I heard Mom park in the driveway, get out and open the trunk.  I set Tigger aside and went out to help.  Mom looked over her shoulder at me, said "Hi, Zack! Welcome home!", then gave me a double take.  "Whoah! Have you been working out?"

"No, just working."  I did have buy new shirts to fit my shoulders, and tighten my belt back to where it was before my freshman fifteen.  "What can I carry for you?" 

"Could you get the pet food?"

"Sure.  I gave her a hug, then grabbed the forty pound bag of Charley's food with one arm, and the twenty pound bag for Tigger in the other.  Three months ago, I would have taken two trips.  Mom reached out and squeezed my bicep.  "What kind of work?"

"Clearing brush, digging ditches, painting apartments, stuff like that."

 She smiled and said, "Well, keep doing it.  It looks good on you!"

I followed her inside, opened the bags of kibble, and put them in airtight bins to keep them fresh.  

Mom emptied the shopping bags and put the groceries away.  "Did you clean the refrigerator?"

"Yeah. It smelled bad. I found some leftovers that fell down the back and spoiled."

"Well, thanks! What's this? Chicken?" 

"Yup.  I didn't think you'd mind if I made dinner.  The marinade should be done around the time Dad gets home."

"He's been working late recently.  They're busy at work."

"Oh, okay.  It'll keep until he gets home."

"I bought steaks, but they can wait until tomorrow."

That roused my predatory instincts, but the marinade would overpower the chicken if it sat too long. "I'm sure they'll be just as good tomorrow. Did Dad say what time to expect him?"

"Around seven or so."

We chatted until six, when I started getting the grill ready.  Hopefully, Dad would get home around the time the chicken was cooked.

I arranged the chicken on the grill so it cooked slowly over low, indirect heat.  That's the key to tender, juicy barbecue.

"I hope your father doesn't get mad about you taking his job."

"Well, if he got home in time, he could have done it."

Good point," she said. "By the way, that girl around the corner was asking about you."

"Vanessa?"

"Yeah, that her name.  It's too bad you missed her.  She seems nice, and she's really pretty.  She seemed disappointed to hear you weren't around."

Well, damn.  Vanessa was one of the prettiest in my high school.  Smart, too.  She never seemed to date though.  I always figured she was in the closet.  Mom probably hoped I'd be more interested in Vanessa than Ashley, and a few months ago, I would have.  Ash said the tiny dating pool was the worst part of being werefolk.  She was right.

Dad got home about the time the chicken was done.  He stepped out of his truck, smelling like he had just taken a shower.  That seemed odd to me, but before I could ask, Mom came out with salads and homemade french fries.  We ate dinner on the patio.  

"Zach made the chicken, hon.  What do you think?" 

"Pretty good, but it's not steak."

"We'll have that tomorrow."

Dad just grunted and ate his salad.  

Mom looked at me, sighed, and said, "Well, I really like it.  What's in it?"

"It's a vinegar-based marinade, with eggs and poultry seasoning."

"Eggs? That's odd."

"Yeah, but it works.  I think the egg helps thicken the marinade and make it stick."

"It's not real barbecue sauce." Dad said.

Mom looked uncomfortable. "He went through the effort.  Be nice."  She paused, and continued, "So tell me more about what you did this summer, Zach."

"Well, my internship was mostly construction inspection. My boss said there are things you can't learn in a classroom, and job site experience will help me avoid mistakes later."

"And what have you been doing for Ashley?"

"Watching her negotiate deals, doing footwork and research for her, and helping her maintain her properties and her ranch."

Dad cut in.  "That guy is right.  A lot of engineers I've met design things that can't be built, then blame the tradesmen that have to build it." He finished his salad, got up and walked into the house.  I heard him put his plates in the sink, and the TV in the den turned on.

And that's pretty much how things went.  I was alone during the day, Mom would come home around five, we'd chat and make dinner together.  Dad would come home late, smelling freshly showered, and grump during dinner.

By Wednesday night, I couldn't stand it anymore.  The last straw was hearing Mom and Dad make love.  They were trying to be quiet, but they had no idea how well I could hear. 

