Read Online Under a Bear Moon by Carrie S. Masek - Free Book Online Page B

looks like a little kid when he sleeps, she thought. She glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then reached forward and brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. Even after she finished her yogurt, Lynda stayed with Greg and didn't wake him until the bell rang for sixth period.
* * * *
    A FRIGID GALE roared off the lake. Too cold for snow, the wind hurled icy bits from the ground into Lynda's face. Huddled in her down parka, gloves, and knit cap, she glanced at Greg's bare hands and shivered. “You're going to get frostbite if you don't put on some gloves.”
    “My hands aren't cold. See?” Greg smiled and slipped his hand around Lynda's.
    Heat flowed through the heavy gloves and up her cheeks. “Must be because you're so furry,” she teased.
    “Runs in the family.”
    “Like falling asleep in class?”
    “Exactly.”
    Walking beside Greg, Lynda forgot the biting wind. His bulk sheltered her, and his hand stayed warm all the way to his apartment.
    Greg guided her past the white limestone facade and up the steps. Opening the heavily carved door, he motioned Lynda to go ahead.
    They climbed to the second floor, and Greg unlocked the door to his apartment. Walking in, he called, “It's me, Mom.”
    Lynda followed him into a corridor. She'd seen similar apartments. Called railroad flats, their rooms were strung like beads along a hallway.
    From somewhere deep in the apartment a cheerful voice called, “Hi, honey. There are snacks in the refrigerator if you want one. I'll be out as soon as I finish this article.”
    Greg glanced at Lynda and rolled his eyes. “Mom's a freelance writer. She'll probably finish sometime after midnight. Come on, let's check out the fridge.”
    The clicking of fingers across a keyboard grew louder as they walked down the hallway. Passing a bedroom, Lynda looked in and saw a large woman, presumably Greg's mother, seated at a computer. She waved but didn't look up from her monitor. Lynda wondered if she even realized Greg had company.
    Greg had the refrigerator door open when she joined him in the kitchen. “Orange juice okay? Mom doesn't believe in Coke.”
    “Juice is fine.”
    Looking around the kitchen, Lynda saw the normal appliances—refrigerator, dishwasher, stove. She noticed a large piece of peg board on the wall beside the stove. An assortment of pots and pans, all huge, hung from it.
    Lynda pointed to an enormous frying pan. “I thought you said you were an only child.”
    Greg followed her gaze to the peg board. “I am. Dad and I eat a lot sometimes, so Mom cooks in big batches. Want anything with your juice? I could make a sandwich.”
    “No, thanks.”
    Lynda took the juice, and they returned to the front of the apartment. A curved bay window, only partially hidden by heavy curtains, dominated the living room. There was a fireplace to the left. Bookshelves lined the remaining walls.
    “The factual books about bears are over here.” Greg walked up to the shorter wall and took down a half dozen books. He nodded toward the longer set of shelves behind a threadbare couch. “The rest are all fairy tales and legends.”
    A butcher block table and three mismatched chairs took up most of the floor space between the couch and the window. An ancient typewriter sat on the table amid a pile of scattered papers.
    Greg carefully picked up the papers and set them aside “Mom works in the guest room; Dad works in here,” he said, holding out a chair for Lynda.
    She set down her glass, sat, and pulled a notebook from her bag.
    They worked for over an hour, scouring books and journals for statistics on European bear populations, their decline and migration. They'd covered five notebook pages with information when Lynda nudged Greg's arm. “Get this. ‘Rangers in Yellowstone report grizzly cornered by miniature terrier. Big bear terrified by tiny dog.’ Sounds like something out of the National Enquirer .” A giggle bubbled past her lips before she remembered who else was