Esme

As I walk through the dark valley, I look up at the trees around me. I remember coming out here as a little girl, always compelled to run till I hit the end. Why did I always feel the need to come out here? Comfort, maybe? Whenever my parents got into a fight I’d take a walk out there, just to feel the wind in my hair. I’d stay out in the wooded area for hours, and I would never look back, not until I was heading back for the night.
But that was in the past. I am no longer a little girl. And my parents are long since divorced. They now have split ownership over the vacation home, well for another 6 days until I turn 18, and then it belongs to me. The vacation house is a one story cottage out on the lake. Behind it is the infamous forestry that I love so much. It is only a mile or so out of town, so it won’t be a big traveling problem when I move in for good.
It’s weird looking back at the cottage and knowing that its mine, all mine. How many 18 year olds do you know that can say, “Hello everyone. My name is Parker. I live in a nice little two bedroom cottage, really close to town with a lot of cool neighbors that I’ve known since forever. Oh did I mention that I own the place, and all the bills are paid by a fund set up by my Grammy, so it’s pretty much free for me, well except for food.”
It is so perfect, the University is only about two miles in the other direction, and there is never really any bad traffic. I must say, I have it made. I only have one problem, I can’t live alone. Its not that I’m not allowed to or anything, I just get really lonely sometimes and I have an over active imagination and I tend to freak myself out sometimes. It doesn’t help much that I’m afraid of the dark.
Hence the reason I posted the offer up at the university and I got quite a few takers. Of course I’ll charge them rent, but I’ll use the money for food, so it’s ok.

After about 3 days of having the poster up, I started the interview for prospective roommates…and it is pure hell. Why is it that they all either are complete weirdoes or they can’t take the fact that I’m a lesbian! Well this one guy liked it, a little bit too much, if you ask me. At this point and at this rate, I think I’m going to give up.

Two weeks after I put up the post, and about 7 interviews later, I think I’ve finally found the prefect roommate! She’s taller than I am, and I assume she is either full or part Native American, judging by her skin tone, eyes, and bone structure. Her hair is jet black and pulled into a long, tight braid starting at the nape of her neck and ending just over her butt. She is wearing dark blue hip hugger jeans and a white tee shirt that fits her very generous breast nicely. Her belt has one of those cool buckles, you know, the big circle ones you get for winning at the rodeo? Hers isn’t one of those though, only similar. It has a howling wolf in its worn silver. I think I like it.
She clears her throat and I look up past her belt to her eyes, my hazel meeting her dark brown. “How much did you say the rent is?” she asked me, but I didn’t realize I had been talking. “Oh! About one hundred or so bucks a month, but you don’t give it to me, you make groceries with it.” I say with a smile on my full lips. Hers are thinner than mine but far from thin.
She raises one of those perfect black brows, “So what you’re telling me is: I have my own room, fully furnished; my own bathroom; free rein to any room in the house; any time access to the boat and 4 wheelers. And all I have to do is keep food in the house?” She looks pretty skeptical.
I smiled and say “That about sums it up. Oh, and I’d prefer it if you didn’t throw any parties here with out discussing it with me first. I don’t much like parties.” She stares at me for a moment, those gorgeous eyes piercing into mine. A slow smile spreads across her tan face, “I can do that.”
We stand then and shake on the deal. “Do you have any questions?” I ask, I don’t know why, I just had nothing else to say. “How soon can I move in?” she asks. “As soon as you want,” I tell her, “This first months free ‘cause my Grammy just stocked up.”
She walks towards the door and I stare at her round butt. As she opens the door I remember that I completely ignored her when she told me her name, I was too for gone in staring at those luscious mounds of hers. I look at the paper really quickly, “Esmeralda?” I call out to her, half questioning if I was reading it right. She doesn’t look like an Esmeralda, that’s just too…weird.
She looks back and says “It’s Esme, no one but my mother calls me Esmeralda. Most likely, just to annoy me.”
“Ok then, Esme, when are you going to move in?” I ask just so I can hear the strong roll of her voice again.
“In about an hour, I have to load the truck.”
I stare at her dumbly. Her eyes laugh and the corner of he lips quirk up. “Is that a problem?” “No! No, not at all. That just caught me off guard.” She laughs and opens the door wider.
“Esme,” I stop her again. For some reason unknown to me, I don’t want her to leave and an hour seems like a long time for her to be away from me. I just met the woman! What the hell is wrong with me!
She smiles that sexy smile at me again. If she keeps that up I’m going to die! “Yeah?” she asks.
“I’m a lesbian, just thought you should know before you move in.” I blurt out. Heavens knows why. I feel like such an idiot and I can tell that my face is as red as un`/ ripe tomato.
“I kind of figured that.” She says then walks out the door and shut it behind her. I stare out the window on the door after her.

