How to Flirt With a Naked Werewolf - Molly Harper [104]
Eli handed me a slip of paper with his cell-phone number on it and told me to call if I ever needed help from him or the pack. He moved back toward the door, leaving me there, absently rubbing a hand over my aching breastbone.
AS I DROVE home, the odd conflict between Eli’s and Gracie’s advice played out in my head. Gracie knew Cooper better, but Eli saw the problem from a male point of view. Wouldn’t another man be able to see the signs of a wolf gone for good? Maybe Cooper could come back to Grundy if he knew I was gone. Maybe by staying I was keeping Cooper from the only home he’d really known. But what if Gracie was right? What if Cooper finally came home and found that I’d left, that another person who was supposed to love him had abandoned him?
More confused than when I’d set off that morning, I saw my cell phone flashing, indicating a voice mail. “Hi, sweetheart, it’s your mother. We haven’t talked in a while, and your father and I would like to see how you’re doing. If you have time, could you call us?”
I arched my eyebrow. That sounded almost . . . normal. It was neither passive nor aggressive. The sort of message that Kara’s mother left her on a regular basis. And the paranoid part of my brain wondered if it was a trick, if the past few months of peace were a trap. When I needed help or advice, my instinctual reaction was to turn away from my parents, to head off the inevitable lecture on personal responsibility, global awareness, or vital importance of ear-candling. Now some combination of morbid curiosity and desperation had me dialing my parents’ number. It actually rang a few times, and I found myself worried that I’d missed them. That was a new sensation.
“Spirit Wind Bed-and-Breakfast. How can I help you?”
I pulled the phone from my ear and checked the display to make sure I’d dialed home. “I’m sorry, I must have the wrong number.”
“Mo?” I heard my mom’s familiar squeal.
“Mom?”
“Baby!” she cried. “Oh, my baby, how are you? I’m so glad you called. Ash, she’s on the phone!”
I heard the clatter of the extension as my father did his usual juggling of the phone before actually putting it to his ear.
“Oh, honey, we miss you,” Ash said. “How are you doing?”
“I—what was with that bed-and-breakfast thing?”
“Oh, honey, you’ll never believe it,” Mom said. “We’ve turned the commune into a spiritual retreat. It was your father’s idea. We’ve been booked solid for two months.”
“People sleep there? And they pay you?”
“Well, not necessarily. We accept in-kind payments or ‘sweat equity’ on the farm, but sometimes, yeah, we take cash.”
Dad interjected, “We’re the only totally organic, vegan ecotourism destination in southwestern Mississippi.”
“But—but where did this come from? You’ve never even talked about wanting to run an ecotourism project before. And you hate it when outsiders come tromping around in your garden.”
Dad chuckled. ”Well, when you left, I thought about my little girl being out in the world, in a strange place, and I wondered how much of what we’ve taught you was going to stay with you as you traveled down that road. And how many people out there don’t have the benefit of growing up the way you did, being taught the values that we gave you.”
I tried to contain the snort, I really did. Dad did a masterful job of ignoring it, continuing, “I realized that as much as we love our little community, it would benefit so many more if we opened it up to travelers, people who need to have their eyes opened up to what’s really happening in their minds, their bodies. It didn’t take much time to convert the place. A little paint, a little elbow grease. We had a couple of cabins that were empty anyway. We all work. Sven prepares all the meals and teaches cooking classes. Sundrop teaches yoga. Your mother leads meditation seminars and nature walks. We’ve had great reviews in a couple of the trade magazines, and now we’re practically turning guests away.”
“Oh, we would never turn anyone away,” Mom corrected him. “When we have overflow,