“What’s wrong?” Jenny repeated shrilly. “What’s wrong is that I have webbed fingers and sharp teeth, and I can’t eat anything without wanting to dunk it in salt water first.” She heard her voice climb an octave. “What’s wrong is that I’ve spent nearly two weeks in someone else’s skin. What’s wrong is that I can’t even read any more, let alone make sense of words. I don’t remember how to turn on a computer.” She turned to Travis. “What’s wrong is that you want to kiss me, and I don’t even know you.”
We know him, her otter insisted.
“I don’t know you,” she snarled, and she wasn’t sure if she was replying to her otter, or to Travis, who was gazing at her as if she were hanging stars instead of having a ridiculous breakdown.
Rather than continue to stand there looking like an idiot as she ran out of words, Jenny turned away, and staggered out of the bar, knocking another chair over as she fled through the tables and out the back entrance.
Half-running, blinded by tears, she ran soundly into something soft but unyielding, just outside the bar entrance.
“Gracious, darling! We’re on island time, nothing can be worth a rush like that.”
The woman she’d barre
led into was as tall as Jenny, and perhaps three times as wide, rolls of flesh bared at the shoulders and again at the knees, and otherwise swathed in swirls of magenta silk. Loose auburn hair hung to her waist. Despite her soft look, she didn’t budge an inch at Jenny’s collision, and if she hadn’t put an iron hand at Jenny’s wrist, the fleeing woman would have bounced off and fallen backwards. Instead, Jenny was steadied on her feet, and her shoulders were brushed off like an errant child.
“Oh, sugar, you’ve been crying,” the woman said compassionately, and even if Jenny hadn’t been crying already, that kindness would have undone her.
As she bawled anew, the woman drew her to a bench in the shade. It creaked alarmingly as they settled on it, and the woman pulled a piece of fabric from an orange beach bag to let Jenny wipe her face.
“Oh,” sniffed Jenny as her claws snagged on the fabric. “This is silk… I shouldn’t…” She tried to offer it back, tear-stained as it was.
“It will launder,” the woman said dismissively, continuing to pat Jenny’s shoulder in comfort. “Or it won’t, no matter. What matters is that you look like you’ve lost your best friend, and here we are at a beautiful resort where you ought to be enjoying the good food and good views.” She put a hand at Jenny’s chin and tipped it up to look into her eyes.
Were they human eyes this time? Or were they her otter’s dark eyes with no whites?
Whatever the woman found there, Jenny forced herself to look steadily back. She had the most arresting blue eyes.
“I’m Magnolia,” the woman said, smiling and releasing her chin. “And that’s a little better now, isn’t it. Sometimes a good cry is just what you need to put things back into perspective.”
“I’m Jenny, and I’m sorry to bother you,” Jenny said, wiping away the last tears from her face. “I’m just... a little new to being a shifter.” It seemed like the simplest explanation.
“Ah,” Magnolia nodded. “That doesn’t happen often, but I imagine it’s quite an upset. Particularly if you think you have your life all figured out in a particular way.”
Jenny stared. Was that why she was having so much trouble? She had been so sure about the path of her life. She was going to be the best lawyer, the best sister.
Now, here she was, unsure of everything, right down to the shape of her body and the direction of her heart. Her sister was better than her, at everything, and Jenny was unexpectedly the one falling apart.
“Believe me, darling,” Magnolia was saying, “I grew up on a very different island than this, and thought my life would play out in a very different way. But I chose differently, and haven’t looked back, and you’ll figure out the best path for yourself, too.”
Without revulsion, Magnolia picked up one of Jenny’s misshapen hands. “You may not be used to all the new features, but don’t forget for a moment that you are the beautiful sum all your parts.”
Jenny wished she had a fraction of the confidence the big woman exuded. “Thank you,” she said genuinely. She couldn’t consider the claws or the webbing beautiful, but she tried to remember that becoming an otter had saved her life.
“Oh honey,” the big woman said cheerfully, “You are as welcome as the dawn! Now, it’s been two weeks since I had one of Tex’s margarita’s, and that is two weeks too many.” She heaved to her feet, tucking the silk Jenny had cried on back into her big orange beach bag.
“Jenny! Oh, Magnolia, you’re back!”
Jenny turned at Gizelle’s cheerful call.
“Gizelle, honey!” Magnolia opened her arms, and Gizelle darted in and gave her a swift hug. “You’re getting brave, darling,” Magnolia told her proudly.
“There were so many people,” Gizelle told her frankly. “It was noisy and smelly while you were gone. But I didn’t break anything and I only shifted…” she counted silently on her fingers until she ran out.
“That’s excellent,” Magnolia told her before she could finish. From anyone else it might have sounded patronizing, but Jenny felt like it was genuine and gracious. “And you’ve met Jenny.”
“She’s a twin,” Gizelle said, as if Jenny wasn’t standing right there. “I’m helping her. She needs it.”
“That’s lovely of you, sugar,” Magnolia said with an amused sideways look at Jenny.