Chapter 186

Ava

Later that night, Chris and I arrived in the elegant dining room—this one larger than the other, with a crackling fireplace situated at the far end and a gleaming mahogany bar against the wall. Chris pulled my chair out for me and I took my seat across from Clara, who was sitting beside Bernard.

“Thank you for having us,” I said as Chris sat beside me.

Bernard nodded stiffly, his voice gruff as he responded, “Of course.” It was clear that his mind was still elsewhere, although he looked a lot more open than he did that morning.

Clara offered a warm smile. “We’re so glad you could join us for dinner tonight. Shall we begin with some appetizers?”

As she passed around a platter of delicious-looking hors d’oeuvres, I reached into my bag and pulled out two bottles of wine, which I had brought from home. I intended to leave them as a parting gift, but I had decided to share them tonight—admittedly in the hopes that they would further sway Bernard’s decision.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I brought something of my own to share,” I said, presenting the bottles. “It’s my own homemade wine.”

Clara’s eyes lit up as she looked at the bottles. “Oh, how lovely! Bernard, dear, would you open these for us?”

Bernard took the bottles, examining the labels with a raised eyebrow. “Homemade, you say?”

I nodded. “Yes, it’s a hobby of mine.”

“More than a hobby,” Chris said with a smirk. “I could see her opening a winery of her own one day.”

I rolled my eyes and waved my hand. “No, no. It’s just something I do in my spare time. I hope you’ll enjoy it.”

“What kind of wine is it?” Clara asked as Bernard uncorked the first bottle.

“This one is a blackberry merlot,” I explained. “And the other is an orange sangria.”

Bernard, to my surprise, chuckled slightly. “You do love your oranges, don’t you?” he asked, causing my cheeks to flush. Chris gave my knee a squeeze under the table, his hand warm and gentle through the silk of my skirt.

Clara took the first sip and her eyes widened. “Oh my, this is delightful! Bernard, you must try this.”

Bernard took a tentative sip, and I held my breath. After a moment, he nodded. “It’s... quite good, actually.”

Clara beamed at me. “You have a real talent for winemaking, Ava. Don’t you think so, Bernard?”

“Yes, it’s impressive,” Bernard admitted.

I felt a warmth in my chest at the compliment, even though it was a bit vague. “Thank you. I’m so glad you like it.”

As we moved on to the main course, the conversation flowed a bit more easily thanks to the wine and Clara’s gentle prodding. However, I could still sense an underlying tension, particularly from Bernard. He didn’t trust us yet, despite our little speeches earlier.

Finally, as we were finishing our meal, Bernard set down his fork and looked at Chris and me intently. “I’ve been thinking about your offer of friendship,” he said.

Chris straightened in his seat. “And?”

Bernard’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I’ve decided to accept, but on one condition.” Chris nodded, silently urging him to continue. “I want the truth. All of it. I know you’re not here simply to make amends. Is it true that a blight is affecting Moonstone?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but Chris beat me to it. “Yes, it’s true,” he said, his voice a little hoarse. Bernard’s eyebrows shot up, clearly surprised by the candid admission. Chris continued, “We’ve had success with our GMO, but it’s beginning to spread more quickly than our scientists can manage it.”

“We’re worried it may spread to other packs before we can stop it,” I said. “That’s part of why we want to rebuild friendships—not only in case we need help, but also because if the blight does spread, we believe it’s best if the five packs are united.”

“And speaking of which,” Chris added, his voice dropping a little, “we may need a place to go… if Moonstone becomes uninhabitable.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Bernard and Clara exchanged a long look, communicating silently in that way long-married couples often do. I grew worried that our admission might change Bernard’s mind, make him feel like we only came because we wanted something from him.

Finally, Bernard sighed heavily. “I appreciate your honesty,” he said. “We may be able to offer money and assistance, but…” His expression was pained. “Our pack is already populated enough. Refugees may cause economic issues, especially with our current beetle infestation.”

Chris nodded, exchanging a glance with me. I nudged his knee with my own beneath the table, feeling bolstered; maybe we didn’t have a solid plan set in case of evacuation, but Bernard might just offer his help after all. That was all that mattered.

“We completely understand,” Chris said. “And thank you, Bernard. Any help you can offer would be greatly appreciated, if you do decide to help.”

Bernard cleared his throat and took another sip of his wine. A silence fell over the table then and stretched on for a few moments until Clara, seemingly eager to lighten the mood, suddenly clapped her hands together.

“Not to change the subject, but I have an idea,” she said. “Why don’t we play a game of cards? Let’s try to enjoy ourselves a bit.”

Bernard looked skeptical. “Cards? Now?”

“Yes, now,” Clara insisted. “It’ll be fun, and we could all use a bit of levity. We can play that couples game—you know, the one where you pass cards back and forth with your mouths.”

I felt my cheeks flush at the suggestion, and I saw Chris trying to hide a smile. Bernard, however, just looked uncomfortable. “I don’t know, Clara…”

But Clara was already clearing the table. “Oh, come now, Bernard. Don’t be such a stick in the mud.”

A few minutes later, we found ourselves in the parlor. As Clara set up the game, I leaned in close to Chris. “Are you okay with this?” I whispered.

He grinned and nodded his head toward Bernard, whose face was beet red with embarrassment as he sipped his drink. “Are you kidding? This is going to be hilarious.”

Soon, we were all seated around the table, a deck of cards between us. Clara explained the rules, and it became clear to me just how much of a genius she was; I hoped to be a Luna like that someday. One who could manipulate the energy of a gathering with such ease that no one even noticed that she was actually just trying to get a read on people.

“Alright, then,” she said, “each couple takes turns drawing a card. You have to pass it to your partner using only your mouths—no hands allowed. If you drop the card, you must drink and start all over again. The couple who successfully passes the most cards wins.”

Bernard shifted in his seat, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “Clara, I really don’t think our guests are interested in a college game—”

“Nonsense,” Clara cut him off, placing a card between her lips. “We’ll start.”

I watched in amazement as Clara leaned across the coffee table, the card held delicately against her lips. Bernard hesitated for a moment before leaning in to take the card. Their lips barely brushed as he captured the card by suctioning it to his own mouth, his face flushed.

“See?” Clara said triumphantly. “It’s not so bad. Your turn, Chris and Ava.”

Chris winked at me before picking up a card with his mouth. I leaned in, my heart racing as our faces drew close. Our lips met briefly through the thin paper, sending a jolt of electricity through me.

As the game continued, I could see Bernard slowly relaxing. By the third round, he was even cracking a smile as Clara dramatically dipped him to pass a card. The card, however, slipped away, causing them to kiss. Chris and I roared with laughter as Bernard, his face turning the brightest shade of red I had ever seen on a man, downed his wine glass in two big gulps.

Chris and I found our rhythm quickly, our card transfers smooth and effortless. More than once, I caught Bernard watching us with an expression on his face that looked almost like approval. Or maybe it was just the fact that we were all getting drunk off of the second bottle of wine.

In the end, Chris and I emerged victorious, having passed the most cards successfully.

Clara clapped her hands in delight. “Well done, you two! You must have excellent chemistry.”

I felt myself blushing, suddenly nervous about Bernard’s reaction. So this was Clara’s angle: getting a read on our relationship and displaying it to Bernard.

To my surprise, a small smile played at the corners of his mouth.

“Yes,” he said softly. “I suppose they do.”