***

I can’t believe he didn’t tell me! I thought to myself as I drove to the den to pick up my things. He tells me he is putting me on a “special mission” to protect a pup, an omega pup, none the less.
“She reached peak less than two weeks ago, if I am correct. She has no clue what we are, or what she is for that matter.” I can’t believe he found my mate and didn’t tell me!
I walk into the den—more like a three story apartment building that the Alfa owns—and walk straight into a room marked manager. Isaiah, the Alfa, other than his annoying tendency to leave out details, is the perfect Alfa. He is strong, wise, bold, commanding, and courageous. Unlike other Alfas, he is a very generous and kind hearted man. Isaiah looks up from his papers and I expose my neck. He nods and I sit in front of his desk.
“I met the omega, and I am preparing to move in.” I tell him, though it is not necessary because he knows all that I do as I do it or even sometimes before; just another quirk in being an Alfa, he knows all and sees all.
“How was the pup?” he asks, “All is well, I hope.”
I stare him in the eye and ask point blank, “Why did you not tell me that you were sending me to meet my mate?”
He lets out a loud bout of laughter, his baritone filling the room, warming it. “It is not my place to tell you, only to find her for you. Plus, I do believe that today is your birthday. I wanted it to be a surprise.”
And a surprise it was. I haven’t celebrated the marker of my birth in decades, how did he even remember? After leaving his office, I went into my room in the den and started to collect my things. It isn’t much, but it is all mine; things I have collected over the years. After I finish compiling everything into two duffels and three boxes, I double check to make sure I grabbed all the important things. As I walk into my now old bed room, I see the 8x8 oil painting of my mother and father. I can’t believe I didn’t grab this old thing. It’s the only thing I have left of them both. I tuck it under my arm and take it and the duffels to my Tahoe. When I get there, my pack mate and best friend, Saia is putting my boxes into the back seat.
“Are you going to leave without saying goodbye?” He asks in feigned hurt and disappointment. He’s mouth was frowning by his eyes were laughing. Saia is one of the biggest wolves I have ever met besides Isaiah; Isaiah always says that he is destined to be an Alfa one day. Well, mainly because Saia is his son. Saia, like his dad, has long dark hair but has piercing blue eyes like his mom. He is more fair skinned than his dad, but still darker than his mom. Not to mention that he is drop dead gorgeous. I joke that if it weren’t for him being gay and my being a lesbian, we’d be mates. That’s probably not far from the truth.
“You know I love you baby.” I say as I push in my bags then hook my arms around his neck. He kisses my forehead and smiles “So the pup is you mate? Do I need to be jealous?”
I laugh at him, “You will always be my first love, but she is hot.”
“Details!” He squeals in his horrible high pitched voice that I hate so much. “Tell me everything!”
“Well, she’s short, kind of round, and kind of pretty.” I say defiantly, I already know that he isn’t going to let those brief words of description fly. “What the hell do you mean ‘short, round, and kind of pretty! You have to be shitting me!”
I laugh again and smooth his hair down from the wind blowing it like ruffled feathers. “Ok, she’s about five feet two inches tall, has perfect curves like they did when I was younger, her rack is A-Fucking-Mazing, she has short pixie hair the color of dark honey with a hint of strawberry, and she has a soft face that turns red when ever I catch her looking at me. Is that to your liking, young sir?”
The Cheshire smile on his face was all the answer I needed. “Not to mention, as I was leaving, she blurted out that she swings for our team.” He releases another one of his epic squeals and does his happy dance. “When can I meet the love of your life?”
I kiss his lips lightly, teasingly and say “Look in the mirror, sweetheart.” Before he can say anything else, I hop into the truck and turn on the engine. He motions for me to roll down the window and more seriously says “Happy birthday Esme, don’t make yourself a stranger.”

***