bran, and Bree. So that's seven."

"We'll plan for ten. One thing I have learned over the years, always make more than you think you need. You can always freeze the leftovers, but if someone shows up at the table unannounced, it's better to have enough to feed them, especially on a holiday. I bought the turkey. We'll prepare the mashed potatoes when we're there. We can make the gravy in advance, also the cranberry sauce and the dough for the rolls. I'm not familiar with American Thanksgiving, so what else will we need?"

"Some form of sweet potato casserole. A lot of people like green beans during Thanksgiving, so I suggest we buy some fresh beans. I'm not making that ugly green bean casserole. We need to decide on what kind of stuffing for the turkey we want." I pursed my lips, trying to think of what else we would need.

"Is it too much to ask that we don't have marshmallows on the sweet potatoes?" Bree asked. "I don't mind them being caramelized, but marshmallows on the potatoes make them way too sweet."

"Why don't we bake them in their jackets and then whoever wants sweet potato can have one?" I suggested.

"That saves us one more dish to make, so I'm good with it." Grams leaned back in her chair. "What kind of cookies do we want to make?"

"Chocolate chip, chocolate with peanut butter chips, oatmeal white chocolate cranberry… And I think it would be nice to have a big bowl of nuts. I know people like to buy them in the shell, but I'd rather buy them ready to eat. It's easier and less messy." I sipped my latte and then dug into my lunch. It was blustery outside, and while the mist had disappeared, the sky looked suspiciously dark. The weather forecast called for icy rain and wind. I loved autumn. November may have seemed bleak, but I loved it, and the holidays that sparkled it up.

"I think I'll start decorating for Yule this afternoon," I said. "Bree, want to help? We can make a full day of it, watch movies, put up decorations, order pizza for dinner?"

"I have to run home and let the boys out first, but that sounds good to me."

"Bring them back with you. That way you can let them out here, and they can rest inside the covered patio. We can fix up a warm blanket for them out there."

"Well, if we're going to decorate for Yule, I'm going to make some gingerbread, too." Grams ladled more soup into her bowl and then offered the ladle to me.

By the time we were finished with lunch, the crumble was done. Bree hurried home to grab the dogs, while I headed out to the shed to find the decorations. I managed to wrangle the seven-foot tree into the house on my own, and then carried in the boxes. I was halfway through when Bree showed up again. She let the dogs run around and play while we finished sorting through the decorations.

We spent the afternoon in a flurry of decorating and baking and eating. By the time we finished it was eight p.m ., and the house sparkled with garlands and lights and all sorts of shiny things. As we settled down for a dinner of pizza and soda, it occurred to me that I hadn't thought about Kyle all afternoon. Keeping busy was a good way to take my mind off things, but now, the concern over what had happened flooded back. I realized that the situation wasn't going to resolve on its own.

After Bree went home, I called Bran. He answered on the first ring.

"How'd the game go?" I asked, curling up on the sofa with Gem in my lap. Silver was staring at the tree, but so far neither he nor Gem had made a play for any of the ornaments. I made sure that their cat condo was near enough that they might choose it over the tree.

"We won against Bremerton. I have to say, Starlight Hollow's high school football team is pretty good. They're called the Clam Divers." He sounded relaxed. "I suppose you wouldn't want to go to the game next Saturday with me?"

I groaned. "You know I don't want to sit outside in the cold watching a bunch of young men run around with a ball. I love you, but can't you find another game buddy?"

"Oh, sure. Russell will go with me. I thought I'd offer you the first chance."

"I'd rather do other things with you than that. I can think of one sport we can practice together," I said, lowering my voice to a purr.

"That beats football any day," Bran said. "Would you like me to come over tonight? We can have a practice run."

As much as I wanted to curl up in his arms, to feel his hands on me, I knew that first, I had to tell him what happened with Kyle. It affected Bran as well as me.

"I want to see you, yes. For one thing, we're inundated with cookies from an afternoon of baking. And you can see the decorations that Bree and I put up today. However, I have something serious to tell you. So if you could come over, it would be a good thing. I can't promise great sex tonight, although it might happen. But I need to talk."

"I'll be right there," Bran said. Before I could say goodbye, he had hung up. I sat there staring at the flames in the wood stove, the sparkling lights on the tree, wondering what Bran would say when I told him what had happened.