The pill? Condoms?”
“Excuse me, but I do not see why this concerns you.”
“If you’re using a diaphragm, make sure you hold it up to the light. Make sure there aren’t any little pinholes in there.”
“Why would there be—Are you suggesting that Red would stick pins in my diaphragm?”
My mother gave me a level glance out of eyes that had once seduced a generation of weedy young men. “Honey, that man would do anything to keep you. Lie, steal, cheat, kill, clean up after himself, and do laundry.”
I recalled waking up next to Red, unable to rememberthe events of the previous night while he had been effervescent with happiness.
Which suggested that either Magda had lied, and I could get pregnant and have a baby, or that Red didn’t know as much about therian obstetrics as Magda did.
I explained all this to my mother, who had a fairly pithy response: “I think she’s full of shit. She’s trying to brainwash you into thinking you can’t get pregnant, and you’re falling for it.”
“I don’t think it’s that simple, Mom. I mean, there is a precedent in wolves for what she’s talking about.”
My mother raised her coffee cup, and the waitress came by instantly to fill it. “I think you’re dodging the real question, which is, do you really want to start a family with Red? Do you want to settle for him?”
“I thought you liked Red.”
“He’s very likable, Abra, but he’s not exactly your intellectual equal. And I can’t see him traveling with you or visiting museums or watching any film with subtitles. He’s a small-town boy. If you need someone who can put a wounded deer out of its misery without using a gun and then butcher it up for barbecue, he’s your man. He’ll never cheat—he’s got that primitive sense of loyalty you find in dogs and children—but if you ever stray with another man—oh, don’t look at me like that, say you give Hunter one for old times’ sake—a man like Red will never forgive you. I’m not saying he’s a bad choice, just that you need to know what you’re choosing. Is Red Mallin really the man you want to father your children, Abra? If you hadn’t caught the lycanthropy virus, would you even have considered him—or would you have chosen someone more like this Malachy?”
That hit a little too close to home, so I came out swinging. “Okay, first of all, there is no chance in hell that I might ‘give one to Hunter for old times’ sake,’ as you so charmingly phrase it. Second,” I paused,thwarted by the return of the waitress. She cleared our plates so slowly it seemed almost sadistic, asking us repeatedly if we wanted anything else. Surely some amount of people-reading skill is required in your profession, I thought. Out loud, I said, “We’ll let you know.” My mother raised her eyebrows: I wasn’t usually so assertive in her presence.
When we were alone again, I said, “You make Red sound like some cliché of a redneck. I wouldn’t be with him if that’s all he was.”
“Honey, I’m not trying to put him down.”
“Of course you are. I’m just not sure what your point is: that Hunter’s really a better match for me, because he reads the
New Yorker
and likes early music? You hated Hunter, remember?”
“Abra.” My mother reached across the table and took my hand. “You’ll make whatever decision is best for you, and I’ll support you no matter what. But I want you to be honest with yourself. Red’s a lovely man, but I’ve seen a lot of women make compromises when they fall for men who aren’t their equals. Yes,” my mother insisted, tightening her grip on my fingers. “I am saying that Red isn’t your equal. Professionally, culturally, economically, and from what you say, even physically in your wolf forms, you are the more powerful partner.” She held my gaze, and I remembered that when she’d first met my father, she’d been something of a star, while my father had been a young replacement director, known in
“Excuse me, but I do not see why this concerns you.”
“If you’re using a diaphragm, make sure you hold it up to the light. Make sure there aren’t any little pinholes in there.”
“Why would there be—Are you suggesting that Red would stick pins in my diaphragm?”
My mother gave me a level glance out of eyes that had once seduced a generation of weedy young men. “Honey, that man would do anything to keep you. Lie, steal, cheat, kill, clean up after himself, and do laundry.”
I recalled waking up next to Red, unable to rememberthe events of the previous night while he had been effervescent with happiness.
Which suggested that either Magda had lied, and I could get pregnant and have a baby, or that Red didn’t know as much about therian obstetrics as Magda did.
I explained all this to my mother, who had a fairly pithy response: “I think she’s full of shit. She’s trying to brainwash you into thinking you can’t get pregnant, and you’re falling for it.”
“I don’t think it’s that simple, Mom. I mean, there is a precedent in wolves for what she’s talking about.”
My mother raised her coffee cup, and the waitress came by instantly to fill it. “I think you’re dodging the real question, which is, do you really want to start a family with Red? Do you want to settle for him?”
“I thought you liked Red.”
“He’s very likable, Abra, but he’s not exactly your intellectual equal. And I can’t see him traveling with you or visiting museums or watching any film with subtitles. He’s a small-town boy. If you need someone who can put a wounded deer out of its misery without using a gun and then butcher it up for barbecue, he’s your man. He’ll never cheat—he’s got that primitive sense of loyalty you find in dogs and children—but if you ever stray with another man—oh, don’t look at me like that, say you give Hunter one for old times’ sake—a man like Red will never forgive you. I’m not saying he’s a bad choice, just that you need to know what you’re choosing. Is Red Mallin really the man you want to father your children, Abra? If you hadn’t caught the lycanthropy virus, would you even have considered him—or would you have chosen someone more like this Malachy?”
That hit a little too close to home, so I came out swinging. “Okay, first of all, there is no chance in hell that I might ‘give one to Hunter for old times’ sake,’ as you so charmingly phrase it. Second,” I paused,thwarted by the return of the waitress. She cleared our plates so slowly it seemed almost sadistic, asking us repeatedly if we wanted anything else. Surely some amount of people-reading skill is required in your profession, I thought. Out loud, I said, “We’ll let you know.” My mother raised her eyebrows: I wasn’t usually so assertive in her presence.
When we were alone again, I said, “You make Red sound like some cliché of a redneck. I wouldn’t be with him if that’s all he was.”
“Honey, I’m not trying to put him down.”
“Of course you are. I’m just not sure what your point is: that Hunter’s really a better match for me, because he reads the
New Yorker
and likes early music? You hated Hunter, remember?”
“Abra.” My mother reached across the table and took my hand. “You’ll make whatever decision is best for you, and I’ll support you no matter what. But I want you to be honest with yourself. Red’s a lovely man, but I’ve seen a lot of women make compromises when they fall for men who aren’t their equals. Yes,” my mother insisted, tightening her grip on my fingers. “I am saying that Red isn’t your equal. Professionally, culturally, economically, and from what you say, even physically in your wolf forms, you are the more powerful partner.” She held my gaze, and I remembered that when she’d first met my father, she’d been something of a star, while my father had been a young replacement director, known in
Similar Books
