The Baby Shift- New Jersey Page 2

  Her mother informed them that she had a hair appointment for the weekend, then smiled slyly.

  Raul

  The firecracker was growing more fascinating as the weeks went on. More and more, Claire emerged from her small office upstairs to stop clacking away on her computer, which he found was a troublesome device that he didn’t much understand. He often found her hovering over Angelle’s crib with a smile.

  Today, he was clearing out the fireplace and the hearth. Claire made faces at Angelle, and in return, she giggled from her crib.

  “You can hold her, you know,” he said. She scooped her up almost immediately.

  “Her eyes are so attentive,” she muttered in awe. “I usually work with kids around elementary age, never with newborns.”

  He smirked. “You’re a natural.” He swept up the last of the ashes from the fireplace and deposited them into the trashcan he had nearby.

  Claire frowned as she cradled Angelle gently in her arms. “Raul.” She sucked in a quick breath. “Can I ask you something?”

  “As long as you don’t revert back to Angry Claire,” he fired back. She pouted half-heartedly.

  “Angelle’s mother—” She cut herself off. “It’s none of my business, I know. I was just curious.”

  He sighed, his breath stirring up a tiny cloud of black ash up from the bricks, and stood. “Angelle’s mother left me.”

  Claire’s eyes widened as she clung to Angelle tighter, who was happily nuzzling into Claire’s soft sweater. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” he said. It wasn’t. But, it wasn’t Claire’s fault. “It’s rare to happen in the Clan.” He dusted off his hands and looked over to her. “Don’t pity me, ok? I’m fine.”

  She said nothing as he dragged the trash can outside the room. He didn’t have the heart to go back inside the living room. His eyes landed on the kitchen sink. The leaky pipe. He deposited the trash can outside and washed his hands, working the soap onto his tired skin.

  “I’m going to shut off the water for a bit,” he yelled out.

  “Okay,” she called from the other room, but it was softer. More subdued than her usual firecracker self. He could hear Angelle kicking up a tiny fuss, but his hearing caught Claire soothing her as if she was the girl’s own mother.

  “Let your father work.” He heard her comforting whisper. For a split second, he imagined Claire, determined and thoughtful, as Angelle’s mother. He shook his head. No. It was best to bury that thought as soon as it crossed his mind. Like he’d buried any thought of Cassandra when she ran off. The Chief had even warned him of their mating. It was supposed to be for life, but he was stubborn., even when he knew that Cassandra was willful.

  But Claire was a different type of willful. He got out a wrench and approached the old pipes beneath the sink, fighting with them. He liked the fire in her eyes. From his vantage point, he could still hear her coaxing and coddling Angelle to sleep. The baby was soon sleeping, her calm breathing a wonderful sound to hear. He loved listening to Angelle sleep.

  In the afternoon, after fixing the pipe and finding nothing to do, they all sat down for an afternoon snack. He cradled Angelle as Claire got out some cookies and more lemonade. He’d never had this lemonade drink before, but he liked it now. Or he liked it when Claire made it.

  “Thanks for the sink,” Claire said. “Dad’s never been happier. But, you’re going to run out of your list soon though, aren’t you?” She picked at a cookie, breaking it into three parts. He liked watching her eat in small bits.

  “I have two big projects left after only a month,” he said with a confident grin. “Looks like I’ll be the cleaning guy for the ten months or so.”

  “Dad will find something for you.” She glanced at Angelle, who was happily staring up at him with big brown eyes. “She’s such a good baby.”

  His smile didn’t falter. “I got lucky with her. The Clan caretakers are always complimenting her.”

  Claire put a piece of cookie in her mouth. “What’s living in a Shifter Clan like?” She chewed the cookie slowly. If he concentrated, he could smell the wafting vanilla scent of her hair.

  “Interesting, but I’ve never known anything else.” He paused and tilted his head to the side. “You cut your hair.”

