Meg wasn’t sure how long she’d been staring at the three-ring binder that held the names and contact information for Intuit companies. But when she became aware of the sorting room again, she was startled to see Twyla Montgomery standing on the other side of the table.
“Miss Twyla. What . . . ?”
“Didn’t want to disturb you while your mind was wandering,” Twyla said gently.
“Arroo?” The click of nails on the floor in the front room as Nathan hustled to find out what was going on in the sorting room.
“It’s all right,” Meg said, looking at the watch Wolf, who had his front legs braced on the counter.
“I know this is an off-limits place,” Twyla began.
“For the children,” Meg said hurriedly.
“You got reasons for your rules, and those reasons should be respected.” Seeing Meg’s scars, Twyla’s dark eyes held neither pity nor discomfort. “But I believe in earning my keep. The folks running the Courtyard are looking at what skills are available to them, and they’ll sort out the work as soon as they can. In the meantime, I can help with the dusting and mopping if that would be of use to you. I noticed the back room could use a bit of shine. And there’s bound to be plenty of loose hairs coating the floor in that front room.” She winked at Meg.
Nathan growled and went back to his Wolf bed.
“Thank you,” Meg said. “I haven’t kept up with cleaning.”
“Mind if I ask what you’re doing?”
“This binder holds the names of companies owned or run by the Intuits. I’m supposed to order as much as I can from them from now on so that the people in Lakeside can’t complain that we’re taking rationed goods away from them. And I have lists of things people would like to buy in the Market Square grocery store. But some things . . . People have listed a dozen different kinds of cereal, and I don’t know how to choose.”
“How many kinds of cereal does that store have now?”
“I’m not sure. The Others eat a lot more meat than cereal.”
Moving slowly, Twyla eased around the table until she stood beside Meg and could look at the lists.
“Which of these do you think something like himself would eat?” Twyla tipped her head to indicate Nathan. “Or those Crows?”
“Sierra gave me this list of cereals the children would want. . . .”
Twyla shook her head. “Children will pester and pester for something until you buy it, and then they won’t want it anymore. Don’t you be thinking about that. You just think about what’s useful to the most residents.” She tapped a list. “Oatmeal is a winter cereal that can be fancied up with berries and nuts and a bit of sweetening. If you can get them, order a cereal made from corn and another made of oats—things you can eat by the handful if you need something quick. Those who want something different can buy it at another store or do without.”
“Tess said something like that.” Actually Tess had said if humans didn’t want to eat what was offered in the Courtyard they could feast on their stubbornness and starve.
Twyla gave Meg’s hand a little pat. “Don’t you let everybody else’s wants get you flustered. Whether it has two legs or four, just because a pup yaps at you doesn’t mean you have to pay it any mind. Now, I’ll let you get back to your work while I put a bit of shine to the back room.”
Listening to Twyla singing in the back room, Meg put aside the binder and the lists. Yes, she felt flustered, but it wasn’t really about the foods and merchandise people wanted. Worrying about things like cereal was a way to avoid the question that had been in her thoughts ever since she pulled that “romance” card from the drawer.
How much human did she want? In many ways, she counted on Simon not thinking like a human, not acting like a human. She trusted him because he wasn’t human. Could she count on him not slipping too far into being human if she wanted to explore just a little bit, just enough to see if romance might provide a different kind of euphoria?
She frittered away the afternoon, signing for a couple of deliveries, but mostly shuffling the lists without doing anything with them.
Just how human could Simon be without giving up what he was? Was there a way to find an answer without either of them getting hurt?
Nathan had left for the day, and she was closing up the office when Simon walked in, looking hot and ready to bite.
“I want to go swimming tonight,” Meg said, not sure if she was making a suggestion or issuing a challenge.
“With the female pack?”
Understandable assumption. The female pack would need permission to go to the swimming hole in the Corvine part of the Courtyard. “No, with you. Just us. Not even Sam.”
Simon cocked his head. “Not with Sam? Why?”
She swallowed hard. “I want to try skinny-dipping.”
He was so still, she wasn’t sure he was even breathing.
“That’s swimming without clothes,” he finally said.
“Yes.”
“Both of us swimming without clothes. In human form.”
“Yes. But . . . that’s as much as I want to try.”
“After dark?”
She couldn’t imagine doing it when she could be seen. “Yes.”
Simon scratched behind one ear. “All right. Are we going home now?”
He didn’t sound angry or upset that she didn’t want to do more. He sounded . . . baffled.
They finished closing up the office and loaded the BOW with her carry sack and whatever he was bringing back to the apartments. As they drove away, it occurred to her that she was just as relieved to leave the humans behind as he was.
? ? ?
“Meg wants to go skinny-dipping?”
That Vlad sounded as baffled as he felt made Simon feel better. At least he wasn’t the only one who was confused. “That’s what she said. With me. After dark. With both of us in human form.”
“None of us wear clothes when we play in the water unless we’re giving the clothes a quick rinse without removing them.”
“I know that. But this is important to Meg. I just don’t know why.” Simon growled in frustration. She’d been upset the last time she saw him as a naked human. Why was this time different?
Vlad took a restless turn around Simon’s living room. “I read a couple of those kissy books before I sent them on to Prairie Gold.”
“Really? Why?”
Vlad shrugged.
“Did the books mention skinny-dipping?” Simon thought for a moment. “Do you think Meg read those books?”
“Don’t know, but I’m wondering if this is a step in human courtship, another kind of play before the female is ready to mate.”
“Ruthie and Kowalski weren’t skinny-dipping in the winter before they mated,” Simon argued.
“But showering together is considered pre-mating play.”
Simon threw himself on the sofa. “This isn’t helping.”
Vlad sat beside him. “How much human is the terra indigene going to keep?” He paused, then added quietly, “How much human are you going to absorb?”
The possibility of losing the Wolf, the essential part of his nature, scared him. But Meg didn’t want, didn’t trust, a male who was a human human. She needed him to retain the Wolf.
What did the Elders need and want from the Others living in the Lakeside Courtyard? There hadn’t been a new form of terra indigene in a very long time.
He wasn’t ready to shoulder the weight of that possibility. And Meg certainly wasn’t ready. But play would be good.
“Are you going to tell Meg that the Elders are curious enough about the howling not-Wolf that they’re going to return to the Courtyard?” Vlad asked.
“No. I think the skinny-dipping will be enough excitement for one night.”
? ? ?
They drove to the swimming hole. Since Vlad hadn’t been much help, Simon had considered asking one of the human pack about human courtship, but he decided against it. Meg was no more knowledgeable than he, so this was just another thing they would figure out together.