Frances could not argue; her brother does know how to make a delicious meal. Both she and her life partner Samantha eagerly devour the salmon Samson just cooked. Being were-cats; Frances and Samantha found the smell and taste of fish nearly irresistible. Samson chuckling as the two nearly had to restrain themselves from grabbing the fish with their paws and shoving into their muzzles after they ate the pan fried potatoes and steamed cauliflower.
“Well its clear you two were hungry,” Samson smiling; “you want some dessert or are you going back to bed for that?”
“You cad,” Samantha rolling her eyes; “what your sister and I do upstairs is private and none of your business.”
“Is that a cheese cake I smell brother,” Frances sniffing the air; “cherry cheesecake?”
Samson smiles as he takes it out of the fridge; “sinfully delicious and extremely fatty.”
“I suppose,” Frances licking her lips; “one slice will do for dessert.”
“Yes,” Samson chuckling as he places the dessert on the table; careful not to damage it with his large Alaskan- malamute like paws. “The question is though,” Samson starting to slice the cake; “do you want a big slice or a little slice?”
After slicing the cake and giving each were-cat a nice large portion to consume; Samson grabs the coffee and fills their cups up as well as his, sitting down to watch his sister and her life partner eat dessert; Frances begins to discuss her previous day. Starting off with Melissa Stovall in her office talking with her about Julie’s trouble with the Elder Council; Frances sighs as she reluctantly is forced to break doctor patient confidentiality by telling them that, Melissa Stovall has been visiting her as both a patient and a friend. Telling them of having to take her to the hospital after finding out of Julie’s escape which involved murdering a staff member of the council building.
While Samson found all this fascinating; not because it was his sister telling a story, but because he was with Douglas Cooper and the rest of the weres on the police force pointing weapons loaded with silver ammunition at a pack of pissed of wolves from the Luna brother hood. Samson continued to listen as Frances told them both how she managed to have the first civil conversation with her father Joseph Carter since before her first transformation as a were-cat.
“You and dad were in the same room,” Samson looking shocked; “and neither wanted to rip each other’s eyes out?”
“We were in mother’s hospital room,” Frances answering; “she was still unconscious but we also had a big guard nearby to ensure the both of us didn’t flex claws and bare teeth.”
“How is mother,” Samson asking; “is she fine?”
“She woke up this morning,” Frances answering; “Angelica asked for you brother.”
“So what did you and Joseph talk about,” Samantha getting involved in the conversation; “and why didn’t you call me?”
“First off,” Frances putting her fork down; “I didn’t call you because of the were-alert. I knew you had to deal with a thousand and one issues stemming from it. Me calling because I’m at a hospital with a patient and visiting mother wasn’t going to help fix your stressful day.”
“Fair enough,” Samantha answering; “now what did you talk about.”
“Small stuff mostly,” Frances taking a sip of coffee; “the usual banter one engages in when you are trying to defuse a tense situation.”
“So you talked about the weather,” Samson snorting; drinking his coffee.
“That and other matters,” Frances continuing; “he asked about Ben. That took me back a bit. I never told him Samantha and I adopted him.”
“I told mother,” Samson speaking; “remember she wanted me to look out for you. Mother must of told dad at some point.”
“Okay,” Frances sighing at her brother’s response; “so I told dad that Ben is a naturally born werewolf. His parents died in an accident, decent grades and that he has friends.”
“Ben’s sexual orientation,” Samantha bristling; known full well that Joseph was a homophobe.
“I did not tell dad that,” Frances speaking; “in fact I made it clear that who Ben sees and dates, is none of his business and not his concern.”
“Did you bring up the prospect of the family getting together for Christmas dinner,” Samson chiming in.
“I did,” Frances pausing; “his answer, ‘It will take more than a turkey and dinner rolls for us to be a family, and I’m not talking about stuffing, gravy and the usual fixings’.”
“So there won’t be a family get together then,” Samson looking forlorn.
“Not while mom is in the hospital,” Frances answering; “she is still recovering from her hysterectomy and they placed her in a secured ward due to her suicide attempt with her morphine drip.”
“But if you and dad are talking finally,” Samson thinks; “then perhaps the three of us could get together?”
Frances just shrugs her shoulders at Samson’s last comment; with still more to discuss regarding their father, she was unable to get to the part where the bearded man breaks down crying. Afraid of losing his wife and regretting kicking her out when Frances became a were-cat; realizing that it was wrong just because of some words written in a book. Frances was about to bring that up when both Ben and his boyfriend Alex walk into the door.
“Moms,” Ben shouting; “I’m home from school. Are you up?”