“Oh! Oh my gosh!” Erica claps her hands with glee and Bailey’s pup startles and runs, frightened.
Erica looks horrified.
“Don’t sweat it, Erica. Her wolf just needs to sync up with her. It’ll happen. Later, guys. Better catch up and keep her out of trouble.”
Riley’s laughing as I shift back to four paws and catch up with her as she trots down her brother’s street like she knows just where she’s going, stopping every so often to sniff something. A lamp post. The fire hydrant. She picks up a stick and carries it in her mouth the rest of the way.
When we get to Grey’s house, he’s on the front lawn with a garden hose, talking to his neighbor Claire.
Grey’s eyes pivot to us and he frowns for a second before he watches Bailey’s wolf run to him, drop the stick at his feet, and jump up, putting her paws on his legs.
I shift to two feet.
“What the fuck?” Grey asks.
Bailey’s wolf changes her mind about sayinghito her brother and moves to the still flowing hose and puts her head under it, drinking it while getting drenched.
“Language, Greyson,” Claire, who is about seventy-five years old, berates.
Ironically, Claire is known for her potty mouth.
“She showed up last night,” I say. “Mating evidently triggered it.”
“Triggered what? Who’s child is this?” Claire asks. “The scent is familiar.”
“Bailey.” I gesture.
Claire frowns. “Bailey?”
Bailey’s pup backs off from the hose, shakes the water off, sits, and pants, looking between us.
“Bailey,” I confirm.
“I’ll be damned,” Grey says. “Hey, Squirt.”
She throws her head back and bellows a cute little howl. “Awoo!”
Grey cracks up.
“No synchronization whatsoever,” I say, “though I’m sure that’ll come.”
Grey squats and pats her head. “Congratulations to you two.”
He tosses the stick and she runs, grabbing it and bringing it back. As she drops it, she yips before she starts chasing her tail.
“Yes, congratulations, Jason and Bailey,” Claire says, looking down at Bailey’s crazy little pup who’s caught her own tail and is growling at it while it’s between her teeth.
“Thanks,” I say.
Bailey’s wolf suddenly pounces in the opposite direction, running for the flowerbed bordering Grey’s house, getting her face into a giant spherical pink flower with loads of petals. She immediately sneezes, then follows a fat bee for a minute as it goes from flower to flower before we all watch her put her nose to the ground again and head down the road toward the park.
“Later,” I say, shifting back to four paws and following my mate through the park toward her parents’ place.
***
“Don’t think anybody’s home, Bay,” I tell her.
I’ve shifted back to two feet after she’s walked the perimeter of the house. Neither of her parents’ vehicles are out front and the front door is locked. I try the kitchen door and that’s locked too.