Thirty Nights with the Alpha King

Chapter 4: Dinner with the Oureys

I slowly make my way back into the house, meandering into the living room to sit on the sofa. As I curl up with the knitted blanket hanging on the armrest, I remember the way Nick’s strong arms set me down onto this same spot just last night. I recall the feeling of being held tightly against his broad, warm chest as he carried me inside, the memory comforting me as I drift off to sleep.

When I open my eyes again, the light is streaming in from the windows, appearing to be late afternoon.

How long was I out for? Did I sleep all day?

A movement from the kitchen catches my eye, and I try to get my unfocused vision to correct itself. It takes a few moments, but I finally make out my grandmother moving about in the kitchen. I can hear her working with pots and pans, and I hear the sizzle of food cooking.

I hear the door from the kitchen open and the sound of boots on hardwood floor.

“Smells good, Winona,” I hear my grandfather say. I inhale deeply, but, much to my frustration, I can’t smell anything.

Although my entire body aches, I manage to gingerly get up from the couch, shuffling forward toward the sound of my grandparents speaking quietly in the kitchen.

“Addy!” my grandmother beams as I appear in the archway. “Oh, good, you’re up!”

“Good afternoon,” my grandfather winks at me. “Sleep well?”

“What time is it?” I yawn.

“Dinnertime,” he replies.

“Just wash your hands at the kitchen sink, my dear,” says my grandmother, gesturing toward the sink with her head. “Food will be ready in about five minutes.”

“I guess I was out all day,” I murmur, feeling a little dazed and confused at the loss of an entire day gone by.

Just another twenty-four hours until you see Nick again…

I try to fight back a smile at the idea of seeing him, and I’m glad my back is turned away from my grandparents as I wash my hands.

A foul odor of stale cigarette smoke hits my nose as I pump the soap into my hands. I wrinkle my face in disgust, but finish up and join my grandfather at the table.

“What’s the matter, Addy?” he asks, seeing the expression on my face.

“Nothing,” I say, waving my hand dismissively. “I’m getting my sense of smell back, but only for cleaning products and chemicals. But they smell completely wrong, like stale cigarette smoke with a touch of rotten fruit.”

“Ah, yeah, I heard the virus can cause nerve damage,” my grandmother nods in recognition, fluffing a pot of mashed potatoes with a fork. “Like there’s a switchboard operator in your brain putting the phone plug into the wrong jack.”

“Yeah, something like that,” I say with a small smile. I have no doubt that my grandmother has spent a lot of time in front of the computer researching my symptoms, and it’s because she cares so much about me.

She serves up steak and potatoes for dinner, my absolute favorite meal of hers. I’m thankful that I still have my sense of taste as I dig in heartily, since I haven’t eaten since last night.

Later, as I lie awake in my bed, I’m finding it difficult to drift off to sleep. Not only because I’ve slept the entire day, but because I’m trying to imagine how dinner will go with Nick and his family. Admittedly, I’m nervous at the idea of having so many people in my grandparents’ small kitchen. I haven’t been in a gathering of more than a couple of people since before the pandemic started over a year ago. However, the idea of seeing Nick again to smooth things over from our previous conversation only adds to my anxiety. What am I going to say when I see him next? Should I apologize? Or should I act as though nothing happened?

***

I’m just finishing the final touches on my makeup when I hear voices floating up from downstairs. As much as I wanted to throw my hair into a messy bun again and forego any makeup, I managed to muster up enough effort to put some thought into my appearance for tonight.

It feels weird putting on foundation and eye shadow. I can probably count on one hand the number of times I’ve put on makeup in the past year, and it was only for the occasional Zoom call. Normally, I would be going all-out on contouring and highlighting, completing my look with false eyelashes and lip plumper like all the girls from LA do. However, it feels so over-the-top when I’ve become accustomed to seeing my natural face every day, and even the neutral lip gloss and eyeshadow feels like too much. I completely skip eyeliner and just finish the look with mascara.

After switching off my curling iron, I run my fingers through my hair to separate my beachy waves. As my hands work through my locks, I start to feel the onset of fatigue seep into my body. Why did I use up all my energy for the day to do my hair and makeup? How am I supposed make it through this dinner?

