Page 134 of Not Looking
He was my omega, and soon would be my mate.
∞∞∞
We announced our engagement to our families over video calls on Saturday while we were snowed in. Everybody was excited, especially Randy’s friend Kerry—who seemed rather smug.
My friends found out on Sunday evening, when the football watch party turned into an impromptu engagement celebration. I hadn’t noticed Aaron disappearing, but we’d barely gotten seated for the game when his doorbell rang with a delivery.
We’d sipped champagne and enjoyed gourmet sandwiches during the first quarter, and a grocery store cake with ‘Happy Engagement’ written on it with shaky handwriting appeared during halftime.
“Sorry,” Aaron had said before explaining that the best he could get on short notice was a blank cake and a tube of writing gel from the baking aisle.
It had been perfect.
Football night had ended with us making plans for me to move into Randy’s cabin. And nearly a week later, we were making it happen.
Spencer, Aaron, and Nate schlepped boxes to trucks. Joey and Robbie took photos of anything I was selling and posted them to the marketplace. My sweet Randy kept going back and forth as he drove things to the thrift shop for donation.
At the same time, Randy’s friend Kerry and his mate Callum, along with Jessie, were making space in one of the spare bedrooms at the cabin so that my stuff had somewhere to go until I could unpack.
An odd sense of closure settled over me as I watched my apartment slowly empty. While I’d need to do final cleaning once things sold, I’d lived there for close to a decade. It was strange to see the entry closet empty rather than filled with an assortment of heavy canvas jackets and hiding my boot dryer.
The chest that held all the tools I used to sharpen my chainsaws was in the truck to go to Randy’s house, while my apartment-sized toolkit was in the pile to be sold. My comfy recliner was waiting for the final load in my omega’s truck—when we’d go to his cabin.
Cheaply-framed photos from various worksites had surrounded the tree-cookie the guys had gifted me the night before my final shift on the mountain. They’d mounted a retired chainsaw blade to it and signed the wood.
My beautiful Randy had already made a space for my memories on one of his walls. It meant more than I could put into words, given that straight wall space was at a premium in a home where two of the outside walls sloped in and doubled as the roof.
My apartment emptied—with only the things listed for sale sorted and left for me to arrange pickup for when they sold.
We checked the straps holding down the loads in both mine and Randy’s trucks, then we headed toward the cabin. He led the way, with me in the middle, and Aaron and the guys in his SUV bringing up the rear.
Things were clearly ready for us, as Randy and I maneuvered our trucks to get the beds close to the door. Jessie’s SUV and Kerry’s car were pulled far up close to the workshop—leaving plenty of room for Aaron to pull in behind them.
We strode in to make plans about the best way to unload, and I was hit with the scent of simmering chile. I grinned and angled myself to see a heavily pregnant Yazmín standing at the stove and stirring a gigantic stockpot.
“Yazzy!” I called out as I strode to embrace her. “I expected you later with the kids.”
She snorted and pointed a wooden spoon at me. “And have mi alfa eating only pizza? No. You work, you eat.”
I took a deep breath, and my stomach promptly growled. “It smells amazing. What are you making?”
“Posole.”
“Oh my God,” Joey said from near the front door. “Did I hear posole? Is that what smells so damn good?”
“Si,” Yazmín replied, leaning slightly to address him.
There was a beat of silence, then Joey came up behind me. “Hi, I’m Joey, and now I’m your cooking minion. You get off your feet and tell me what to do.”
I laughed. “Joey, this is Randy’s sister-in-law, Yazmín. But she goes by Yazzy.”
Joey rounded me and stuck out a hand, which Yazmín shook. “Nice to meet you. Now, I’m serious. You look about ready to pop, so tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”
Yazmín studied him for several seconds, then nodded with a grin. “Ok. Radishes and cabbage are in the fridge. You wash, and I will show you how to prepare.”
Joey nodded. “On it. And I’ll stir the pot on the way to the fridge.”
She hesitated for several seconds before relinquishing her wooden spoon. “Be careful not to splash. Stir from the bottom up, but do not scrape.”
