Peter was the first to wake up; yawning as the were-lion opens his eyes in the dark room. Dark for a normal person to need to switch on the lights; but for a were-lion or any were based animal capable in seeing in low light levels, Peter could see fine. Looking around he sees the same décor, the same furniture, medical equipment and his father; still asleep in the same chair as earlier. However the one thing that was different was the feeling in his groin. The lack of discomfort that has been irritating him since he first woke up after emergency surgery for being shot last Friday evening. Lifting the blanket, Peter could see the bare patch of skin, where surgery was performed; the fur growing back in and the temporary surgical staples now starting to fall out. But what made Peter roar in joy was the catheter that was put in him was finally removed.
“Guess this means I’ll be going home soon,” Peter smiles; his voice waking his father up.
“Something wrong,” Leon just opening his eyes.
“No more catheter up my junk,” Peter growling; “it must have gotten removed last night.”
“Soon you’ll be on solid food instead of an i.v drip and broth,” Leon smiling; “any requests?”
“Yeah,” Peter wincing; “help me up so I can use the bathroom.”
*******
After a late night and few hours sleep, Evan was helping his wife Maggie as she got herself ready to leave the hospital. After giving birth Friday to their second child, a son; Maggie was looking forward to sleeping in her bed she shared with her werewolf husband. Letting her newborn son finish suckling on her furry breast; Maggie gently hands the infant to Evan who joyfully cradles the child while she defurs for the first time in over forty eight hours.
“Is the nursery ready,” Maggie getting dressed; “you and Mike finished with the painting?”
“It’s done,” Evan rocking his son to sleep; “I just hope I’ll have the time to be around in the next few days.”
“Why,” Maggie looking at Evan; “what’s happened?”
Evan sighs as he explains to Maggie what has happened since see was convalescing in the hospital. Informing her about a criminal from San Francisco coming to town to get his son out of jail; that son being the man who shot Peter Talbot. While the criminal wasn’t the main threat, it was his bodyguard; a former Spetsnaz by the name of Chelnik. A man, Evan might have ran into years ago back when he was a Navy Seal running black ops mission in the former Yugoslavia nation.
“A were-alert has been issued,” Evan handing the baby back to Maggie; “and coded messages have been issued to inform everyone; no shifting during the Labor Day picnic.”
“Anything else,” Maggie watching Evan collecting the overnight bag.
“Last night,” Evan looking depressed; “a few of Frederick Parker’s men decided to break into the Knight Estate. Of the four of them; three are dead. Spencer, Frieda and Eric were babysitting some were-tiger cubs when it happened.”
“Is our daughter alright,” Maggie raising her voice causing the baby she was holding to wake and cry.
“Spencer is fine,” Evan answer; doing his best to be quiet while Maggie soothes the newborn baby back to sleep. “I taught our daughter how to defend herself,” Evan continuing; “she did kill one of the men, but so did Eric Anderson. From what I heard, the kid was taking it hard.”
“I want our daughter home,” Maggie speaking; “I want to hear all this from her and to make sure she is safe.”
“I’ll call her,” Evan sighing as he opens the door so they can leave; “do we need to sign out or anything before we go home?”
*******
In another room on the maternity ward, Martin Stovall was placing a few items he picked up onto his wife’s tray table as she still slept. Pulling open the blinds to let in the morning light, the former mayor, now a self-employed financial consultant sat in a nearby chair and was reading the Sunday edition of the Gazette. Seeing that the paper has not been slacking in the reporting the recent events, Martin quickly read up on the news of Peter being shot and a known mobster hanging around town.
“Glad I resigned when I did,” Martin muses as he turns the page to see the Gazette’s coded message for Monday’s Labor Day picinic.
‘With recent reports of a major storm from approaching from the Pacific coast, all residents are advised to wear appropriate clothing so as not to get soaked. For more information, tune into KPXX or KMCL for further information.’
“Dam Samantha,” Martin picking up on what that message meant; “and right before the election campaign as well.”
As Martin continued to read the paper, an ideal came to his head in a way to spin this in Samantha’s advantage. As her campaign manager, he could advise her to arraign a makeup picnic to take place after this Parker business has been dealt with. Grabbing his phone and sending out a quick text to meet up with Samantha to discuss his ideal; Martin puts down the paper to see Melissa beginning to stir.
“I brought over some breakfast,” Martin observing his wife sitting up in bed; “it’s mostly pastries and muffins from café Luna. No coffee, as you’ve elected to breast feed our newborn babies, but I did pick up fresh juice.”
“Croissants, danishes and a bearclaw,” Melissa looking at Martin.
“The bear claw is mine,” Martin getting up to claim the pastry.
“Not exactly a healthy way to start the day,” Melissa choosing the croissant; “but the strawberry kiwi juice is nice.”
Breakfast, such as it was went by quietly as Melissa read the same newspaper Martin was looking at earlier. Just as they were finishing eating, a nurse comes by with the couples newborn children; fraternal twins, Joshua and Dawn. With Martin’s assistance, the nurse hands the two hungry infants to their mother, each eager to be fed as she bares her breasts and feels a gentle tugging as both infants eagerly latch on and start suckling.
“I should pick up a breast pump,” Martin watching Melissa feed their children; “that way I can help you feed our children with a baby bottle.”
“Pick one up later today,” Melissa answering; “it will help. But I do find the feeling of both breasts being milked oddly satisfying.”
“Late night feedings and diaper changes,” Martin chuckling; “it’s been a long time since we had to do those.”
“I’m sure you remember how to change a diaper,” Melissa answering; “you did it when Julie was an infant.”
Martin sighs. His daughter Julie is currently in a special prison for weres. Her crime was two counts of statue 1A violations. Facing a one hundred fifty year sentence for trying to unsuccessfully turn Eric Anderson into a wer-mer; it was one of the reasons why Martin had to resign as mayor. The actions his daughter committed ensured he would not win should he seek another term; but it was being asked to replace Andrew Curtis, who wanted to retire as the were-mer rep for the council, that made him resign as mayor. Martin could not hold both positions for it would be viewed as a conflict of interest.
“That was long ago,” Martin looking at his newborn son and daughter as they let go of Melissa’s breasts; taking his new daughter Dawn so Melissa could cover herself back up, Martin looks at the baby in his arms yawning as she falls back to sleep. “Let’s not make the same mistakes with these two as we did with Julie,” Martin watching Dawn sleep in his arms.