  “Two weeks ago,” she said with a sneaky smile. “It was overdue for a cut.” The length now sat above her shoulder blades, but the waves of her hair hung loosely. She looked like she’d been plucked from a Romance-era painting. He leaned his face against his hand, still using the other arm to cradle Angelle, who was quickly falling asleep.

  “It looks nice.”

  He could smell the rush of blood to her cheeks and bit back a wicked grin.

  This was fun. Too fun.

  “Thank you,” she said and then brushed off her hands. “I’ve got to get to a night class.”

  “Do you want a ride?” he asked. “Angelle and I would be happy to chauffeur you.”

  The corner of her lips quirked upwards. “Yeah. That would be nice.”

  He hadn’t realized he’d been working his way up the trust map with Claire, but somehow, it felt nice. Refreshing. He inhaled the vanilla.

  “I’m ready whenever you are.”

  He wondered if he meant to offer her more than a car ride.

  Claire

  Claire wasn’t sure when she began to notice the faint freckles on Raul’s face. They were a constellation of stars that she was immensely curious about. When her mind wandered from her thesis, shining bright on her computer screen, she thought of his freckles shifting when he smiled. They were thirty in all. She’d been careful to count them.

  On the weekend, she tried to sit in her office and stab away at her work. It felt a mountain that she might never traverse. Worse, her mind kept going back to Raul. He was funny, much funnier than she expected. His height always astounded her as he skillfully maneuvered through their home, his head nearly bumping the tops of doorways as he did so.

  And there was still Ana’s empty room. There was not a word from her. Not so much as a call or an e-mail. Claire groaned and buried her head into her hands. Her work was never going to get done at this rate. She heard a knock at her door, and her mom popped her head inside.

  “Dad wants to invite Raul over for a dinner on Sunday.”

  She furrowed her brow. “Don’t you think he’s a little sick of this place?”

  “It’s his birthday on Sunday.”

  Claire’s mouth formed a small “o” as she stared at her mother. “No way. I didn’t know.” Her mother smiled and wiggled her eyebrows.

  “Perhaps you could make that pot roast recipe that you do so well. The best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” She paused to reflect upon that. “I suppose Shifters are probably the same way.”

  Claire felt her cheeks burn. “Mom, please. I’m not trying to get with Raul.”

  Her mother batted her lashes slowly. “Sure. Sure. Of course not.” But, she left as quickly as she’d come—with a devious grin. Claire leaned back in her chair and groaned, wondering how she ever ended up again still living like a teenager with her parents.

  She’d have her diploma soon. Actually, around the same time that Raul would be finishing his year of service to her family. Her heart sunk a bit. It seemed far away, both her diploma and his contract ending, but both thoughts pulled her heart into either direction.

  “I’ll buy groceries tomorrow morning for the dinner,” she told them over lasagna. Her mother smirked in victory. Her father read off sports scores, oblivious to the exchange

  The secret to a good pot roast was marinating it. Considering Raul’s stature, she bought the largest roast they had at the store. As soon as she got home, she seasoned it with her own mixture of spices and stuck it in the fridge. Her mother gloated subtly as Claire chopped onions, potatoes, and carrots.

  “How nice of Claire, Bob,” her mother said in a teasing voice. “See how much work she’s putting into dinner tonight?”

>   “Uh-huh,” her father said and looked up from his tablet, where he often read his daily news. “Ruth, we should get to the bakery to pick up his cake soon.”

  How odd that Raul had become a part of their lives.

  “Is he bringing Angelle tonight?” Claire asked.

  “Nope, Clan babysitters agreed to take her tonight.”

  She rolled her eyes. “They’re not babysitters, Dad. He says that they have a group of men and women who act as the caretakers. Besides, Angelle is the sweetest baby.”

  “How modern of them!” her mother cheered with her cup of coffee. “Well, minus stealing our daughter.”

  Her father sucked in a sudden breath. “Ah. Well, actually…about that.”

  Claire and her mother turned on her father. In hindsight, perhaps she shouldn’t have been holding a chef’s knife in her hand, but she’d been chopping vegetables. Her father shrank back in his chair with a nervous chuckle.

