Page 8 of Wild Cub

“Trust me, the man this morning was infuriating. Stupid Viking country looking motorcycle god,” I mumble under my breath.

“So, thereisa man and he’s getting to you. Can we help him? Does he need a road map?” Reva scooches over to me, bumping my shoulders.

“No, and I don’t want to talk about him,” I grumble as I get up to throw my trash away. Something in the corner of my eyes catches my attention, but I brush it off as stress-induced paranoia.

“Can we get back to the office now? Some of us need to work.” I gather my things and head out. All I wanted to do was bury my nose in work. As we walk, a shiver trails down my spine. My dad used to tell me that whenever that happens, it was a bad thought trying to exit the body. I am so screwed.

Chapter 4

Therestoftheday is uneventful. The virtual meetings give me no progress. Our limited resources are still causing delays. The hotline is at least steady and not overwhelming. All I want to do is cook dinner, snuggle with my dog, and read a good book, if I don’t pass out before I can.

I pull into my makeshift driveway and see the lights on in the living room. In the bay window is Seamus, pawing at the window in excitement. Something in the pit of my stomach, though, is screaming at me. Something’s not right. The glimpse of someone from this afternoon, the shiver down my spine, this eerie feeling; something bad is about to happen. This is when I regret not having an alarm system. My anxiety is riding high at this time.

I grab my softball bat from the back of my car and creep slowly to the back to unlock the door. Fuck, it’s already unlocked. Someone’s in my house and I only have a bat as my weapon of choice.

I slowly let the door swing open. Lizzo’s newest single is blasting from my kitchen; there’s only one person who would blast Lizzo in my house. I relax my shoulders in relief.

“If you don’t turn down that fucking music, I’m going to beat you into tomorrow morning,” I scream over the music, watching my cousin make herself at home, opening a merlot. Last time I checked, I don’t own merlots, so she must have brought them with her. She turns to grab a glass, only to jump when she sees me.

“Jesus, lord in heaven. You can’t sneak on people like that!” her southern twang rings out. “Tessie, put the bat down, you’ll scare the neighbors”

“It did scare the neighbors. It scared you, you’re the neighbors. I gave you the key for emergencies and to let Seamus out during the day. You have your own home, right next door!” I toss the bat on the couch and plop down. I scratched Seamus’ ears as Britt turns down the music.

“Figured you might want this.” Britt hands me a glass of red. I’m not a fan of dry reds, but after an unproductive day, I’m desperate. Seamus plops on my lap nuzzling his nose between my legs, already starting to fall asleep.

“Sam or Reva already called you. Y’all are big yentas, I swear,” I say as I take a sip of wine.

“Cuz, we’re southern. We ain’t Jewish. Change your references. But yes, they told me. Viking country God or something like that.” waving her hands about.

I throw my head against the back of the couch with a groan. “Shut up. He’s like Voldemort. Don’t give power to the name.”

“Tell me everything.” She cozies up to me on the couch, her own glass full of merlot.

“Nope. Suffer. If I don’t talk about him..” I begin.

“He ain’t in your mind. Damn broken record. I swear, sometimes I feel you’ve been touched too many times by God almighty,” she groans, practically downing her glass already. Before I can retort, she makes her way to the kitchen.

“Woman, while you’re in there, make me a quesadilla,” I call. I know exactly what reaction I’m going to get, but I thrive off the chaos.

She’s screeching now. “WOMAN. Last time I checked, God gave you two legs and a capable body, you can make your damn food.” I laugh at her, knowing that she’ll cook anyways..

Brittany is my only family here. She escaped from Alabama a few years before I came to North Carolina and was instrumental in helping me find this house. Thank God, because I don’t know what I would have done without her.

“You wanna tell me why you brought in the baseball bat?” she asks from the kitchen. She’s already rummaging through my kitchen to make dinner. She may throw an attitude, but we both know she’s a much better cook than I am.

I sigh; there’s no getting around this conversation. “I just felt paranoid. Just a weird morning, an awful board meeting, and I got the shivers in the afternoon. Today’s felt like someone took my voodoo doll and poked me with all their needles.”

“So, it has nothing to do with someone making you flustered?” I can hear the sizzling of the skillet with what smells like butter. My stomach is growling at me, the hunger pains setting in now.

“Me? Flustered? Never.” I start to brush off her interrogation.

“You wanna drop the act? Seth already told me what you did at Allie’s birthday party,” she says pointedly, setting out our plates for dinner.

“Jesus, do you all have anything better to talk about than my life?” I mutter.

“Look, I ain’t going to press you on it. If I know what I know and feel, then you best keep your nose down.” She walks and hands me a plate.

I give up arguing with her and tuck the plate close. It was food and I wouldn’t dare bite the hand that gave it to me.

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