Splinter - 10. Homestead and Healing

When Pat and I finally got back to Montana, it seemed as if the entire pack was waiting for us. Not just our pack. Several of our neighboring packs had sent people to welcome us home. I could easily pick out Pop, Dylan, and Aunt Minerva since they were taller than everyone else. Banners were hung from tall poles, a few flags waved, and lots of cheers went up.

Pat took my hand and leaned in. “I think they missed us or something.”

“Or something. Jeeze.” We went down the stairs to the tarmac, and I lost count at two hundred seventy-ish hugs. Had I been any sort of claustrophobic, I would have been in hell. I had missed my pack. I held up my hands for silence. It crashed down on the crowd. “Thank you all for meeting us here. Thanks to our neighbors for joining the homecoming.” While I was happy, my voice was serious. “This is a difficult time for all of us. We’ve lost friends, family, or just that neighbor we didn’t really talk to.” That got a few small smiles. I stood there in silence for a moment, gathering my thoughts and wishing I could turn back time. “We can begin to heal now. A dangerous threat has been dealt with, and our region can start to move on. We cannot replace those taken from us, but we can keep them in our memory. Hell, maybe we can start having the old timers turn it into a legend. The first legend of Homestead.” That earned a few more grins.

“We can mourn, we can heal, and we can live on. Not all can.” I told them of the funerals I attended, although Pat kept Heather in the loop, and she had apparently started a private Facebook group letting the pack and allies know what had been going on. “To our allies, old,” I said to the reps from Alpha Ianevski’s pack, “and new,” I said to Aunt Minerva, “I open the borders of Homestead without reservation. If anything ever happens, don’t be afraid to call for help, call for a visit, or call to bitch. You’ll be given to Pat for that last one.” My mated nodded while he rolled his eyes. He knew I had about all the phone bitching I could stand. “All of you, each member here and from our allied packs, are officially family and are invited to my son’s wedding in one month.” I shot a grin over at Heather who would have to find how to fit about fifty plus more people into the wedding venue. She didn’t even look mildly annoyed. She nodded like it was the perfect thing to say.

I could see Phuong standing between two men around Dylan’s age. One had the same shape to his brow and eyes as my Pop, which meant that was Rhava, my cousin. The other would be Marcus. Both were to be mated to Phuong Saechao in the future. “Joy can be found in the darkest of times. Our pack-sister Phuong has found her mate in my cousin Rhava and his soulmate Marcus, bringing the families of Homestead, RVF, and Equis Camp closer.” Those closest to her shook the men’s hands and gave her hugs. “May the drug she slipped them never wear off.” A gust of wind smacked me in the back of the head playfully. The worst part was, with four shamans in the crowd, I couldn’t tell who did it.

My gaze swept over the crowd. “We’re glad to be home, but there is still much work to do. I have a daunting task ahead of me, and I will be turning to all off you for help.” I explained what I was assigned to do with the former ECP lands. “If any of you know of anyone capable of taking on the responsibility, let me know. Maybe a young alpha who has been itching to prove herself or someone willing to take on the job and work away from home. For most of you, family ties are still strong to the former ECP. Let anyone at the camp know.”

I scanned the crowd and saw four familiar faces. My grin was huge. Some old friends from the ECP were standing in the crowd. Tommy had made it with his sister Tabitha, their father Darius, and Heather’s mom Betty. I raised my brow hopefully, and all of them nodded. Then I saw Tabitha take a man’s hand. The man was holding a toddler dressed in the cutest purple Osh Kosh Bgosh overalls. Looks like Tabi found herself a husband with a son. The boy was too old to be hers unless she had him when she was fifteen or so.

“I would also like to welcome a few old friends as new faces to Homestead Pack. Darius Hollyman and his two spawn Tommy and Tabitha,” I said with a grin, “and Betty Morris, Heather’s mother. Most of you probably know them, and if not, get to. They’re some of the best people to know.” I went on to tell them about what had happened with the Council and nearly everything else.