  “I got a letter.”

  Immediately, Claire and her mom pounced. “Where?!” they asked in unison. Frantically, her father slipped the letter out of his leather briefcase, and they pored over it.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” Ruth asked.

  “I was waiting for dinner,” he managed under her glare. Claire read the letter quickly. It said that her sister was doing well. That she was sorry. That she would be in contact soon, but that she was officially married and mated. That she sent the letter to their father because she knew he wouldn’t react dramatically. How Claire hated her for being right on that one.

  When Raul arrived that evening, she greeted him with a full whiskey & coke.

  “Happy birthday,” she told him, but her voice was breaking. He raised a singular brow. He caught her heated look immediately.

  “What happened?” He steeled himself and went to rest a hand on her arm. She nearly melted beneath his touch, but her frustration was too hot.

  “We received a letter from my sister,” she said and glanced over her shoulder. Her parents were on the back patio, chatting tensely. Her dad would be in the doghouse for a while about this one. “She’s married and mated, whatever that means.”

  He nodded, as if expecting this, and sipped his drink. “Leonardo is a dumb young bear, but he’s no callous fool.”

  “What does mated mean?” she asked. Her own drink, a glass of wine, sat at her elbow on the counter. This would be her second glass.

  He cleared his throat. “Well…it’s complex.” His finger tapped the crook of her neck gently. “Sometimes, Shifters mark their mates with a bite. Mostly, it means that you’re binding yourself together. Between Shifters, it creates a mystical bond. Between a human and a Shifter, it’s a bit magic…but truthfully, it’s more symbolic. It means that my brother was serious. Human marriages mean little in the eyes of the clan’s laws.”

  She shivered as he removed his hand. Her parents came in from the back patio, greeting Raul. She watched him carefully.

  For a second, she’d imagined herself with that mark on her neck.

  She bit her lip. The oven timer dinged, and she went to grab the dinner. It was his birthday party, after all. She’d forget Ana for now.

  Raul

  Birthday celebrations were bizarre, if you asked Raul. He couldn’t understand why humans would celebrate the day that they were born. In Shifter Clans, they usually had a joint celebration once a year to celebrate a good life and hope for well wishes for the upcoming year.

  “No,” Claire insisted as she presented the pot roast to the table. “It’s an important holiday for you! We have to celebrate you.”

  “Bob, let’s grab the plates and everything,” Ruth said and dragged her protesting husband. He caught Claire looking heavenward but couldn’t understand why. Raul sipped his whiskey as he admired the dress that Claire was wearing tonight. It hugged her curves, and the neckline dipped down as she stooped to straighten the iron pan…

  “Birthdays are important,” she said, bringing him back. His eyes flickered up to her face. She grabbed her wine and swirled it with a sigh. “Your birthday is actually close to Ana’s. It would be in about a week.” She scoffed and downed her glass. “That brat!”

  He smirked. “I sense some unresolved anger.” Her parents came bustling back with a stack of plates.

  “The nerve to send a letter,” Claire said. Her father groaned. Her mother nodded enthusiastically in agreement. Raul let out a dark chuckle but said no more as Claire carved the roast. The tantalizing smells rose up to meet his nose. He nearly moaned in appreciation. She cut off a thick juicy slice for him and served it to him with vegetables. Around the table, she served everyone before serving herself. Some part of him loved that. He couldn’t remember Cassandra being the same way. Or any way close to that, really. He sipped his whiskey again. It would take a lot to get him drunk tonight, not that he was planning on it, but Bob’s steadily topping off his drink wasn’t helping.

  And Claire was dazzling tonight. She bitched about her sister, but gods, she looked ravishing while doing it. He even found himself laughing wildly at her recounting the times Ana had acted foolishly in life. Even her parents were laughing. It was a refreshing take after the last few months.

  “Cake time,” Claire announced as she brought out a box. He reeled backward.

  “You bought this for me?”