I waited most of an hour after they stopped and slipped out of my room.  Pausing at their door, I could hear Mom taking deep, slow breaths and Dad snoring.  Satisfied, I went out the front door and put my shoes on  on the front step.  The moon was high as I walked away.  My destination was only a few blocks away.

In Houston, they call them bayous.  Maybe it once was the sluggish, swampy stream the name suggests.  Now it was a straight, deep drainage channel.  I ducked under the bridge that carried our street across it, stripped, and hid my clothes up in between the bridge beams.

I stretched, squatted, and dug my fingers and toes into the bare dry clay. With a long, slow exhale, I ceded control to my cougar half.  My bones and joints ached a bit as they reshaped themselves, but most of the awkwardness and pain of my first time was gone.

I trotted upstream, keeping below the banks so I'd be out of sight for anyone looking out their back window.  I paused here and there when a scent caught my attention, freezing when I heard someone walking up on the path, and going faster when a dog barked at me.  It probably would have shut up, had it known what I was.

Mostly, I just let my stress and worries fade and enjoyed being the cougar.

I smelled a rabbit about a mile from home. I froze, crept into range, and pounced.  It heard me and ran, but a few bounds later, I had it.  It screamed until I crunched down on it's head, then went limp.  

After a quick glance around to make sure no one had seen me, I slipped out of the moonlight into the shadows beneath a tree, and enjoyed my snack.

Not much later, I walked up to the house, put my key in the lock, opened the door and relocked it behind me.   The television in the family room was on with the volume low.  I wiped my mouth with my hand, just in case I had left any rabbit blood, and stepped around the corner.

"Hi, Dad," I said softly, "You couldn't sleep, either?"

He stopped channel surfing and looked at me with surprise. "No. Not really.  Where'd you go?"

"Just a walk around the neighborhood. I think it worked. Good night."  Mom's scent on him  made me uncomfortable, so I started walking towards my room. 

"Hey, Zack?"

"Yeah?" I said, turning back around.

"I've been meaning to ask you.  How are your getting along with that woman?"

"Ashley?  Good.  I'm learning a lot.  She had me inspect some electrical work for her, but really I followed a contractor she trusted.  He was checking his employees' work it and showed me what to watch for."

"Oh, okay. So, tell me.  Have your screwed her yet?"

"Dad, no! She's my boss!"

"It's okay.  I won't say anything to your mom.  Guys stick together, right?"

"Yeah, right. As long as Mom doesn't get hurt," I said, as I left the room 

The next night, Mom came home, went straight to the den, and turned on the local news.  "Your father said you went for a walk last night.  Where did you go?"

"Just for a mile or so along the bayou. Why?"

Just then, the news caster announced, "Authorities are telling people on the east side to keep children and pets indoors. Reporter Kay Reynolds has the story."

"John,  this home security video is why Houston PD and Animal Control are worried..."

I stopped paying attention to the words.  The video was blurry, but clear enough to show a large cat creep through the grass and pounce on a rabbit.

Fuck.

"... The size and long tail means it's not a bobcat." 

Well, duh.

The video cut to a man in a blue shirt with "Houston Zoo" on it. He said, "it's hard to tell from the video, but it appears to be a puma or leopard.  Chances are it will avoid people, but if surprised or cornered, it can be very dangerous.  It may also prey on pets and unattended children."

The rest of the segment talked about what the City was doing to catch the animal.

Mom asked, "Is that near where you walked last night?" 

I swallowed and said, "Yeah."

"Please don't do that again."

"Believe me. I won't"

My obvious distress convinced her, even though she was wrong about why.  I wasn't afraid of being attacked.  It was because I didn't want to be captured.

For the next week, I spent my days redecorating the bathroom, and nights with my bedroom door locked, curled up on my bed as the cougar.

The day I left, Dad forgot his lunch.  I brought it to his office on my way back to San Antonio. He was on a job site, so I gave it to his office manager.  She had one of those little "I know something you don't" smiles.  I could smell Dad all over her.

Bitch.  

No. That's an insult to dogs.

"Guys stick together." Yeah, right, Dad. As long as Mom doesn't get hurt.  Dad, you've already hurt her.  She just doesn't know it yet.

It took me a while to realize I wasn't just pissed about Dad's actions.  It was also because I couldn't tell Mom how I knew.