Page 17 of The Alpha Dire Wolf
I almost contemplated a new shower, to wash away the ick of dealing with my ex and my boss, but a giant yawn put a stopper in that plan. The shower had won, but coffee was coming in a hard second place now, demanding to be recognized. It was time for caffeine if I wanted to not hate the day any more than I already did.
Rifling through the bag I had hastily thrown together before leaving, I got dressed in a wild combination of a purple tank top and black capris leggings. I was the essence of style this morning. Topping it off, a high ponytail to keep my neck as cool as possible. I was still feeling rather warm from the bad sleep.
My stomach rumbled loudly. I was also starving.
Knock. Knock.
“Reeaallly?” I didn’t want to deal with anyone. I really,reallydidn’t want to deal with anyone. The funeral and then the wake had left my social battery on empty, and a night of terrible sleep hadn’t recharged it one bit. The last thing I could handle now was yet more condolences.
My grandmother would be disappointed if I didn’t extend manners to those who were just trying to help, however, and as I was staying in her house, I got my butt down to the door to answer it. Besides, it could be important. I knew from intimate experience there was a lot more than just a funeral to plan when it came to dealing with someone’s death.
I opened the door to the face of a blonde woman, a handful and a half inches shorter than me. She was smiling, the look stretching her feminine features in a forced manner. In one thin-fingered hand she clutched a plain brown bag emblazoned with the logo of the local coffee shop and diner. In the other was one of those ugly gray trays holding a trio of drinks.
“I don’t know what you like to eat or drink these days,” the woman said, as if she expected me to know her. “That’s why I got a little bit of everything.”
“Ummm.” Not only was I rocking the fashion style, but apparently I had the wit of legend as well that morning.
The blonde laughed, but it was forced and more than a little awkward, the expression backed up by a reddening of her pale cheeks. “I know it’s been what, fifteen, sixteen years, but I thought maybe, after yesterday, you could use a friendly face. You looked pretty overwhelmed at the funeral, so I didn’t want to add to it then. I just thought, maybe today I could help.”
I leaned forward, my eyes narrowing as my brain started to work again. Something seemed familiar about the round face, and the blue-green seawater eyes. Something I couldn’t quite—
My jaw dropped open, my eyes likely just as wide. “Charlene?”
My childhood best friend until I had moved away nodded eagerly. “Hi, Sylvie.”
“Holy crap!” I exclaimed. “I haven’t seen you since we were what, nine, ten? I thought you had moved out of town too!”
“I did,” Charlene “Char-Char” Minten replied, beaming naturally now. “But not for long. I’ve been back since I finished high school, actually.”
Shaking my head, I stepped out of the doorway to let her in. “I never knew. I just assumed you were off living life.”
“In a way, I am,” she said with a laugh. “I took over my grandfather’s bookshop when my father didn’t want it.”
“That’s amazing. Oh my god,” I said as the smell of coffee finally wafted into my nose. “That smells so amazing. You are a godsend.”
“I know,” Charlene said, laughing as she showed herself into the kitchen, still remembering her way around my grandmother’s house all these years later.
We embraced once her hands were free, rocking happily from side to side.
“Damn,” she said, stepping back and looking me up and down. “You gottall, shrimp.”
I laughed at the familiar nickname. For years I had always been the shorter one, never quite catching up. “No, I just kept growing. You hit the emergency stop button, apparently.”
More laughter followed as we got ourselves settled around the table. A warm glow settled over me that I couldn’t chalk up entirely to caffeine. Char-Char had been right. I did need a friendly face this morning. One thatwasn’tthere because of my grandmother but because of me. We easily fell back into ourselves, like no time had passed at all.
Charlene was such a bubble of happy energy it was impossible to dislike her. I had missed it. Missed her.
Never would have been a problem if we’d just stayed in town.
“So what are you doing here?” I asked, wanting more detail and not wanting to get lost in my own morose thoughts.
“Mostly as I said. I thought a friendly face could be helpful.” She shrugged. “My mother and I, and my grandmother before she passed a few years back, were all quite close with your grandmother.”
“You were?” That was news.
“She sat on the senior council of the OLS with my mother and grandmother before her,” Charlene said.
“The OLS? Senior council?”
