Breakfast in Bed
Part 2: When you're not the only monster in your marriage.
Zara
Why was it so hard to accept that my husband is exactly what I am. It was just a week ago, I saw him in his true form. Sharp teeth, claws, fur, blood dripping from his lips. I’ve seen myself the same way many times, but not my sweet innocent husband. Those gentle eyes I’ve always known and loved being red with blood lust was so surreal to me.
“You wanna run together tomorrow? It’ll be our first full moon together,” Jeff said, turning to me.
We were in bed, cuddled up watching TV. We were having human breakfast. Jeff made me pancakes. He brought those, a hot steamy cup of coffee and a bowl of fruit to me in bed. We ate pancakes in bed while a Netflix reality show played in the background, so normal I almost forgot about the body he’d dragged across my dining room rug the week before.
I ate it, of course, I couldn’t just waste food. But still! Finding out you’re not the only animalistic shapeshifting kinda murderer in your marriage is a pretty major.
“Do you think we’re ready for that? It’s kind of a big deal.”
“We’re married. Isn’t that the biggest deal?”
He had me there. I guess I didn’t need to run with my pack. I always felt like an outsider there anyway. Constantly trying to keep up with speed, appearances and rules. It was… exhausting. Running with your pack was supposed to be a rejuvenating activity but it felt like high school all over again. I always needed another night or two on my own to recover.
So why was I so apprehensive with Jeff?
Was I afraid of being exposed and vulnerable, for him to see me in my true form? Which was much hairier than I normally was! I think any other woman would be freaking out at least a little bit. My human form was very put together, very polished, very much Sports Illustrated, so thinking of Jeff seeing me as a giant archaic dog was freaking me out.
Other wolves wouldn’t understand. They might even say this is a pretty vain concern and to that I say “okay and?” This was supposed to be the answer to my prayers. My soulmate in every way but I needed more time. I wonder if I can take myself to a groomer and get a cute cut without the staff freaking out or me eating them all alive.
I stall.
“Wait. Who do you normally run with?”
“No one.”
“But … How is that possible? Don’t you have a pack?”
“I don’t. I’m free.”
I couldn’t wrap my brain around this. How did he survive alone so long without one?
“But how?”
Jeff laughed. He looked over at me and met my eyes while feeding me a piece of bacon.
“A lot of these ‘wolves tales’ are just made to keep us in line and accounted for. On the grid. Let the ones in charge know who and what type of wolves they have in their cities and who they can blame for their gruesome crimes.”
“Are you serious?”
“Very. I’ve survived on my own just fine. No ball and chain around my foot. I’m not getting in trouble for being late to class at Monster High. The moon only has us for 3 nights a month. That’s only 36 out of 365 days. Why not enjoy that break from humanity?
Running free, powerful, a slave to no one.”
“Except our animalistic urges….” I mumble.
“Why are you ashamed of that?”
God. I wasn’t prepared for Jeff to be a super woke wolf. I was still very much trying to grapple with my primal urges while in my wolf form. My post full moon routine consisted of deep cleaning, mediation, shaving and a full wax to rid myself and my home of what I’ve just been. But Jeff? I guess he reveled in it.
He wanted an answer. I could tell by the look in his eyes. Soft and longing. I could tell he wanted to share this experience with me but would he still think I’m pretty when he saw my teeth and claws though?! I was running out of food to stuff in my mouth to avoid answering his question.
“It’s okay if you’re not ready. I know sharing this is pretty new and you have your own pack,” he says retreating from the bed sheets.
Think quick Zara, think quick. I don’t want to alienate Jeff, especially since this is my third husband and I couldn’t just have him for dinner instead of having this conversation.
“Yes my pack, I couldn’t just disappear on them. I would have to tell them first.”
“You can’t tell anyone about me Zara, not wolf me. I would be targeted immediately.”
“More reason to be careful and keep up appearances.”
