“No jumping on the bed, you little monkey!” Angelica scolded.
“Sorry Mom, it’s just that—”
“No jumping on the bed. On your butt, or I’ll have Grandma get her spoon out!”
Harry let himself fall onto the bed with eyes wide open. Angelica left the room, leaving the door open a crack. Bailey was waiting for her in the hallway.
“Let’s go,” Angelica said.
Roscoe was happy his human Andrea was back. She’d given him a bath after those men in plastic clothes and dark glasses left. He didn’t like the bath, but he loved when she used the big blanket thing to rub his skin dry. It felt good all over, and as an added bonus, he could rub his scent back on her, so she knew she belonged to him. He hadn’t forgotten her during her absence.
Once dry, they both sat on her front porch. She drank something out of a round thing that smelled fruity, with a bite of something chemical smelling. He saw two of his other humans coming, his alpha’s mate, and the big woman he’d decided could stay with his pack.
“Angelica, Bailey,” Andrea said, rising, using the railing to pull herself up.
“Hi,” Angelica said. “Any chance we can talk for a minute?”
“Sure, pull up a chair! Want me to make you girls a screwdriver? I know it’s early, but my nerves are shot after those agents visited. I know I’m not supposed to, but I needed a small one.”
“Um, maybe you should hear what I have to say first. You might want to toss the drink in my face, or worse,” Bailey said.
“This sounds serious,” Andrea said, getting up and getting a cup and making her a drink anyway. “What about you, Angel?”
“It’s a little early, but what the hell. Tito’s?” she asked hopefully.
“You got it,” Andrea said with a grin.
She refreshed her drink after fixing the others one each, and sat down on the rocker on her cabin’s front porch and held her glass up. “To friends, family and new friends and family. I know I shouldn’t be having a drink, but today sucks.”
They all said cheers and took a sip, Andrea’s the smallest of all of them. She put her glass on the railing and looked over at Angelica with a puzzled expression, trying to figure things out. Her new friend Bailey looked terrified, but Angelica just waited with a patient smile.
“Doctor Mallory—”
“It’s Andrea, we’re all friends here,” she interrupted.
“Andrea… The day you were hurt and attacked… I was there on the bridge.”
Andrea picked up her cup and took a bigger drink, then put it back.
“I was ten feet back from the edge when somebody threw that brick. He’d missed plenty of times on the other side and had wanted to try to hit a fancy car and mess up the paint, maybe break some windows. I… I cheered when I thought he’d bounced one off your hood. I didn’t realize it had gone through the windshield and onto you. Then you hit the supports… and the mob… I saw it all happen, and all I could think was, good. This will get the city's attention. Then the gunfire, the screaming. I now know much of it was yours. You had to kill, you shot them.”
Andrea was visibly shaking, and she closed her eyes, breathing deeply, but her breathing wavered as she fought to control a sob that wanted to escape. The events of the bridge played back in the theater behind her closed eyes. She focused on the memory, and pushed away the fear as best as she could before it swamped her.
“That’s when I realized that shit had got serious. I didn’t care at the time, because all I figured was it was some rich old white lady. I was snatched up with a dozen others not long after that, and dumped at Kelso. I didn’t know who the lady in the car was until the FBI agents showed up and I heard your husband talking to them. It was easy for me to hate you for what you stood for when I didn’t have a face or a name to put with the person. Now that I’ve met you… you’re one of the kindest women I’ve ever met, and you’re a doctor. You’ve literally dedicated your life to helping other people. I’m so sorry. I’m a fucking worthless asshole.”
Andrea kept her eyes closed. She focused on her breathing until she had that under control, and then opened them up. Bailey’s face was tear streaked. Angelica had her hand on the big woman’s arm. Andrea stood and grabbed her glass. She took another dainty sip, then dumped the contents over the porch and turned back to the big woman.
“Bailey, do you have faith?”
“In what?” she asked softly.
“Do you believe Jesus Christ died for our sins?” Andrea asked her.
“I’m not religious, if that’s what you’re asking,” Bailey said, being as truthful as she could be.
“I’m not a go to church every Sunday type of girl myself,” Andrea told her, “me and Jesus have our own thing, like the country song. But I believe that Christ died for our sins. That means we all have a second chance. A chance to change who we are. A chance for forgiveness. A chance for a do-over.”
Bailey was quiet, head down, still crying softly. “Do I even deserve a second chance? I’d like to, or a way to earn one. I…”
“I’m not upset with you Bailey,” Andrea said walking over to the big woman and using her small hands to tip the big woman’s head up. “I forgive you.”
“I don’t deserve it!” Bailey started crying harder.
“We’ll see about that,” Andrea told her.
“Doc,
