The Scrabble board was laid across the coffee table of the third-floor den with Seth, Yasmine, Fable, and Beryl on each side. As was usual whenever they played, Yasmine was spilling her letters everywhere as she struggled to shield them from Fable’s curious eyes.
“There,” Beryl announced, spreading her word on the board. “Plasma.’
“Typical, Dr. Blanchard,” Fable remarked, writing down her sister’s score.
It was Yasmine’s turn. Giddily she sprawled out her letters, connecting with another word on the board to spell out the word pregnant. Seth’s eyes grew huge, and Beryl raised an inquisitive brow. Fable sat mute, cringing from the very thought of babies and pregnancy—still protecting her secret.
“Uh, Yazzy,” Seth stammered. “Please tell me you’re not using Scrabble to tell me something?”
“What?” Yasmine replied innocently. “Oh, pregnant! Lord no, Seth! I am not pregnant. It’s just a game word.”
“Thank goodness!” Seth sighed.
“Well, what if I was?!” Yasmine snapped. “Nice reaction.”
Seth wrapped his arm around his wife and smiled, “Oh, baby, I didn’t mean it like that.”
Yasmine ducked away from his arm. “You smell, Seth Blanchard. Did you even shower after you left the gym?”
Seth pulled her back into him again, “Aw, Yaz, don’t be like that. You know I’d love to have a baby with you. I plan to have a bunch. But not yet. We just got married. Lots of time for that. I’m way too young to be a parent.”
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“We are all too young to be parents,” Beryl added. “I know I am not ready, and I’m the oldest.”
Fable thought to herself, I am too young to be a good mother. I know I’m not ready yet. So why can’t I make the decision to end this thing? Why is this so hard to terminate? She wanted so much to confide in her family. Beryl, Seth, and Yasmine were not just family—they were her best friends. She needed them now more than ever. But it wasn’t that simple. If she had been carrying the baby of one of her average boyfriends, that would be one thing. How do you tell everyone that you are carrying the child of the werewolf who tried to kill them all?
Seth took his turn next, applying the word leap to the board. “Seven points, write it down.”
“As if seven points could help your score,” Fable noted. Looking at the words already on the board, she tried to see where she could apply the word step for the most points. Ladder would have been the perfect spot, but another word crossed it too closely to the space she needed. Then, she saw plenty of room above father. “Stepfather.”
Seth laughed. “Subconsciousness looking ahead?”
“Huh?”
“Aunt Demitra’s new boyfriend we met Thanksgiving,” he clarified.
“Don’t even make jokes,” Fable said. “I’m not prepared for that.’
“He seemed like a nice enough man,” Beryl noted. “Mother has been alone a long time. She deserves some happiness. I don’t like the idea of her with anyone else either, but she’s still young. She’s mourned Dad for ten years.”
Beryl began her next turn. As she laid out the word photo, her cell phone rang on the table beside her. She quickly answered it, changing her word to phone as she did.
“Hi!” Beryl said to the caller. “Okay...I’m listening...she did? I see...I understand. I’ll meet you there tomorrow night.”
Beryl ended the call. She seemed disturbed somehow by whomever she’d been talking to.
“Who was that?” Fable asked.
Beryl didn’t answer right away. She looked to be still mulling over the call, but in fact, she was thinking up a plausible answer to the question that was not the truth. “A colleague. She needs a consult tomorrow on a patient.”
“At night?” Yasmine remarked.
“Huh?” Beryl said snapping back to focus.
“You told her you’d meet her tomorrow night,” Yasmine reminded her. “Do doctors do consultations at night?”
Beryl thought fast, “If they are friends and want to meet for drinks to discuss it, they do.”