  “It’s tradition,” Ruth explained and then darted a glance at Bob. “Bob, I believe we’ve got to grab the cake plates.” She dragged him away. Claire snorted and opened the box, poising a knife above the cake. She shot a grin at him.

  “How do you like it?”

  It was a plain white cake with chocolate frosting. It read: Happy Birthday, Raul and a tiny figurine of a bear on top. He cackled wildly and said, “I love it!”

  She smiled, and it was a different smile than he usually saw. It was the same way she looked at Angelle, a warm smile full of sugar and cinnamon, and all those delicious things. He was dreaming about how her lips might taste when he realized that she was asking a question and now repeating it.

  “Do you want the piece with the bear?” she asked with a wink. He nodded.

  “Of course. Who else?”

  Her parents came back. It seemed as if Bob had been told of a devious plan if Raul was good at reading people and he was. It helped that you could smell the rising adrenaline on a human body. He held back a smirk.

  “You know,” Ruth began as they all dug into the cake. “I was just thinking that you’ve never seen a human university, Raul. Is that right?” Her tone was perfectly innocent. Claire was already glaring at her mother from the other side of the table, her wine glass refilled.

  “Yes,” he replied casually, trying to feign ignorance of her obvious plan. The only person it would’ve been obvious to was Bob, but he was in on it now, Raul imagined.

  “Claire,” Ruth said and batted her lashes at her oldest daughter. “Wouldn’t it be lovely if you showed Raul your university? It would be such a fun cultural exchange.”

  “Cultural exchange,” Claire repeated with some venom beneath her tone. Raul imagined that she wanted to snap the stem of the wine glass. He had to force himself not to smile wildly. “Are you sure about that?”

  “I’d be interested,” he piped up. Claire looked at him with raised brows.

  “Really?” she asked. Ruth grinned.

  “Then it’s settled. You guys can go on a picnic. There’s a lovely garden area in her university. I think you’ll enjoy it, Raul.”

  He raised his glass to Claire’s. “To our picnic.” She bit her lip and clinked her glass to his.

  Perhaps he’d been wrong about these human traditions. Birthdays turned out to be fun. As they wrapped up the dinner, he was left cleaning up with Claire while her parents went to put away the leftovers in the kitchen.

  “What should I bring to our picnic?” he asked. She chuckled.

  “What do Shifters like to eat?”

  “Meat and potatoes, if I’m being honest,” he fir
ed back.

  “Fair enough. Maybe bring some sandwiches. I’ll pack the rest. Bring Angelle too, if you want.”

  “Deal,” he told her. When he said goodbye, he hugged each of them, a custom he’d been taught quickly by her family. When he hugged Claire, he tried to linger a second longer than he had with the others. She pulled away with pinker cheeks than he’d ever seen.

  It was a good birthday.

  Claire

  Claire carefully chose her outfit. She wasn’t sure what their outing, so she chose a knee-length dress that didn’t scream “DATE.” Did Raul and Shifters date? They must do something. Somehow, Ana had met his brother after all and run off with her eyes filled with hearts.

  Raul’s freckles looked cuter than usual, she thought, as they packed up his truck. He’d dropped her off a few times before for school and already knew the way. She navigated him to the guest parking, and they grabbed all of their picnic gear. He strapped Angelle into a stroller. Claire wondered if they looked like a young family. Hopefully, they wouldn’t run into any of her colleagues while they were out.

  It was a five-minute walk to the gardens. She pointed out the buildings that she went to for class, tall and intimidating buildings that saw stressed students coming in and out. He whistled.

  “I can see why your college is so expensive,” he said. “These buildings are massive.” She snorted.

  “My college isn’t that bad for the price. I mean, it’s all expensive, but not as much for a state school, at least.”

  “Right, right,” he muttered. “I forgot the difference. There’s public and private, right?”

  “Yes, although even with my scholarships, I still have to take out a few loans here and there,” she said with a sigh. “Hopefully, it’ll pay off.”