Chapter 70 - Respect

At the porch, I knocked loudly this time, As loudly as my fists would allow before breaking the door. In a few seconds, a man opened the door. Yep, it was him, standing half-naked, the bottom half only covered by a towel.

“Oh, Naomi. It’s really you isnt it? I’ve heard so much-“

“I came to see my mother if you don’t mind,” I said, closing my eyes and trying not to think about his tool that had been in my eyes an hour ago.

“Oh, of course,” he said, turning into the house. He was an aged man alright, but his features weren’t that horrible. His shoulders were drooped, his back was tight, and his biceps were still very visible. Most of the giveaway that he was an aged warrior came from his creaky movements and the wrinkles and sags around his face and under his chin.

But he certainly didn’t sound like it when I had been over a couple of hours ago! He sounded young and full of life! Enough Time to stop thinking about that.

“Moira!” he called. That was my mother’s middle name. They were already on that kind of basis? My mom soon appeared behind the door, holding what seemed to be a hot plate.

“Naomi?” she started “Well, what are you doing out there? Come on in!” she instructed. The man paved the way, and I, very reluctantly, stepped into the house.

“I killed some ducks just over the land behind us. Guess what we’re having for dinner?” teased my mom.

“You know Duck Stew is my favourite!” said the man.

“Settle down, the both of you.” She said. “I was actually hoping to speak to you on another matter-“ I started.

“Just hold on one second, sweetie, I’m pouring the stew” cautioned my mom, as I stood behind the countertop with the man. Still, he was half-naked, ogling over my mother’s cooking.

It took significant restraint on my end not to yell at him, but considering this wasn’t my house, I made to bear with it. He looked at me several times and withdrew his gaze equally. I have never been in a more awkward atmosphere in my entire life. But he soon spoke. “You know, you gave us quite a scare when you-“

“Julio!” warned my mom.

“Oh, right. Right. Sorry.” He said.

“Mom, can I talk to you? Alone?” I asked brazenly.

She nodded. “Take a walk, Julio”

“But, but, it’s duck stew-“

“Julio!” she warned again. The man called Julio tightened the towel around his waist, and left the living area, into one of the bedrooms, closing the door gently. I intervened in the matter, grabbing the other end of the handle and slamming it shut. Mom wiped her hands with an oven mitt.

“What’s up?” she asked me. I chuckled.

“A lot of things apparently,” I said.

“Are you talking about Julio?”

“I’m not talking about anything” I denied.

“Come on, Naomi - He’s” she stopped. I shook my head in a gesture for her to continue. “He’s what? A Giggolo?” I asked.

“You know, you don’t have a lot of respect, do you, Nay Nay?” she asked seriously.

“Respect? You want to talk to me about respect?” I asked. I pointed to the Bedroom. “There’s your respect.”

She hissed. “Julio’s done a lot more for this pack than you and your peers combined. Where do you get off being so condescending?” “Done a lot of things. You were mated to one of the greatest Alphas the Canadian Association had ever seen.”

"And where is he huh?!! Where the hell has he been? I don’t blame you though. I also used to think like that. I even flexed it a lot at the Council meetings. But what good is it being mated to a ghost? To a dream? In fact, with you not around, I really did believe it was a dream. Had I even been mated at all? All those years slipped away. I’ve forgotten most of them you know.” she monologues.

“And Julio, he fills that void?” I asked sardonically and with a poor choice of words.

“He makes me happy,” she said.

“Oh, I could hear it, alright. I believe you.” She sighed and turned away.

“Did you come all this way just to argue? Do you even have a significant point to make, or do you just want to flail your arms around?” she asked, realising my intentions.

She was a grown woman. The fuck was she supposed to do? And the fuck could I do to stop her? I strolled to sit down by the countertop.

“Sorry, I just thought, you should have waited longer,” I said. She scoffed.

“If I held out any longer, I’d be dead. No, not because I was horny or anything, but do you know how hard it is to keep your heart open? He didn’t even say anything to me when he left.” Said my mom.

I wanted to protest but the only other option for my Dad not to say anything would be that he was kidnapped, and killed, most likely, so I shut the fuck up.

“I wouldn’t wish it on you,” she said, and sighed, continuing to pour out the stew.

“Sorry,” I apologized.

“Come now, let’s not talk about depressing things. You saw it, didn’t you?” she winked at me.

“Saw what?” She made a long stroking motion in the air.

When I saw it, I almost retched. “No, I didn’t see anything!”

“No need to lie. Just know your mom doesn’t mess around when it comes to the bedroom.”

“Please, let’s stop talking about this.”

She laughed. “So, what does Harris have you doing now that you’re back? Patrol duty?” she asked, changing the tone.

“Actually, I’m not back. Officially.”

“What does that mean?”

“He was saying something about the Trials?”

She set aside the pot. “The Trials. He’s having you retake the trials?”

“Actually, I never took them. I was promoted on a merit basis, remember?”

She strained her eyebrows to think. “Oh, yes! You were a little hunk of talent back then. Fun fact, your father was also promoted on a merit basis when he was your age.”

“I remember. You guys wouldn’t shut up about it that year. And I’m still a hunk of talent, thank you very much.”

“What’s your plan?”

“My plan? Did you not just hear what I said? I’ll pass.” I said defiantly. My mother looked at me concerningly.

“With that grip of 2 weeks ago, you’re not passing shit.” she chuckled.