Page 2 of The (Maybe) Murderer Who Knocked Me Up

Our alpha mom kisses her cheek. “But I love your tramp stamp.”

Laughter roars around the table.

Grandpop clinks his glass. “I’d like to expand upon that. Choose a mate who will love your tramp stamps as much as he loves the best parts of you.”

“How do you know my tramp stamp isn’t the best part of me?” Our omega mom teases.

“Because I have seen it,” Grandpop says, deadpan.

We laugh again.

Aunt Emerald stands. Like Mom, she has an impressive collection of jewelry and long, glorious hair. But she doesn’t have a mate. Her bond never took. “Here’s my advice. If you choose the wrong guy, and it doesn’t work out, don’t worry so much. Your life isn’t over. You’ll still have us to tease you about your bad tattoos and give you the name of a good tattoo artist who can cover them up.”

Our omega mom smiles at her with a deep fondness that gives me hope. If she and Aunt Emerald are still close, maybe I can stay close with my brothers too.

“Hear, hear,” Mom says, raising her mug. “Although, I have to say, there are worse things in life than having a tattoo you don’t like. It’s okay to make mistakes, boys. There’s no way you won’t. Don’t be so afraid to mess up that you hold yourself back from going after what you want. It’s better to get a tattoo you’ll regret than to leave your skin bare forever.”

We all raise our water glasses or coffee mugs.

“To peer pressure from your mother to get a tattoo!” Link says.

Grandpop is in the middle of drinking to the toast and spits out his coffee. Which causes Aunt Emerald to spit out her coffee. I laugh until I cry, leaning against Silver as the tears stream down my cheeks.

It’s one of those moments I wish I could capture in a bottle and keep forever. All my brothers have plans to leave in the fall. Silver and Link are going to college. Tin’s moving to a farm out in the middle of nowhere to work with horses. Even Coin is going off to trade school to learn how to be an airplane mechanic.

In just a couple months, I’ll be sleeping in our hammock all by myself.

Grandpop clears his throat, and all the giggling mellows out. “I got one more thing to say. Nobody at this house cares what secondary gender you fall in love with or if you have more than one mate. My cousin Phoebe put her paws on two women at the same time, and it was fine. They’re all very happy together. I don’t want any of my grandkids thinkin’ that I’m close-minded, just because I’m old.”

Aunt Emerald and Mom roll their eyes because he’s said this many, many times before. He’s been saying it for as long as I can remember. I know they find it a little annoying, but I like hearing it over and over again. It’s nice.

I don’t think a lot of people have grandparents like him.

“Thanks, Grandpop,” I say.

He smiles at me. “You’re very welcome.”

“You boys better eat quickly. The bus will be here soon,” Mom tells us.

I stick a fork in one of the pancakes and bring it to my plate. Link has already finished wolfing down a second pancake and is on to his third. Tin is cutting through two pancakes at a time, Coin is reaching across the table for a second helping, and Silver is politely chewing his last bite.

I’m the only one who hasn’t taken any food yet. I’m always behind.

Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever catch up.

2

SEQUIN

Ten minutes later, Silver brings my backpack to the table. “We should head out. The bus will be here soon.”

Grandpop and Aunt Emerald are still there, chatting with Mom about when our other family members are scheduled to arrive. I wave to them as I put on my backpack and follow Silver into the living room. It’s my favorite room in our house. Every square inch of wall space is covered in gold and silver picture frames. There are school photos of all five of us for every year, dozens of vacation pictures, and snapshots of us as little raccoon kits.

At the center of the room is the biggest chandelier in the house. Real crystals hang from a wide golden base, leaving the whole room twinkling with light. When I was a kid, I used to lie on the floor and stare at the way the light reflected off the gold and silver picture frames for hours. There’s nothing better than getting lost in the happy haze all raccoon shifters get when we find something shiny.

Silver opens the front door, and we step out into the bright morning.

“It’s already hotter than hell out here,” Link complains. He, Coin, and Tin are waiting for us out by the bushes that Mom’s been trying to keep alive for three years. They still look a little shriveled, despite her efforts. On the other side of the bush is an old car raised up on cinder blocks.

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