“Oh, well. At least I’ll look cute, right?” I mutter into the vanity mirror.

I throw on the blue cotton knit dress I picked out earlier and a pair of sandals before I make my way downstairs. As I get closer, the cacophony of excited voices grows louder and louder, making me sigh internally. Just a couple of hours and I can go back to bed, right?

You can do this, Addy! I give myself another internal pep talk before stepping into the kitchen.

“ADDY!” I hear a young girl’s voice call out. Before I can identify the source of the squealing, I feel small arms wrap themselves around me, practically knocking me off my feet.

“Tallulah, leave her alone,” I hear a warm, familiar voice say behind me. I turn my head to see Nick smiling apologetically at me. “Sorry about her.”

“Addy, I’ve missed you!” Tallulah exclaims, staring up at me with big, brown eyes. She looks so much like her older brother, with dark raven hair and soft, honey cheeks that are grinning excitedly.

“My, you’ve certainly grown!” I exclaim. She was the youngest Ourey sibling the last time I was here at the ranch, but there were only four of them then. Nick, Matt, Aiyana, and Tallulah.

A young boy, who couldn’t be any older than five, is giggling and running after twin toddler boys around the kitchen table.

“That’s Ben, chasing after Josiah and Jeremy,” explains Nick in my ear, coming up to stand right behind me. His breath on my neck sends a delicious shiver down my spine, and I wish it were just the two of us right now.

“Mary, you remember Addy, don’t you?” my grandmother says, ushering me further into the kitchen. My thoughts are interrupted as I’m led to an elderly woman sitting at the table.

“Yes, of course I remember Addy,” she says, smiling warmly at me. “Come, sit down!” She pats at the empty place setting next to her, and I am eager to sit down since my knees feel as though they might give out from beneath me. I’m delighted when Nick takes the chair on my other side.

“Winona tells me you’ve been under the weather?” Mrs. Ourey says, her wrinkled face peering out between strands of silvery hair, studying me with a look of concern.

It’s difficult to focus on the conversation with the children screaming in the kitchen. Pots and pans are clanging as my grandmother finishes the cooking, and my grandfather chats with Matt about the work day. Aiyana and Tallulah are chatting loudly about the best way to make flower crowns.

“Um, yeah,” I reply lamely, trying to keep my attention on Mrs. Ourey. Her long, silver braid hangs delicately over her thin shoulder and down across her chest as her aged hands are clasped together on the table. Her brown eyes are sunken into her face, but they gaze upon me with nothing but compassion.

“Ben, please stop running around the table and take a seat with your brothers,” she says, turning her attention to the young boys. “We are guests of Mr. and Mrs. Byrne. Please show respect.”

“Yes, Grandma,” Ben says sweetly, helping his brothers take seats at the table. I’m astonished at their willingness to listen to their matriarch.

“Dinner’s coming right up!” my grandmother pipes in, bringing various dishes of food to the table.

“Aiyana, Tallulah, help Mrs. Byrne bring the food to the table,” says Mrs. Ourey. Her voice is warm, yet firm. They immediately obey and stand up from the table to assist my grandmother.

I feel somewhat disconnected from the bustle around me. A sort of fog seems to envelop my mind as I blink slowly at the commotion happening in the kitchen. My eyes land on Nick, and I blink a couple of times at him as he stares back at me questioningly.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asks under his breath so that only I can hear.

“Mm hmm,” I nod slowly, trying to bring my focus back to the kitchen. But it’s too overwhelming, so I just allow myself to be a bystander to the events around me, rather than be a part of it all.

Once the food is on the table, Mrs. Ourey offers to recite the evening prayer. I feel Nick’s broad hand instantly take mine, and it takes me a moment to realize that we are all joining hands in once large circle around the table. Mrs. Ourey takes my other hand, and hers feels small and fragile compared to Nick’s.

“To Senawahv, the creator of the land, thank you for your blessing of abundant food and the warm company of family and friends. We continue to mourn the loss of my son, Elliott, and his wife Ella, mother of my grandchildren and friend to the Byrnes. May their children here grow into fine, young adults that honor their legacy. And may Senawahv bless Addison here with good health as she begins her journey of recovery. Amen.”

