Page 56 of Bred By the Wolfman

“Yeah, okay, I see what you mean by not kid friendly,” she says, speaking around her chicken. “This is fucking delicious, though.”

I swell with pride, knowing I could present her with a salad in a way she actually enjoys.

“Will you eat this instead of cereal?” I ask.

“Any day you want.”

But she looks even more thoughtful now, her brows drawn together tight, as she finishes her meal. I wonder where she’s gone in her mind, because so far, I thought things were going well.

“Do you want to see?” I ask her as she drinks the last drop of her tea, then sighs and pats her belly.

“See what?” Dee asks.

“The nursery.”

Her eyes grow round, and then a look crosses her face I can’t quite read. Did I make a mistake by asking?

“Sure,” she says suddenly, standing. “Show me.”

I get to my feet and lead her up the stairs, to the second floor. Here there’s a railing that overlooks the big open floor plan downstairs.

“Don’t worry,” I say when she peers over the side. “I got a special fence to put across it, so she can’t slip through.”

I hear Dee exhale, and smile to myself as I lead her down the hall, away from my bedroom.

I bought a place with four rooms, I’m still not sure why. One is my home office, which I use rarely. One is the nursery, and one is a guest room that also never gets any traffic.

Then there’s the master bedroom that maybe someday, I’ll get to show her, too.

Take it slow, at her speed, I tell myself.

I open the first door on the left, and step aside to let Dee through. But the moment she’s inside, she gasps and freezes in the doorway.

I started decorating the nursery before DreamTogether had even accepted me, just out of hope. Once I was on the books, though, I went wild picking out everything I wanted for it. The wallpaper is a cream-yellow with playful, swirling designs, perfect for baby eyes searching out new shapes. I hung a mobile over the crib, which I painted white myself with yellow accents. The changing table matches, and baskets of stuffed animals hang from the ceiling in the corners. There’s a reading nook with gossamer curtains, where I imagined myself sitting with my cub in my lap, teaching them how to sound out words in a picture book.

Suddenly, I hear Dee crying, and my head jerks towards her in alarm. I can’t see her face from where I’m standing behind her.

“Dee?” I ask, running a hand down her back. “Are you?—”

“It’s so cute,” she whimpers, wiping her face. “Do you have any idea how... how sweet and wonderful this is? And you’re all prepared to do it by yourself.”

“That was the plan,” I say hesitantly. Before you, I want to add.

She just nods, still crying. “Fucking hormones,” she grumbles, wiping more tears away.

“We can leave, if you want.” I walk back out into the hall, but Dee shakes her head. She turns around to face me and her eyes are red, her cheeks stained with tracks of pink. All I want to do is hold her until those tears stop.

“Look,” she says, rather brusquely. “I’m not going to promise you I’m going to be anyone’s mom. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

I can completely understand this. It’s not what she signed up to do.

“I don’t expect you to promise anything,” I say.

“Shush.” She waves a hand at me, still wiping snot from her nose. “But I should say that I find you... insanely, wonderfully, blissfully hot. Like every smoke alarm in this house is going off.”

I tilt my head, because I don’t hear anything, but then realize she’s making a joke.

She still likes me.

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