Page 37 of The Alpha: Part Three
Seth
I haven't had a full-on panic attack for weeks. Weeks. I keep waiting for it to happen, but it hasn't. There have been a few times where I started feeling that tightness, but Desir'ee or one of the twins was right there each time to help me through it and it didn't last longer than a few minutes. I don't want to keep waiting for it to happen, but I'm not stupid enough to think that it won't ever happen again. Dr. Cortez says that there may always be the possibility of an attack happening, but that having a good pack who loves me will help more than anything at this point.
She's right. I know she's right. She's been right about everything else. But I can't stop myself from worrying about having an attack when I'm taking care of the baby. I don't want our children to see me broken like that. They need to see me whole and strong. They need to know that I'll always take care of them. How can they know that if they see how broken I am?
My pack knows something is bothering me, too. They're all very intuitive, but they're kind enough to give me time to come to them about my worries on my own. I'm dreading it. I know what their reactions will be. They don't see me the way I see myself. They have no idea how dark it gets in my head sometimes, and I don't want them to. They shouldn't have to carry that weight, and I refuse to let it touch our children.
On top of all this worry and dread, I've been avoiding my mother. For a long time after I left the facility and went home to Talia's pack, it was almost like we avoided each other. Kind of like if we didn't talk to or see each other, then we wouldn't have to think about my father or how our lives were because of him. She tried once, last year, to tell me that it was her fault because she should have been strong enough to stop him from dragging me into everything. I stopped her after one sentence. She couldn't have stopped him. My mother is a lot of things, but strong isn't one of them. I don't fault her for it. She's not that kind of omega. All my father would have had to do is give her a command to not worry about it and she wouldn't have. I'm not angry with my mother for not stopping him. I'm angry with her about other things. Like not trying to help the omegas, or at least dumping money into the effort to help and find them.
But she's stopped avoiding me, and she doesn't seem very inclined to allow me to avoid her. Based on all the calls, texts, and even emails, she seems downright determined to be very present. The best thing about an awkward parent, no matter how determined they are, is that she texts before she calls. Which is what I just received. I've brushed off the last ten calls, but this text is different.
Seth Pratchett, you will answer my call. I need to talk to you about something important. I know where you are and I will fly there tonight if you don't answer the phone. I'm still your mother.
So I answer the call when it comes because she is, in fact, still my mother.
“Hello, Mom.”
“Don't you hello Mom me. I've been desperately trying to reach you. What if I had been on death's doorstep and calling you with my last words?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, sighing at her dramatics. “You're not dying, Mom. What's wrong?”
“I could have been and you never would have known because you never take my calls. Never mind that. I know you're coming back home, not that you told me yourself. I wanted to talk to you about this before everything got put into place, but again, you don't take my calls, so now your opinion on the matter is irrelevant.”
“What matter?” I interrupt. “What are you talking about?”
“The house, Seth. I gave it up. Well, not exactly. But it isn't our house anymore, and you won't have it to come home to when you come back.”
When she doesn't elaborate, I flip up my patch to press the heel of my hand against my eye and take a deep breath to keep my impatience from shooting out of my mouth. “You gave up the house?”
“No, not exactly. I've been working with Elizabet. We're transforming it into a place of goodness. A place of healing.”
I take another breath, blowing it out slowly. “What do you mean? What are you working on with Elizabet? Where will you live?”
“Oh, Seth. I haven't been at the house for a long time. Since we lost your father. I couldn't stand to be there. It's been gutted now. All new everything. It's wonderful. I can't wait for you to see it. We've worked so hard.”
Are all mothers like this? They must be. It can't just be mine. “Mom. Please. I don't know what you mean. You and Elizabet gutted the house?”
“Yes,” she chirps, happiness and pride radiating through the phone. “It's been transformed. It will be finished soon. Just in time for Talia's Nathan to get them out.”
“Mom!” I bark, much sharper than I intend, but I don't know what she's talking about and it very much seems like I need to. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that, but I don't understand. Please explain it to me, from the beginning.”
“I'm sorry, honey. I'm just so darn excited. I decided to get rid of the house since neither of us wanted anything to do with it. I was just going to sell it, but then I had a wonderful idea. What if it could be a place of healing? You know, for all those omegas that are missing. Some of them have been held for so long, they might not be able to just go back to things like nothing ever happened. And since Elizabet has such a fabulous program for omegas already, I thought if the rescued omegas needed a place to be for a little while until they're ready to go back home, why couldn't they come to our house? Let something good happen there for once, you know? Elizabet loved the idea and we just did it, Seth. We just did it. Now all those omegas will have a place to go when Nathan saves them. We can turn something your father built into something good. Isn't that wonderful?”
I have to swallow around the knot in my throat twice before I can answer her. “Yeah, Mom. It really is wonderful. It's so wonderful. Thank you.”
“You don't need to thank me, honey. We're just doing something right. Are you alright? You've been over there an awful long time.”
I swallow again. “I'm going to have a baby.”
She doesn't say anything for too long and that panic starts climbing up my chest to wrap around my neck. Then she squeals into the phone and it dissipates as quickly as it formed.
“I'm going to be a grandma! Seth! When? I didn't even know you had a new pack! Can I come out to meet them? Can I come tomorrow? Oh, Seth!”
The knot in my throat I've been fighting turns into real tears as I realize all at once that I needed this version of my mother my whole life. “Desir'ee is due at the end of spring. Corso redid the house at the back of his property for us. We'll be back east before she has the baby. I think it would be okay for you to fly out, but let me check with my pack.”
“Desir'ee? That's so beautiful. What about the rest of your pack? Wait, no! Don't tell me. Let them be a surprise. My goodness, I'm so happy.”
My pack is as excited to meet my mother as she is to meet them, and she books the flight for her and John while I'm still on the phone when I call her back. I wasn't sure how John was going to take it. Some packs are family units, like what my pack will be. All the male alphas are father figures to any children born, or at minimum an uncle type relation. Some packs, like the one I grew up in, are not. They all live together and are a pack together, but the inner-relationships are purely functional. So, while my kids will have three father figures to call Dad, or Papa, or whatever we'll be called, I grew up with a Dad and a John.