“Amen,” echoes voices around the table.

I feel Nick squeeze my hand tightly, even as the others let go of each other to begin eating their meal. Glancing over at him, I felt my heart break to hear the news of his parents’ death. I remembered his parents very well, and I knew how attached Nick was to them.

“Nick, I’m so sorry,” I whisper to him, trying not to catch anyone’s attention. “I had no idea.”

“It’s okay,” he says, smiling sadly at me. “It happened about three years ago, just after the twins were born.”

I glance around at the small children across from me at the table. Seven children left without parents at far too young an age. Even though I’m not close to my parents, I can’t imagine losing them right now. I don’t feel emotionally equipped to bear the loss of either of them, let alone both.

Nick gives my hand one more comforting squeeze before he releases me, digging into his food as well.

“Nick,” my grandfather says, catching both of our attentions. “I was just talking with Matt here about that dead cow—”

“Bob, do we really need to discuss that at the dinner table?” my grandmother interrupts, giving him an exasperated look.

“This is important, Winona,” he replies emphatically. “Matt says that you took the body to the same spot where you put the last cow that died.”

“Yeah,” said Nick, nodding quickly. “But when we got there, the old carcass had been left completely alone. It hasn’t decomposed or been picked at by coyotes at all.”

“That’s so strange,” my grandfather says, furrowing his brow. “That other cow has been dead for months. You’d think a vulture or coyote or something would at least have scavenged it a bit by now.”

“Agreed,” Nick nods again. “At the very least, the cow should be halfway decomposed. But she’s in the exact state she was when she died.”

“So, Addy!” exclaims Tallulah, pulling my attention away from their conversation. “Do you have any boyfriends out in Los Angeles? Maybe a TV star?”

I can see Nick visibly stiffen beside me and give Tallulah a menacing glare, but he doesn’t say anything.

“No, I don’t have a boyfriend,” I laugh gently.

“Or a girlfriend?” Tallulah prods further.

“Tallulah!” Nick finally scolds her. “Stop bothering Addy with all your questions and mind your own business.”

“But we never get to meet anyone new,” Tallulah complains loudly. “We never get to leave the ranch since we’re homeschooled, so just let me pretend that Addy is my best friend for a minute, okay?”

“We don’t have to pretend,” I smile at Tallulah. “Of course we can be friends.”

“Really?” she asks, her eyes sparkling brightly. “Oh, thank you, Addy!”`

“Maybe we can go to Provo one of these days and go shopping together?” I suggest, but it’s met with Tallulah’s crestfallen face.

“I can’t leave the ranch,” she says quietly.

“Tallulah, eat your dinner,” Nick interrupts, giving her a stern expression. I can’t help but notice that Tallulah is quiet for the rest of the evening.

But I’m too tired to take part in much conversation, and I only half-heartedly listen to the others chatting around me. In fact, I feel my eyelids grow heavy, and by the time dessert is served I decide to close them just for a moment to relieve the pressure building in my head.

“We have an early start tomorrow,” I hear Nick’s voice cut through the fog in my mind. “Let’s get going back to the homestead.”

My eyelids flutter open, and I notice that most of the Oureys are already at the door. My eyes land on Nick, who is the last one out the door, and he throws me one last look before heading outside.

“Thank you,” I mouth silently at him. His lips break into a wide smile, and I feel myself getting lost in those deep, brown eyes once again.

***

Not much later, I’m settled into bed once the sun has set behind the horizon. I fall in and out of sleep, even though I feel completely and utterly exhausted.

Ugh, why can’t I have just one night where I sleep completely through until morning, like a normal person?

As I lie awake, I notice the clock on my bedside table reads 2:47 AM. I close my eyes to try to drift off to sleep when I hear the sound a wolf howling in the distance.

Startled, I sit up quickly, peering out between the curtains beside the bed. However, the sight that awaits me sends a chilling shiver down my spine.

In the distance, where the ridge borders the ranch, the top of the mesa is completely lit up in a teal-colored glow. I have no idea what is causing this phenomenon, but I have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that this is not normal – or natural.