Page 82 of Prayers for the Prickly

Not that I could blame him for not being himself after all the bullshit he’d had to deal with since Everett left and his mother’s gambling debts had been exposed, revealing the real reason she’d wanted Olly to keep on living there. He’d been paying all the god damned bills; a fact he’d kept from me and everyone else in the family. Mom and Pops had been pissed when they’d found out. I could only imagine the words Pops had with Dana when he stormed over there.

The skid marks he’d left in front of the house still lingered, weeks later, an impressive testament to his rage that day.

I’d been there, when Olly had attempted to apologize to her for accusing her of being part of Antgate, and she’d turned her back on him and walked out of the grocery store, leaving him standing there holding the cart, his face redder than I’d ever seen it as everyone stared.

The whole thing still pissed me off when I thought about it. I was just glad I hadn’t been face-to-face with this cousin Iris yet or I’d have been tempted to snarl and cut her a scathing look that might have been misinterpreted as predatory.

Eating family members, or any other shifter for that matter, was a huge no-no, but there was nothing in the rulebook about putting the fear of the goddess in someone, especially when their bullshit had hurt innocent people.

Okay, no more thinking about that.

Better get the wood inside and cut, then touch base with Olly in case the conversation went long. I needed those slices if I was going to get any work done this evening. Dropping into my shop was different when I didn’t intend to be here for a while. Only one window needed to be opened, and the quick cuts I needed only took twenty minutes, once I found my rhythm.

Big ones, small ones, warped and round, an assortment of driftwood slices filled the box that had previously held the twisted branches I’d harvested. I couldn’t wait to begin sketching the cartoons onto the wood disks. Some looked just the right size to be holiday ornaments. Halloween would be here before we knew it. It would be fun to create some creepy cute characters and home decor for my favorite holiday.

Come next year, we’d need costumes for the whelplets. Man, I hoped someone in one of our families had a plan for trick or treating with that many toddlers ‘cause holy shit, we might need one of those big wagons or something. Wait, that’s exactly what we’d need, and I was perfectly capable of making one.

Whipping my notebook from my pocket, I jotted a quick note and put a star next to it, so I’d remember to copy it into my planner. How cool would that be, to pull them around town in their very own driftwood wagon, handmade by Papa and big enough that they’d all fit until they were old enough to run up and down blocks ringing doorbells without tiring easily.

I took the box back to the SUV before I headed to the showroom, worried I’d forget it if I had to hurry out after we talked. Olly was behind the counter, arranging invoices and receipts in their proper files, thunderstorm noises coming from the smart speaker cluing me in to the mood he was in.

“Chew on anyone’s gizzard today?” I asked in lieu of a proper greeting.

“He’s lucky I didn’t bite his head off.”

“There doesn’t look to be any harm done,” I said as I examined the lamp whose bulb he’d replaced. “Not a scratch or a nick on it.”

“He got lucky.”

“He made a mistake. We all make them.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not feeling very forgiving right now.”

“Why, is it because you can’t get the two people you need it most from to forgive you?” I asked, point blank, direct and to the point, always the best way between wolverines.

When he sighed and his shoulders slumped, I knew I’d hit the nail on the head.

“Give it time, Olly, and work on easing up on yourself a little. You might have been wrong in accusing your mom of being involved in Antgate, but you weren’t wrong about the things you said about how she treated you. After what Dash revealed, about her gambling debts and her trying to mortgage the trailer using you as the cosigner, she’s the one who still owes you an apology.”

“Which I doubt I’ll ever get,” Olly snapped. “Not when she thinks it’s my duty to take care of her the way an alpha son would have done if she’d had one of them instead of an omega.”

“No son, no child of any sort should be made to feel like they have to take care of a parent, especially one who never tried to take care of them unless it was of benefit to them.”

Groaning, Olly ran a hand through his hair until it was sticking up everywhere. “I know, okay! I know.”

“Then act like it and stop worrying about her feelings and approval, you are not responsible for how she chooses to behave around you. That’s all on her, so stop dwelling on it and stop going after people who aren’t responsible for the issues you’re facing. It’s not a good look. We want our Olly back. This family needs at least one member the community can look at as approachable while the rest of us walk around with our resting bitch faces on.”

“Yours hasn’t been as bitchy lately.”

“Good to know, I’ve been working on smiling a little more, since my kid brother hasn’t been able to manage it.”

“I know,” Olly groaned, sighing again. “I just haven’t been able to force myself to do it.”

“It…”

“Do not say it’ll get easier!”

“You know me better than that,” I growled, cutting him a look so he’d remember who he was talking to. “What I was going to say was that it’s a little overrated. Takes too much thought and too many damned muscles to make my lips curve up that way.”

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