20. Davien

Chapter 20

Davien

"Davien!"

Errol's scream had the hackles rising on my neck as I raced onto the porch.

"What? The baby? Do we need an ambulance? Head to the ER?"

"No." He held up his phone, but my mind was on babies, contractions, and early delivery and I couldn't focus. "What?" I blinked, not making sense of the information on the tiny screen.

"There's a house for sale.'

We'd put the house hunting on the back burner, and while we checked the listings each week, we'd not inspected any lately. It was time-consuming, draining, and always disappointing.

"Okay."

My mate was past the all-day sickness stage and into the second trimester. He had more energy, and we had sex at least once a day. Maybe he was up for looking at rotting floorboards and damp basements. If that was what he wanted, we'd do it, but if I had a choice, I'd pass.

"Look at it." He shook the phone in my face.

I studied the image. Was this a joke? Did he want us to buy Grams's house? And did that suggest she was moving into an assisted living facility? Nope. Errol was bubbling with excitement. That wasn't it.

"This is Grams's place but maybe a few years ago ‘cause it needs painting and the hedge is much smaller than it is now."

"No, silly, it's the house next door to Grams."

I took the phone from my mate and swiped through the pics. It was identical to Grams's home, minus the extended deck she had added before I met her and Errol.

"It's just been listed, and look at the price. It won't last long. There'll be hordes of people wanting to inspect it."

It was a private listing by the owner, not through a realtor. Errol had an advantage, though, as he knew the neighbors who were downsizing and going to live with their son and his family.

"I'm going to call them now."

He paced over the porch of my place until someone answered. And I couldn't fathom how the conversation was progressing as he said, "Yes," too many times to count, "Maybe," and "Of course." I understood, "we'll drive over right now," and grabbed my keys.

"This was meant to be," he said as he pulled the seat belt over his small bump.

There were a lot of "meant to be's" in our relationship, so what was one more?

The neighbors, Pat and Sandy, were waiting outside the front door when we pulled up. It was a toss-up who was more excited, them or Errol. They pulled my mate into their embrace before hugging me.

"This house is filled with happy memories, and we want the new owners to continue that tradition," Pat told us.

The layout of the house was familiar, and the backyard was the same size as Grams's. Sandy was the gardener, so the space was an oasis away from the city lights and sounds.

"What do you think?" Errol pulled me aside. "I think it's perfect."

Before I could answer, he hustled me back to the living room and pointed at a small table in the corner. "I agree. Look!"

A landline. I'd be able to transfer the number from my current house.

It was perfect in every way.

A voice on the porch had us hurrying out the front door.

"Are you buying this house?" Grams asked.

Maybe she didn't want us being helicopter grandkids. She might feel we were smothering her.

"We're leaning toward it. Do you have an opinion?"

"You can borrow a cup of sugar from me any time, but I warn you, I will complain if you have loud parties."

I laughed, and Errol hugged Grams.

"I guess that's settled," Grams said. "And your kids can go through the gate in the fence."

Errol had done just that as a child when he played with Pat and Sandy's children.

The next few weeks were filled with paperwork, contracts, inspections, and meetings with my bank manager. We'd put my house on the market and had two families who were interested. Errol's had sold quickly, but I'd been hesitant to sell this one, just in case we needed it.

But we were stuck with clearing out decades of stuff I didn't have the heart to toss out when my grandfather died.

"Look." Errol held up an old newspaper clipping. "It's your birth announcement."

He kept that? It was pinned to a photo of him with my folks holding me as newborn, long before my parents and I became estranged. I vowed that I'd be the best parent I could be and keep my kids close for as long as possible.

"How do I get rid of any of this?" I picked up my first-grade report, pictures I'd drawn, and my grandfather's commendation from the local neighborhood watch association. It was a life. No, two lives, his and mine.

"How about we take photos and you create a digital album? You can look at it whenever you want but you won't be encumbered by all the stuff."

I liked that idea, and I set to work, ordering paperwork into piles and taking photos. But I shed more than one tear as I placed paperwork in the trash.

Having sat on the floor most of the day sorting through memories, I was exhausted, and Errol suggested a break.

"How about we give your unicorn a treat?"

Ice cream , he shouted, making my ears ring. He'd developed an unhealthy desire for the creamy concoction which couldn't have been good for his teeth.

"Such as?"

"We take him just outside town to the national park. It'd be a first."

I'd been getting braver, giving my beast more freedom, but only just outside the orchard. We'd never been in the great big outdoors where wild beasts roamed except that one time at my parents', but I'd had their beasts, who were much bigger than my unicorn, to protect us.

Please, please, please , he begged.

Okay, but the first sign of trouble and we're back to the orchard .

Errol instructed me to leave everything where it was. "It's not going anywhere."

My hands trembled as I gripped the wheel, but my unicorn couldn't contain his excitement. Even some shifters believed unicorns didn't belong in the wild but on the pages of picture books or in a mural on a kid's bedroom wall.

Errol held my hand as I emerged from the car. It was ironic that he as a human, who I'd always regarded as frail, was comforting me, the shifter.

"You're going to do great."

I got out a folding chair for my mate and undressed. My unicorn was bouncing around so much my heart skipped a beat. That wasn't good. Maybe we shouldn't shift. But I was looking for any excuse to cancel the outing. Instead, I had to gather my courage and alpha up.

Or unicorn up.

Taking his horn and hooves, my beast galloped through the trees, leaping over a fallen log, swerving around a clump of trees and hurdling a narrow stream. He skidded to a halt on discovering berries, allowing me to corral my thoughts.

The sounds of the forest—trickling water, trees rustling in the wind, rodents squeaking, and small mammals racing through the undergrowth—weren't so scary when I examined them one by one. And the firm earth beneath our hooves, the sweet berries filling my beast's mouth, and the scent of wildflowers—formed a backdrop to my unicorn's and my enjoyment.

This was what he was supposed to do, not be cooped up in a man-made orchard.

When he'd feasted enough, we made our way back to my mate.

"How was it?" he asked as I dressed.

"Magnificent. And my unicorn thanks you."

On the drive home, Errol cradled his belly and asked how I could introduce our child to the big wide world if they were a unicorn shifter.

"I'll lead by example and guide them to trust their instinct."

We entered the house and were confronted with the mess we'd left behind, but after shifting, I was energized and told my mate to relax while I set a timer and went through each item before putting most of it in the garbage.

"We're starting a new chapter." Errol was in bed reading when I crawled in beside him. "Not only us as a couple with a baby on the way and a new home, but you and your unicorn too."

Being in a different house, one that was ours rather than what I'd inherited, was exciting but tinged with sadness at saying goodbye to the home I'd shared with my grandfather. But I was looking forward, not back.

Except for one thing; the landline.

Transferring the number to the new place was proving to be more difficult than I imagined. But this was non-negotiable.

Someone, not a mate but a stranger in trouble, might call in the middle of the night, needing help, and I wanted to be able to give it to them.