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"So, how do you like your eggs?" Paul asked after Brian and Jim headed downstairs.
I was sitting at the table, looking around. At least now I knew why it had seemed familiar. But my gaze kept returning to Paul.
He looked funny wearing nothing but a maroon apron as he set the bacon on some towels to drain.
"Anything but scrambled," I replied. "If I never have a plateful of runny scrambled eggs facsimile again it'll be too soon."
He laughed and began cracking eggs into the hot bacon grease.
"You were in the military?" he asked.
"Yeah. How did you know?"
"Remember the letters my father wrote my mother when he was in the war," he said as he popped bread into the toaster. "Though from what I've heard things have improved a bit since then."
"Which war did he fight in?" I asked.
"My father and my older brothers fought in the Revolutionary War," he said with a sad smile.
I sat staring at him, mouth agape. I know he and Jim claimed to be over two hundred years old. The look in his eyes was so solemn, I had to believe him.
"But you...?" I began.
"I was too young to be conscripted," he said, splashing the hot grease over the eggs. "Then, I got...hurt," he said with a pained wince. "Rick saved me, much like Jim did you. But there was no going back. Doubt they would have even recognized me."
"Why not?" I asked.
"Well, normally, the change takes about four months after the initial...exchange. During that time, you'll get bigger and stronger. And the first time you change, well, you usually end up looking different."
He slid a plate of fried eggs and toast in front of me.
"Did Brian's mom teach you how to make breakfast?" I asked with a delighted laugh.
I had never seen eggs prepared like that, other than when she made them.
"Afraid I never got to meet Brian's family," he said with a shrug.
I stiffened as a chill went through me.
"Why...why not?" I asked, dreading the answer.
"I only met Brian earlier this year. He lost his family about three years ago."
I sat staring at him, mouth agape.
"All of them?" I whispered, feeling my throat tighten.
"I'm afraid so," he replied. "I guess their vehicle got hit on the way here and went into the river."
I sat staring at my plate.
"Eat," he said and turned back to the kitchen as Brian and Jim came upstairs, laughing.
Brian paused, looking at me with a furrowed brow, then turned to Paul with a raised brow. Paul looked back over his shoulder at him and shrugged. Brian stepped up behind him and ran his hands under Paul's apron. Brian rested his chin on the top of Paul's head.
It was an intimately casual display. It might have been embarrassing to some, but the tenderness spoke of their feelings for one another.
"Mmm," Brian said. "Just the way Mom used make them."
He looked at me and the grief in his eyes cut through me.
"Speaking of which, how's your mom?" he said as he pulled away from Paul.
"She...she passed away last month," I replied softly.
His face looked stricken.
"I'm so sorry," he said as he sat down next to me.
He gripped my shoulder and I...I felt.... Well, I can't really explain how it felt. It was like something touched me. Inside. It left me feeling safe and welcome. And loved.
I looked at him in surprise and his eyes were black as midnight.
"Wha...what...," I began.
"Like Jim said, I'm not your average bear," he said with a smile. "Among other things, I can feel what other people feel. And let them feel what I do. But physical contact makes it clearer. If Keith's any guide, without it, I wouldn't have a connection with you yet...."
Suddenly, he jerked away, looking at me in shock, his eyes snapping back to normal. He turned toward Jim.
Jim returned his stare with a lopsided smile and a shrug.
"Okay...," he said, shaking his head. "Welcome back to 'Bears of Our Lives.'"
Jim gave a bark of laughter as he helped Paul bring the rest of breakfast to the table.
"What are you talking about?" Paul asked.
"I'll tell you later," Brian said as he split a couple of hot biscuits and ladled sausage gravy over the top.
"So what have you been up to the last twenty-five years?" he asked.
"Well, after we left here, Mom moved us back East."
"Did she ever say why you left so suddenly?" he asked uneasily.
"No. I just came home from school and she was packing everything up. She wouldn't tell me anything. All I knew was I was losing my only friend."
Brian actually blushed.
"Surely you had other friends," he said.
"Seriously? Look at me. Those who weren't making fun of me were scared of me," I said softly, looking down at my plate. "You were the only one who treated me like...a human being."
"Oy. Then you had to go and meet him," Paul said, jerking his thumb at Jim.
Jim growled back at him.
"All I knew then was my best friend was gone," Brian said, suddenly somber.
"Well, after I graduated, I joined the Marines. Didn't think I'd really be needed when I enlisted. But after 9/11, served my first of three deployments."
Jim and Paul exchanged sad looks.
"What?" I asked.
"Rick was in the South tower when it came down," Paul said tightly after a long silence.
Brian and Jim both grasp his hands.
"Were you in Afghanistan?" Brian asked, obviously trying to change the subject.
"Twice," I said darkly.
"Are those camel spider things real?" he asked.
I gave a shudder.
"Yeah. They're real. One night I was on patrol and saw one on the grill of a Humvee."
"Are they really that big?" he asked skeptically.
"Unfortunately."
"What did you do?" Jim asked.
"I fixed my bayonet and stabbed it."
"Eww."
"Then the damned thing turned and hissed at me."
"It did not," Paul said with a laugh.
"Swear to God," I said.
I told them about a few of my experiences over there, the few I could bring myself to talk about.
In turn, Brian recounted how he lost his family.
"I sold the house I'd grown up in, but I couldn't bear to sell this place," he said, giving Paul a smile as he rubbed his shoulder. "And I did what I hoped I'd never have to do and took over Dad's business. I redid this place, but then Joe got sick so we never even got a chance to enjoy it. Well, at least not physically."
He smiled and his eyes grew distant.
"What do you mean?" I asked, glancing at Paul.
He was smiling at Brian, a similar look in his eyes.
"We found out Joe had cancer and there was nothing we could do. I didn't know it then, but when he died, I captured his spirit."
I shook my head in confusion.
"You lost me again," I said.
He grinned and closed his eyes. When they opened, there was something odd about them.
"Hello," he said, but his voice was different. "Brian has told me a lot about you."
I rocked back, Jim reaching out to keep me from falling over.
"Wha...what the hell is going on?" I shouted.
"Turns out," Brian said in his normal voice. "I'm a soul keeper. I'm told that I'd typically house the spirits of werebears who have died, though so far, Grandpapa still does."
"Grandpapa?" I asked, looking back and forth among them.
"One of the elders of our kind," Jim said. "He was Rick's papa, so in a way, we're all his...grandchildren."
"Some more than other," Paul chuckled and Brian elbowed him.
"So your...first...husband...is living within you?"
Brian nodded.
"And you're okay with that?" I asked, turning to Paul.
"Of course," Paul replied and Brian leaned against him. "None of us is exactly sexually selfish. Even if Joe was still...solid...I wouldn't mind. I don't mind sharing."
He winked at me.
"But I still think you two should have some time alone," Brian said.
"Oh, we will," Jim said, rubbing his hand along my leg. "I hate to ask, but is your offer to help on my place still open?"
"Of course," Brian said immediately, then glanced guiltily at Paul.
"Of course," Paul echoed with a laugh.
"Well, I hadn't planned on doing it until I had it done, but I need to get my stuff moved and I don't want to wait until it's close to his time. So was thinking if you could see what you can get done while we're gone...?"
"Sure," Brian said eagerly. "Now then, how about we see about getting some fish for supper tonight?"
"Sounds good," Jim said.
"Don't worry. We'll head down to the lake. Maybe even get some fishing done," Paul leered.