Book1 Chapter9
Friday has me knocking on Cora’s door for my routine visit. Kennedy is the one who opens the door, holding the young pup in her arms. Not looking directly at her, I keep my head down slightly. It’s easier for me this way. I don’t want to look at someone I’m jealous of.
Sitting on the couch next to Cora is the Luna. I can do this. I need to just start getting used to this. They will always visit new mothers. This is just how it is.
“Good afternoon, Luna Catherine, Kennedy.” I nod in both of their directions, and my voice doesn’t crack. It stays solid and
comfortable, even to my ears.
“Cora, I brought you some chicken soup and bread.” This helps a female in the first week, not having to make food. It’s good on their stomachs to not have anything too heavy to digest.
“Thank you, Rya. Your soups are so good.” Cora gets up off the couch, pressing her cheek to mine in greeting.
“How are you feeling?”
“Good. I feel so much better.”
“How’s the breastfeeding going? Any issues?”
“No, I think I’m getting the hang of it.” I assess this female in front of me for any hidden lies. She just has very tired eyes
that stare back, but nothing else.
“Well, I’ll just weigh her and let you get on with your day.”
I put my bag on the table and take out the weight. Kennedy hands me the female. I have to try not to shake, because all I can smell is him. He’s all over her. A quick glance at her neck and it’s all red and irritated. It looks as if it hurts. Males, they
love to bite.
I have to get used to this, just another hurdle to get over.
“Rya, how are you? Do you have everything you need at the clinic?” The Luna’s now standing beside me with gentle eyes. I look away, concentrating on stripping the female pup from her clothes and diaper.
“Yes, thank you.” Weighing the infant,I write the information down in my notebook. I wrap her back up nice and warm. I
give her a little smell. I love the scent of newborns.
“Cora, she’s doing perfectly fine. Dr. Valentine wants you to bring her in next week. I’ll be done with the both of you unless
you need me for anything. Just call.”
“Rya, thank you so much for everything. I don’t know what I would have done without you. Thank you.” She’s the one who
wraps her arms around me with tears in her eyes ingratitude.
“You did all the work. I just helped guide Mother Nature along. I mean it. Call if you need anything.”
“Goodbye, Luna, Kennedy.” Bowing slightly in a show of respect, I ease out of the house that holds his scent.
My legs are shaking so bad that I almost have a hard time walking away. Why does this have to be so hard? I’m trying to
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compose myself when the door opens again. It’s the Luna.
She closes the door behind her, making her way to me. I’mtrying with everything I have to control my emotions.
Turning my back on her, I close my eyes, focusing on breathing. I just can’t control myself at the moment.
“Rya.”
“Yes, Luna.” I stop walking with my back to her, hands squeezing the material of my bag, waiting for what she has to say.
“I just needed to say good job. Dr. Valentine said that you’re a natural, that you have been moon-blessed with your gift.” Dallas is just trying to smooth all the females’ fur down, placing his trust in me.
“Thank you, Luna.” I can’t turn around to meet her eyes. My voice is so shaky, it cracks with emotion.
“Rya, if you ever need to talk-”
“No, I’m fine, Luna Catherine. Sometimes I just have a moment, but I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.”
“Cathy, are you ready to go?” Kennedy asks. I say no more, walking in the opposite direction from where they are going.
“Rya, barbecue on Sunday. I expect you there,” she commands. I don’t acknowledge the invitation. Instead, I just keep walking without turning back.
Making my way back to the cottage is a half hour walk, but the breeze feels good in the heat of the day. I left my windows and door open to try and rid the house of the old wolf’s scent that still lingers in some corners.
She died over a month ago. It feels weird to occupy something that belonged to another for so long.
She planted a garden in the spring that’s been overrun with weeds. My goal is to return it to the way she intended it to be,
a harvest of nature.
The soil is rich and black; it clings underneath my nails. Pulling weeds is no joke. It’s tedious, and my back hurts from
being bent over for so long.
Slowly, this garden is taking shape. Already there is an abundant yield. I can give away so much, canning the rest. I’m excited about this prospect.
All the work this represents will keep my mind busy so it doesn’t float to things that can’t be changed.
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