Whoopsie Daisy Read online

  “Anyhow, my family and I went back home before Momma’s family did. But before I left, Momma and I made a promise to keep in contact with each other.”

  “And we did!” They both say at the same time.

  These two are sickeningly adorable and have set the bar high. Good luck to you, Kace and every other man on this planet.

  Momma’s smile fades before she continues. “Then, after several years of keeping in touch and shortly after we graduated from high school, I stopped hearing from Papa. I didn’t know what was going on, and I was afraid that something bad had happened. I was devastated.” Papa’s face drops in response to Momma’s painful admission. “My family was protective of me and didn’t know that Papa and I kept in touch all those years and that we were best friends. I didn’t know who to turn to for help. So, I continued reaching out to Papa every week, hoping he would get back to me. It wasn’t until my twenty-fifth birthday that I finally reconnected with Papa.”

  I look over and watch a smirk forming on Papa’s face as Momma describes their reunion.

  According to Momma, her family lived in a beautiful mansion perched on the side of a forested hillside. Thousands of acres of land surrounded the house. From the grand balcony off of her bedroom, Momma had a clear view of the valley below. She described the scene as something you would find in National Geographic. Lush forest, with a clear river snaking its way down through the valley and alongside a small town far in the distance. At night Momma would go out onto the balcony and look at the town lights in the distance, which seemed to be as far away as the stars in the sky.

  On the evening in question, Momma was outside escaping another social gathering, or ball as her parents called it. “I was so tired of meeting all of these Royal pains-in-my-ass at these events,” she admits. “They were a bunch of fake, superficial, pompous ass-kissers. I would always look for the earliest opportunity to sneak off to my balcony and avoid the partygoers. Especially on this night, my twenty-fifth birthday. The night when I was supposed to find my husband—my mate.”

  I have so many questions already brewing in my head. Why did I agree to wait to ask? I think I’m going to burst.

  “I was enjoying my privacy when I was startled by someone clearing their throat behind me,” Momma continues while glaring in Papa’s direction. He still just stands there with a small smirk on his face as Momma continues. “So, without turning to face my uninvited guest, I cut him off saying I didn’t know or care who they were or how they got up here, but that they are on a private balcony and I would really appreciate it if they left me alone. And then I heard a sigh, followed by a voice I could never forget. ‘I’m so sorry Tiger’—the first words I heard from Papa in years.”

  Papa’s smirk disappears, as his expression drops to one of sadness.

  “I turned and couldn’t believe he was actually there,” Momma continues. “On my balcony. Looking sexy as hell in a suit that looked like it was custom-tailored to show off Papa’s amazing, manly body. So, naturally, I ran over, threw my arms around him and kissed him like my life depended on it.”

  “I didn’t know what to expect, but I was not expecting that,” Papa says with a big smile on his face. “Unfortunately, your Momma’s inability to keep her slaps to herself interrupted my make-out session and attempted apology.” He raises an accusing eyebrow at Momma.

  “Yeah, well, I was pissed,” she replies casually. “You had no idea what you put me through. I thought the worst. I thought you died or that you never really cared about me at all. I thought we were best friends! I...I thought we were more than that. But your disappearance made me think you clearly didn’t feel the same or you wouldn’t have hurt me like that. All those years without a single word from you.”

  Pain is etched on their faces as they recall how they felt during this emotional reunion.

  “It was then and there, with a soft wind caressing our bodies and the moonlight highlighting the tears threatening to fall from our eyes that Papa finally admitted his love for me,” Momma says with a single tear falling from her eye.

  Young Papa had then explained to young Momma that she meant the world to him and that he couldn’t come to see her until it was safe. Of course, Momma wanted to know what that meant, but Papa wanted to enjoy their night together first. Momma agreed and then commented on how Papa kept his hair the way she liked it.

  “So, I told him we should get back to the part where he said he loves me,” Momma says, wiggling her eyebrows.