Jeff lingered at the doorway.
“You know,” he said, “you spend a lot of time asking permission for a body that’s already yours.”
I got out of bed myself and told Jeff I would stay in and clean up my office a bit while he went to the gym. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and seriously contemplated: How can I be a sexier and less scary werewolf? I didn’t want the monster inside me to be the reason my husband found me less desirable.
I glanced at the half-used jar of deep conditioner in the shower, then back at my reflection. The thought that followed was ridiculous. Or was it? People condition their dogs all the time. What if I just… conditioned myself?
I got dressed and drove to the beauty supply store before I could talk myself out of it.
I walked the aisles grabbing everything that might help soften the reveal: Mane ’n Tail for shine, deep conditioners for moisture, detanglers for manageability. I briefly considered that maybe Jeff would accept me exactly as I was. Then I remembered men don’t even accept women with hairy armpits. I added another tub to my basket and headed to the register.
Back home, the energy was already changing and I was on edge.
“I don’t know if I’ll be attracted to you as a werewolf,” Jeff said carefully. “What kind of monster do you turn into?”
“Monster?”
“I mean…wolf. I just meant…”
“Oh, so now I’m a dog.”
He sighed. “That’s not what I said.”
“But it’s what you meant.”
The words came out sharper than I intended. I could feel the shift already, heat crawling under my skin.
Jeff held up his hands. “I’m trying to understand you.”
I turned away. Understanding felt too close to being seen and I wasn’t ready, not yet.
I dumped the bags onto the bathroom counter. Five tubs of deep conditioner stared back at me. I regretted not choosing a sexier scent, apple cinnamon didn’t exactly scream seductive transformation.
I got undressed and began my ritual.
Exfoliate. Shave. Lotion. Oil.
The hair was worse. I brushed until my arms burned. Two broken combs and a brush that gave up all hope was all that was left of my materials. I tried shaving again, but the full moon had other plans. The hair on my left leg grew back as I shaved the right. Hot wax? Absolutely not.
So I conditioned.
Section, lather, brush, braid.
Section, lather, brush, braid.
I lost track of time, of Jeff, of everything except the desperate need to tame myself.
When I finished, my hair was drenched and braided tight against my scalp. I hoped the heat of the shift would dry it into something soft. Something pretty. Something worthy.
I wanted to be his dream girl.
I hoped…even though I knew I would only be for a few more hours.
Jeff
I could smell the seasons changing in the air, yesterday’s rain and today’s frosted leaves under my paws. My long ears twitched as I listened out for her howl. I shook the fresh snow off of my coat and ran over to our meeting spot. I was a little early but I couldn’t hold my excitement.
I was ready to see my wife for real.
All of her.
I know she was nervous but I was sure. Zara was my match in every way. How lucky was I to meet my soulmate as both a human and a wolf. Someone who I could walk through life with on two legs and four.
So I kept running, my heart full.
I know emotions were high in the past few days but isn’t that the beauty of the full moon? That there was no place to hide, even in the dark. Raw emotions, full transparency, no secrets. That’s the type of love I wanted. That’s the type of love I needed after being completely alone in humanity and totally misunderstood as a wolf.
I ran with joy and excitement in my heart.
And there she was, my firecracker wife...muted. Hair slick and head bowed under our favorite tree. I approached slowly but she didn’t look up.
“You look..”
“Horrible, I know.” she said before I could finish my sentence.
“Radiant. I’ve never seen you with this wet and wavy hair style before.”
She looked up, the edges of her lips lifting into a small smile.
“And you smell SO GOOD.”
“I smell like thanksgiving deserts.”
“Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. You’re my favorite holiday.”
As the pure white snow fell and the full moon poured through the night, it was a sort of a Christening. Seeing my delicate wife in this powerful skin cracked something open in me.
I couldn’t be more honest at the moment.
She was my perfect match in every way.
And I would spend the rest of my life convincing her if I had to.