The Alpha's Mate? But I'm a Single Mom!

Chapter Two

My grandmother, Lupe, arrived right after I fed Regan her breakfast. Last winter, I gave her a spare key to save her from having to wait outside my door in the bitter cold. So, she walked in with the key in hand and immediately took after where I left off.

"I was cooking her some weenies," I explained, slowly walking away from the kitchen.

With her grey hair neatly tucked into a bun, Lupe wrapped an apron around her waist while she scuttled to the stove. Her sunken eyes met mine, hazel galaxies warped within her gaze like melted emeralds and brown obsidian. The wrinkles under her eyes had a wise shadow to them, where a younger version of myself would ponder the lengths of her percipience. Even as a child, the presence she emanated spoke volumes of who she was as a person.  At times, she would radiate a sense of comfort alien to anyone else, but like the tides of the ocean, she rocked back in forth between states. Traditional yet accepting. Nurturing yet strict. She carried herself like an enigma.

She batted her hands in my direction and she took the wooden spoon. I could sense her ready to chastise me for lingering.

"Yes, yes. I get it," she said. Her accent faded years ago, but every so often, I would hear the familiar tang and emphasis in her voice. "Just get dressed and hurry to work."

I flashed a smile. "Thanks, mama."

Floorboards creaked under my weight as I powerwalked to my room. My hands dove for the drawers, scouring for underwear and socks. Caramel strands fell over my forehead as I bent over, my hair pooling over my shoulders. Row by row, I rolled down the drawers when I couldn't find a single pair of socks. 

"Sh*t," I hissed. 

I opened Regan's drawer and rummaged through the mess, my forehead crinkling upon discovering socks that didn't fit Regan anymore. Including socks that belonged to Pence. 

Teeth sank into my lower lip. 

I need to donate some of these socks, I thought. I made a mental note to sort them errr, later. Eventually. Hopefully.

After checking the laundry and every other drawer in my room, I found a decent match and I ran to the bathroom. I had what I needed, but this part gets a little intimate, don't you think? Let's fast forward.

By the restroom door, my restaurant uniform hung neatly, ready to be worn for the day. I reached for it and I remembered the first time I walked into work wearing the black and red ensemble. I felt embarrassed and so out of touch from the environment. I used to work in retail at a New Blue, which gave me minimal hours and crazy expectations. The job carried me throughout high school and helped me develop a skill of pressuring people into buying things, but after having Regan, the hours weren't suitable. I mean- The same could be said about my new job,  but after a month of getting used to the flow, it felt like I had a better wage. At least now, I wasn't afraid of not having anything to feed Regan. 

I returned to the kitchen and immediately, I was met with the smell of eggs and tortillas.  

"For me?" I asked, ogling a plate on the table. 

My grandma rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a smile. "Cometelo."

She didn't need to order me twice. I bent down, grabbed the burrito, and bit into with vigor. I didn't have enough time to sit down, so my hands combed through my hair as I chewed. My fingers worked with the hair band as I flashed Regan a look. 

"Yummies?" I asked. 

Regan held up her fist-full of eggs, opening her mouth dramatically, prompting me to eat her breakfast. I comically lunged forward and pretended to eat her fingers. She giggled like it was the funniest thing on the entire f*cking planet.