When I was nearly out of steam, Dean spoke up as he took a step forward. “We should let Alpha Davenport and Alpha Mate Farris get to bed. They’re probably tired,” he said without much preamble, “and probably want to shag before they pass out.” Kao smacked him in their arm playfully.

I looked at Pat who had looked at me at the same time. We turned simultaneously to Dean and nodded. Since most Lycans were perpetually horny, especially with their mate around, they all understood and didn’t keep us any longer. I motioned for Dylan to follow as we went to my truck. “Did you get a status report from the Corps and your boys?”

“Nothing happened. Neither security nor our Hunters were called for anything. They’ve been bored, but I like hearing that from them. The boys reported a lot of cuddles happened while I was gone, ninety-five percent including Heather since they all missed me. You too, I guess.” He shrugged, and if he hadn’t had a bullet in his brain two months ago, I would have smacked the back of his head.

“So, the boys will be joining your wedding and honeymoon? I need to cover their shifts if they are.”

Dylan nodded. “Two weddings, one honeymoon, one huge poly relationship, and you get three new sons.”

It could be far worse. I mean, the boys were totally awesome, and my son could not have asked for better friends to have as brothers and lovers. I remembered when Colton showed up at Homestead for a job. He and Dyl just clicked as buds and bros, and they’ve been close since. When Quintin showed up, he needed help with a stalker ex-boyfriend, which Dylan and Colt did, with the help of Zeke, Quint’s closest friend. You know, other than Quint and the Little Dude having their soulmate crap. They were all perfect for each other, and then you toss in Heather who is probably all for the reverse harem.

I had to ask. “So, she okay with you four hornballs?”

My son blushed. “That was a fun conversation, but yeah, she’s totally okay with it. Fuck you.” The last two words made me laugh. If Dyl ever used anything remotely close to surfer lingo, he blamed me and Dean, and usually followed it with something like this. It’s about the only time I never even get annoyed if he directs profanity at me. The legacy will live on, which was mondo cool. “It means we’ll either need to build a place here for the five of us, with hopefully rooms for future spawn, or find some place bigger. The cabin is a great starter home, but we need more.”

I saw and smelled how much it cost him to admit he needed something. He had huge hang-ups about asking for anything more serious than passing him a paper towel, so he must really want to stay around to even suggest building a new place. I love my son.

“Then we’ll start construction of a new place. At least four bedrooms, three bathrooms so Heather can have her own, and all the fixings. You and yours will pay for labor, I’ll pay for materials, and we’ll call it a wedding present for you and my soon-to-be kids.” I was ready for it, so when Dylan pulled me into a massive hug, I didn’t get killed.

“God, I love you, Dad. Really. I could never ask for a better man to teach me how to become a man.”

I could never ask for a better compliment. I wasn’t going to tell him Pat and I had already discussed the possibility of a new home for them as well as a new SUV when Heather gets preggers. The home would be built quickly, like “Extreme Makeover: Home Edition” quickly. Hopefully by the time they get back from their honeymoon.

(*  *  *)

The wedding had been a bit strange, but then, it included my family, so I should have expected that. I also should have expected the amount of people considering Dylan had a huge extended family. We had people from other countries come in since it was the first Solar/Lunar mating in close to five hundred years. I don’t mean just Canada and Mexico. I mean there were people here from Egypt, New Zealand, and Greece. Still, after a decade of raising him, I had to say goodbye to my son and new kids for at least three months. Two to get his magic under control at Equis Camp, and one to bum around Europe with his wife and husbands.

The house was completed within two weeks, furnished in a month with Heather sending us ideas from Canada, and sat there on the shore of the little lake until my sons and daughter came home. I missed them as the months passed. Looking at the house was a constant reminder they were gone but would be home soonish. Not soonish enough for me. I got phone calls, emails, postcards, a group shot of all of them in their fur in Crete taken by the local bush doctor, and one Skype call where they hadn’t even been wearing clothes. Apparently, they were taking a break mid-coitus session, at least Dylan and Heather were, although it was kind of Colton to stop blowing Zeke long enough to say hello.