  “I told Momma I would show her instead. I grabbed Momma and we-”

  “Ah, okay, I think we can skip the next part,” I cut in as I stick my index fingers into my ears. “Thank you very much.”

  “But that’s my favourite part,” Papa says, and he and Momma laugh.

  “No. Nope. Uh-uh. Noooo, thank you.” I glare at them, and they continue to laugh.

  “Well, let’s just say that we created you when we shared our first time that night,” Momma continues, completely disregarding my pleas. “Or maybe it was the second, third, or fourth round that night.”

  “Oh, for fudge sakes.” I glare at my over-sharing parents. “Kill. Me. Now.” I roll my eyes dramatically. “Okay, okay, I get it. Good times were had by all. Can we please move on with the story now?”

  They chuckle and nod in agreement, getting way too much pleasure from my torture.

  “Papa and I spent the next few weeks sneaking around,” Momma continues. “We knew my parents would be livid if they found out about us being friends, let alone lovers. So, at night Shasta would sneak up to my private balcony after everyone had gone to sleep. Then he would sneak off to a cabin in the woods at the far end of our property in the morning before everyone got up and I would sneak over to visit during the day.”

  Momma explained that the cabin used to be for the hunters that would keep the wild game in check, but in the previous few years it had only been used once in a while—usually when her father would have special hunting events with family, friends, and business partners. That’s how they ended up getting caught. Momma and Papa were having so much fun together that the hours, days, and weeks started blending together.

  “One day, we were in the cabin, practising some couple’s yoga, if you know what I mean,” Momma says, reaching over and squeezing my ankle.

  “Oh, for fudge sakes.” I groan. “I swear, if I have to tell you one more time to keep it rated ‘G’, I’m just going to walk right out of here.” I shake my head as my parent’s chuckle at my expense… again.

  “Anyhow, suddenly the front door opened, and my father walked in with some business partners,” she says with a grimace. “Everyone in that room turned fifty shades of red before my father let out the loudest, most terrifying growl I’ve heard in my life.”

  “I thought I was a goner!” Papa exclaimed and, for the first time in my life, I see fear in his eyes. “There he was, Tigers father with a group of men, all holding hunting rifles while I was holding my man gun. I mean, I’m packing but-.”

  “Seriously, you guys are killing me right now,” I say as I shake my head with a flat expression on my face. “No more talk about your ‘man gun’, ‘couple’s yoga’, or how I was created, thank you very much. And yes, I see those evil smiles right now.” I wag my index finger between them.

  “What Papa is trying to say is that our lives flashed before our eyes,” Momma continued. “I immediately threw up, which coincidentally may have been what saved our lives. That gave us enough time to quickly throw on our clothes as my father commanded the other men to wait outside. The look on his face was like nothing I had ever seen before. It was a strange combination of rage, disappointment, and indifference. His eyes turned the most vibrant green I have ever seen.” She pauses and shivers.

  “I still have nightmares about that day. I knew Mommas’ father was not a man to be messed with, and at this moment I could see exactly why.” He nods slowly as his eyes glaze over.

  I have to admit, their story has me curious to k
now more about Momma’s family. As far as I know, they don’t have a single picture of these terrifying, prejudiced, racist aristocrats.

  “Suddenly my father calmly said one sentence, the last sentence he ever spoke to me.” Sadness briefly flashes in Momma’s eyes and Papa grabs her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You have ten seconds to choose to either never speak to this man again or never speak to your family again.” My parents pause for a second, both taking deep breaths. “My heart broke, but I knew the decision was an easy one. I would rather spend the rest of my life with a man who loved me more than life itself, than with a family that could so easily throw me away—like a piece of trash. So, I went to my room, packed up some clothes and away we went. To start our new adventure. Together.”

  They look at each other as warm smiles replace all previous signs of sadness. The look in their eyes tells me they have no regrets with their decision. They left for this—for the love they see when they look into each other’s eyes. Who could blame them for making that choice?

