The Luna and her Quadruplet Pups by Jane Above Story

Jane

I’ve always thought l was a good mother, but right now I feel like absolute garbage. Ethan’s words are ringing in my mind like some relentless bell. I can’t stop hearing the way he described my efforts to reunite the pups. He was right – about everything. He was right about how thoughtless I was regarding the pups feelings, right about my determination to carry out my plan without ever stopping to consider if it still made sense, and right that I was letting fear rule me.

Of course, the problem with recognizing your fear, is that it doesn’t just disappear once you know it’s there. It’s not like in a dream, where once you realize nothing that’s happening is real you can change the course of events or wake yourself up. The fear is only too real, and as badly as I want to cure it, that’s not the way humans work. I can’t just wish it away.

This is why psychiatrists always blame the parents. think to myself. Because this is what happens. We impose all our own damage and neuroses onto our pups. We manage to screw them up simply by trying to avoid reliving our own pain. All at once, I miss my own mother so powerfully my knees go weak. I wish I could talk to her, to ask her if she ever felt like a terrible mother.

I can imagine she might have, not because it was true, but because I understand the constant pressure and anxiety of being a parent now. I’ve always been lucky to be able to feed my own pups, while my mother constantly struggled to keep food on the table. I know how guilty I felt when I couldn’t give Paisley the care she needed, and I can’t imagine coping with that every day. Even so, it wasn’t her fault we were poor, just like it wasn’t my fault Paisley was born with a heart defect. But this? Dividing my pups, keeping them from Ethan, treating their lives like pieces on a chessboard – that is my fault, pure and simple.

When I get downstairs. I try to figure out where to go. My instinct is to turn to Linda. I know l’d be welcome even though this would be the second night in the row, and I know she’d listen and pat my hand and tell me l’m being too hard on myself. She’d give me some sort of cliched platitude about just trying to survive or make the best with what I had – but that isn’t what I want right now.

I don’t deserve to be comforted, and II don’t want to sweep these feelings under the rug. I need to face this head on, I need to wallow in my guilt for a while, to accept that good intentions aside, I’ve been a pretty shitty Mom these past few months – maybe from the very beginning.

Instead of turning right towards Linda’s, I turn left, towards the park. It’s dark out, but the moon is full and the sidewalks glitter in the ribbon of its light, still damp from the afternoon’s rain shower. I follow the path until i reach a bench beneath an old willow tree. I try to wipe the water from the metal seat, but in the end I just decide to get wet.

Plopping down onto the bench, I gaze across the great grassy lawn. What do I do, Mom?” l ask aloud, “how am I supposed to make this right without putting myself at risk again?

“You’re asking the wrong question, pup.” A familiar voice sound on my left.

My head j*rks around, I could have sworn I was alone a second ago. And I could have sworn that voice belonged to –

standing next to me. She’s wearing one of her favorite dresses from my childhood, and looks years younger than she did when we parted. I have to blink half a dozen times before I accept that I’m actually seeing her – not that this is comforting. “Oh Goddess! First I figure out l’m a horrible parent, and now l’m losing my actual mind? Can this night get any worse?” I exclaim, throwing my

Jane. My mother says,

to differ.” T bite back, gesturing towards her. “You

talking to me?” She asks primly, sitting beside me and folding her

was… but just in a thinking out loud sort

l could”‘ She replied simply, as if that explains

in ghosts.”

this?” She chirps in response, “you can turn into a wolf at will, but the soul living on

along than I feared. Although, I ponder, if’m already crazy, I might as well lean into the skid. “I really miss you.” I tell her, on the verge of breaking down into sobs. “There are so

She smiles, stroking my cheek. Though I can feel a slight tingle as her ghostly fingers connect with my skin, it’s

“You do?” I ask.

felt all the same things you did when I finally

to ask for or expect less just

asks, reading my thoughts. She was so sick by the time things went wrong in my marriage that

you.” l replying, only giving her

She presses, reading me like a

when you taught me to be so much stronger than that.” I

you didn’t “let anything happen. In fact, I think it’s partly my fault that you’re in this situation now. I was so

one.” | finish for

then you thought Ethan was trying to make you one, when he really just