They were home by Thanksgiving, which I was grateful for. They had come in the night before, rather 1 am the morning of, and had pretty much crashed in their new place and their massive 15’ x 10’ bed. Of course, they were up by 8 am and Heather just walked into our house like she had for a long time, shocking me and Pat since we hadn’t known they were home. She just kissed our cheeks, asked what was on the menu for the holiday, and set about cooking like they hadn’t been gone for months. After the momentary shock wore off, Pat got up and began to help what we had planned to bring to the community Turkey Day event organized by Betty who had been filling in as my assistant while her daughter was getting laid by four handsome hunks.

Everyone was ecstatic to have them home. Aunt Minerva and Travis had joined us, Pop, and my mom of all people. She came in from Australia about an hour before the Thanksgiving Day even was going to start.

She never left Rooville, hated flying, and could only stand Pop for an hour before she wanted to kill him again and again. With love, of course, and maybe a golden dagger if he was being particularly stubborn.

No one told me she would be coming. All Betty said was I needed to be at the airport to pick up a guest. So, I went, thinking it was probably someone like my bud Troy or Ginger.

“Mom!” I screamed and ran over to give her a huge hug. I hadn’t seen her in a few years, and she had aged gracefully into her late 60’s.

“Hello, Pest,” she said affectionately. After being adopted by Pop, he had introduced us. We got on famously, but she realized I could be a mondo pest, hence the nickname she always used for me. Dylan was Brat. “You haven’t changed at all since I saw you last. Those Lycan genes have been great for your complexion.”

I rolled my eyes as I grabbed her bags. She had watched me struggle with bad acne growing up, so this was one of those things she felt compelled to comment on. The fact that she hated all things Lycan told me how glad she was to see me. She hadn’t been thrilled to know I had been turned, but she liked Pat well enough. “How long are you staying? You do know Pop is going to be here for a week, right?”

“Two weeks. Since I missed the Brat’s wedding, I told him I would make a trip out to meet his wife and husbands.” Her tone left no room for doubt on her thought on the subject of a poly relationship. She would reserve judgement though until she met Dylan’s spouses.

“This should be interesting. He has told you about them, right?”

“Yes, dear. He has shared far too much about them for my more traditional sensibilities. I want you honest opinion of them. Not as alpha, as Dylan’s Dad.”

“I have never seen a more perfect match. Not even Pat and I are as sickening or devoted. I trust them without reservation, love them all, and I hope to have a passel of pups or cubs or kittens, or whatever mixed ‘breed they come out. The boys have helped my and Dyl’s relationship to mature and evolve. Not only do I see he’s a grown man, he’s grown into a man I can look at with pride without the fear I’ll lose him to some random Feral incursion. Most of that credited to Quintin.”

She nodded, keeping silent as we hopped into my truck. I was familiar with her silences when she was thinking, so it wasn’t uncomfortable. I pulled around the back of the cabin she would be staying in so she could freshen up and change into something a bit less “grandma chic” than capris and a light T-shirt. She came out dressed in slacks and a nice blouse with her shawl about her shoulders since it was November in Montana.

Pat joined me with a smile. “Hello, Patrick,” she said, kissing his cheek. We each offered her an arm as we escorted her to the community dining hall for the camp.

Typhoon Dylan surged towards us as he saw his grandmother, picking her up in his massive arms. She hated when Pop did that, but she seemed to soften when Little Dude did it. They hadn’t seen each other since Dylan was barely nineteen and almost six inches shorter. When he carried her over to the table, still hugging her, he set her across from him and beside Aunt Minerva.

“Minerva. This is a surprise,” Mom said honestly.

“No more for you than I. It seems all but my grandchildren are here, but that is a tale we can tell later.” I was told Minerva and Mom had gotten along very well during the few weeks after Dylan’s mother was born.

Dinner had been wonderful, and Mom and Pop hadn’t fought at all. Mom seemed to like the boys, but she was absolutely in love with Heather. They chatted up a storm, and I knew there would be no problem with my kids’ relationship.

(*  *  *)

Christmas day held a wonderful gift. It was just a simple card from my kids. Inside was a black and white blobby picture with a note which read, “Can’t wait to meet you, Grandpa.” Heather was due in June.

THE END