  They explained that they left Momma’s house and took the next flight to Canada, where they then travelled many, many miles and many, many days until they got to this “perfect little town”. A town where no one knew them. A town where they could start over. A town where they could raise our family in peace, surrounded by nature, and filled with happiness and love.

  They found this house, our house, and the owners were looking for some help around the house and the grounds. In exchange, they were offered accommodation in the pool house for free.

  “This place was perfect; how could we resist?” Papa shrugs as Momma nods. “Over time, the owners came to think of us as their own family. They even trained us to take over their wine business and the small farm. They didn’t have family of their own, so when they passed away, they left everything to us.”

  “You mean Nana and Pops?” I ask, remembering the sweet old couple I used to play with when I was little.

  “Yes, I didn’t think you would remember them,” Papa replies, quirking his brow.

  “Of course I do!” I smile and clasp my hands in front of my chest. “They would give me candy every time you weren’t home! Um, I mean fruit. Healthy fruit.” We all chuckle.

  “Well, that explains a lot,” says Momma. “They loved you so very much, Kitten. They were wonderful people. It’s amazing how someone who is not related to you can make you feel more loved than those who are. Papa and I miss them every day.”

  Papa nods. “Anyhow, that is the story of how we got here.”

  I sit there thinking for a minute, processing their story. “I really appreciate you telling me the whole story about how we got here,” I finally say. “But nothing in that story helped me understand what is going on with me now.”

  “That is the part we are getting to,” Papa replies. “Do you remember what I said to you yesterday?”

  I shrug and then nod before replying. “Percy and Momma are cats. You, Bel, Kace, and Jay are dogs. And I’m going to grow another head.”

  Papa rolls his eyes and Momma’s eyes look like they are about to pop out of her head before she laughs.

  “Now do you see what I am working with here, Tiger?” Papa says, turning to Momma and shaking his head.

  “Well, she wasn’t completely wrong I guess,” Momma replies with a gallic shrug.

  “Anyhow.” Papa rolls his eyes. “It’s more complicated than that. Are you ready?”

  I nod, feeling a mixture of emotions; I’m excited, curious, and eager to hear what they’re about to tell me.

  NINE

  Papa grabs my comfy, red lounging chair from the corner of my room and pulls it closer to the bed. He sits and leans forward, placing his elbows on his thighs and resting his chin on his fists. He looks at me for a few unnerving moments before he finally speaks.

  “I’ll give you the simplified version and then you can ask questions after.” He waits for me to nod before he continues. “We aren’t just dogs and cats, as you so eloquently put it.”

  I can’t help but smile at his annoyance with my generalisation. I’ve always loved getting under Papa’s skin, although my teasing rarely goes unreciprocated. It’s perhaps an unusual father-daughter bond, but it works for us and has undoubtedly helped strengthen our already close relationship.

  “All animals and humans are connected in a very intimate way,” he continues, occasionally tensing the muscles around his eyes as he observes my reaction to his words. “Every single human has an inner animal spirit and vice versa. When the animal spirit is stronger than the human spirit, the animal will take control. When the human spirit is stronger than the animal spirit, the human takes control.”

  “Think of it as a continuum where the far-left end is the animal spirit, the far-right end is the human spirit, and the middle is a perfect balance between the two,” Momma contributes and Papa nods in agreement. “If you are not near the middle, or spiritually balanced, then you will only take the form of whichever spirit has more power.”

  “So, someone with a strong animal spirit will always be in that animal form. These are the animals you see in the world.” Papa waves his hand towards the two large framed pictures in my room. One is of a pair of beautiful white wolves standing in a forest with the sun in the background trying to force its way through the darkness, trees, and fog. The other is a beautiful black panther whose striking eyes bore deep into your soul and body fades into the black background. The animals in both pictures appear to be looking at you no matter where you walk in the room—like they’re always watching you. I’ve always felt inexplicably connected to these pictures. They make me feel safe. Comfortable.

