“Told ya he’ll warm up to you.”
“Please, let me carry him. Please….” Morgan begs.
After taking Quinton out, I detach the carrier and help Morgan fit the harness on herself. It takes her some time, but she eventually gets it right. I make sure everything is secure and then pass Quinton over to her. She’s rocking it with him, but I know having her own isn’t on her to-do list right now.
“Where’s Jack?” she asks as we walk toward the wolf’s area.
“He’s somewhere,” I reply, scanning the surroundings but unable to locate him. “He’s more like a bodyguard than a boyfriend these days.”
“Well, he’s both. But I understand what you mean. So, this outing isn’t just about getting away from the house?”
“He’s grumpy.”
“Hmm… guys have PMS, too. Haven’t you noticed?” she chuckles.
I scoff at the notion. “Willem never had PMS. Or maybe he had it every day, so I didn’t know any different. Anyway, I don’t think that’s what Jack is having.”
“A man, just like any male adult mammal, can experience withdrawal symptoms if his testosterone levels drop.”
I laugh at the seriousness in her tone. “I’m sure my man’s testosterone is on an optimal level.”
Morgan’s mouth twists to the side as if implying that I lack understanding of biology. “Every hormone has its up and down, whether it’s in Batman’s body or our men’s bodies. Especially sex hormones.”
“That’s interesting,” I ponder, associating the phenomenon with something else. Could Jack’s nightmares get more violent because of a hormonal change? I doubt it.
“Ty has it. Just so you know, his testosterone is fine, but sometimes he gets moody for no reason. His PMS, or IMS—Irritable Male Syndrome—as it’s known in men, syncs up with mine. Conveniently. When this happens, I can never find the right words to talk to him in a way that he doesn’t misinterpret them. But we handle it.”
“I think Jack is overwhelmed with my situation and his own,” I explain. “Mine—well, Willem. And his—he can’t seem to accept that I genuinely want to live with him in Hawaii. I don’t want him to choose between his career and me.”
Amid the interaction of the wolves, Quinton adds to the commotion with his excited calls, waving his arms up and down and bouncing in the carrier. “Emmo!”
“Everything is Elmo to him,” Morgan giggles. “How wonderful. If there’s a tech that can take you back to your childhood happiness, just for a moment, I’m all for it.”
“Where would you go back to?”
She ponders. “Maybe when my parents decided I could adopt a puppy. Remember, you and I went together to the shelter and picked Shadow? That border collie cross?”
“Ah… Shadow. Yes. That hyperactive dog! But he was so much fun. I’d go back to that moment, too. Maybe I’ll tell Willem about the idea.”
“He would probably invent something that would trap you in your most terrifying childhood nightmare, like being carried by a clown.” She trembles in disgust.
“Oh, one of your birthdays. When your parents organized a bouncy castle, magicians, and all that?”
“Yeah, scary stuff!” she sneers. “How about your scary moment?”
“Um… the first time I was taken to the hospital. My mother said I had a really bad fever. The room smelled like an over-cleaned toilet—well, that was what I thought then, anyway. The doctor was tall. His medical coat almost blended into the white wall, making his head look like it was floating. The needle in his hand looked massive. I remember bawling in fear.”
“When was that? You never told me.”
“Before we met. When I was five. But the doctor saved my life. It was meningitis, and I recovered fully because of the early intervention.”
“Scary, Ave. You and your hyperthymesia.”
“I do not have hyperthymesia.”
“You should get a test, seriously. And I bet your results would be positive. You told me you remember your second birthday! How many people do that?”
“It was the pony. My dad put me on a white one, holding me steady like I was riding a unicorn. It was magic.”