  “Someone with a strong human spirit will always be in human form,” Papa continues. “These humans and animals live their lives completely unaware of their inner counterpart. For those who are balanced, or very close to being balanced, we’re aware of both of our spirits and can shift between them.”

  Okay? I don’t know what my parents have been smoking, but they really seem to believe what they’re saying right now. Curious.

  “That means we can shift between our physical human and animal forms and abilities whenever we want or need to,” Momma says and smiles proudly. Papa faces Mama and smiles back, sharing another moment together. I have so many thoughts swirling in my head as my parents gawk at each other.

  So, what they are saying is that they can shift into animals? What do they look like? Have I seen their animals? How could they hide something like that? Can I shift? What would I shift into?

  Papa clears his throat as they direct their attention towards me again, pulling me out of my swirling thoughts. “There are some spiritually balanced individuals, or shifters as they’re commonly called, that are slightly more balanced than others—these shifters are called Royals. But all shifters can control their shifting, some just have to work at it harder than others. The biggest struggle is during intense emotional situations—situations where the raw primal nature of our animal spirit tries to break through to the surface. Another challenge is a full moon because the moon has a strong yet subtle impact on our emotions and can cause weaker shifters to shift and let our primal animal natures come out and take control.”

  “Is that why you’ve always taught me to accept and feel my emotions but to keep them controlled?” I blurt out, breaking their rule about asking questions at the end.

  I can’t even recall any situations where my parents were excessively emotional. They aren’t emotionless, but they always seemed to express emotions without getting to the point of having an emotional breakdown. I don’t even remember them ever yelling about anything. Anytime they seemed to get overly emotional, they would just “go for a run”.

  Momma and Papa smile at me and nod.

  “All Royals go through intensive emotional intelligence training and all other shifters are supposed to do a minimum level of training as well; however, that isn’t always the case.” Papa pauses and clenches his jaw. “Humans fear the u
nknown and would view our ability to shift into large animals as a threat. We all know how humans treat things they fear. It’s vital to our survival that we keep our existence a secret and therefore control our inner animals.”

  “That brings us to another important point, we can only successfully breed with those of our own kind,” Momma cuts in as she squeezes Papa’s forearm, a simple action yet effective in relaxing him. “Strong human spirits with strong human spirits, strong animal spirits with strong animal spirits, shifters with shifters, and Royals with Royals.” She pauses for a moment as to let my brain catch up with everything they have said. I nod, and she continues. “Now, the reason you are so special is because shifters have only ever been able to breed with other shifters with the same or similar kind of animal spirit.”

  “You’re a vet, so it should make sense if you think of it like hybrid animals, such as Canids who breed with other Canids,” Papa says as he smiles softly. I appreciate their ability to relate things back to what I know because this conversation has me thinking I don’t know anything anymore. Papa continues, “For example, two different breeds of dogs or a dog and a wolf. Whereas, you don’t see a dog mating with a cougar.”

  “Except at ladies’ night at the strip club,” Momma says and bursts into laughter at her joke.

  “Buh dum ching,” I say as I pretend to play the drums. Momma and I continue to laugh. Momma lets a little snort out, which just causes us to laugh even harder. Papa just rolls his eyes at us—probably questioning why he was blessed with such amazing women in his life.

  “Anyway,” Papa finally interjects with a grin. “That’s why you are so special. You’re the first hybrid between shifters with different animal spirits. The only shifter hybrids that normally happen are those of similar species, like dogs and wolves as I mentioned before. There are many wolf-dog hybrids out there; in fact, it is rare to find any shifters who are pure wolf.” My parents briefly share a knowing glance at each other. “Your unique situation may have something to do with us, your parents. Because we come from the strongest and most balanced shifter lines; we are from the top Royal families, and my family comes from one of the original shifter families, called Primes.”