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ELI

I t starts with the 8-Track player. I don’t even know what it is at first. It looks like a bright red fan or boom box with only one speaker. All I know is that it’s at the foot of the bed one morning when I leave for the gym.

I’m confused, but also secretly thrilled. I take a photo of it and send it to Charity with the message, What’s this?

She sends back a laughing emoji. That, my friend, is an old-school 8-Track player.

It’s at the foot of your bed. Is Max experimenting with a certain controlled substance?

She makes it sound like Max is taking cocaine or something.

I’m not sure why Max would collect 8-Track players. I’m even more confused the next morning when I trip on an old-fashioned Victrola at the side of our bed. It has one of those speakers shaped like a blooming flower.

“Be careful!” Max hisses at me while he’s still half asleep.

“Do you have a secret passion for music you’ve never told me about?” I ask. Max doesn’t ever listen to music. He doesn’t even have Spotify.

“Huh?” He mumbles into his pillow.

He’s useless before nine o’clock, so I head out to the gym.

By the time I get back, there are three cassette tapes placed strategically on each side of the bed. The shower is on, so I crouch next to the one on my side of the bed and pick it up. The tape is in a plastic case labeled “Reverse” in Max’s small, neat print.

The shower shuts off, so I let go of the tape like a child with their hand caught in the cookie jar.

That afternoon we have an appointment with Heller. He answers the door with his usual enthusiasm, giving both of us a hug at the door. He doesn’t mention the police officer until we find him drinking a cup of coffee at his table in full uniform.

“Oh, hi,” I say.

“Good afternoon.”

Heller folds his arms across his chest. “This officer and I are experiencing a disagreement of sorts. He seems to think that the diamond bracelet by my bed should go back to the jewelry store, but I’ve tried to explain to him that it’s exactly where it belongs.”

I do my best to hold back a smile. The police officer looks very tired, but he’s clearly a penguin shifter, so he knows the law.

Pregnant penguin shifters in the latter stage of their pregnancy are allowed to borrow almost anything within reason, as long as they give it back. I’ve never had a client take a diamond bracelet, though. That’s bold.

I’m not the least bit surprised.

“Are you his alpha? The value of that bracelet goes over the legal limit of what omegas are allowed to borrow until their egg-laying.”

This police officer has no idea who he’s dealing with.

“Do you have a professional appraisal of the item’s worth and documented proof that the jewelry shop will experience severe duress if the bracelet is not returned to them immediately? Because without both of those things, you can’t remove that bracelet from his nest,” I say.

The police officer narrows his eyes. “Are you his alpha?”

“I’m the legal alpha parent of his egg.” I’m not going to lie to this guy, but I’m also not going to back down. I know for a fact that Heller doesn’t have any legal family that will go to bat for him, which means he’s vulnerable in a situation like this.

“Then why don’t you go take a look inside his bedroom. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Heller doesn’t show even the tiniest hint of guilt or concern. That means he feels very comfortable with me. It also means that he’s well into his nesting phase.

I thought he was still two weeks away from his due date, which is why I haven’t seen him for almost five days.

I walk through Heller’s living room to the bedroom door in the corner of the apartment. When I open it, I bust up laughing. The floor is littered with money, and there is a very precise and thick line of jewelry lining the outside of the bed.

Last week Heller told us that his omega grandmother gave him her ruby necklace when his parents kicked him out. The money he got from hocking that ruby necklace was what got him through the first few months on his own. But without that information, this just looks like Heller robbed a bank.

I walk back to the dining room.

“See?” The police officer says. “You can’t tell me all of that jewelry is his. What if somebody found out what he was collecting and came in here to rob him? It’s a security risk.”

He’s right, unfortunately.

“I guess you’ll have to station an officer here, then.”

The police officer stares back at me blankly.

“Heller is an omega whose safety is at risk due to the nature of his nest. He’s entitled to protection by the police force of Anchorage for up to two weeks.”

Max’s shoulders shake silently with laughter. I’m glad he sees the humor in this too. Heller has really outdone himself here. That is the most extravagant nest I have ever seen.

Our egg is going to be laid amongst jewels. I like that.

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” The officer insists.

“But you yourself said it was a security risk. Did you hear that, Max?” I say.

“Yep. That’s what I heard,” Max agrees.

Heller smiles at the officer. “Would you like more coffee? Or I could make you tea. I have some fresh croissants too.”

He sits back down at the table. “Sure, why not? I think I’m going to be here for a while.”

“Oh, good. I do love a man in uniform,” Heller says, opening a cupboard.

Max walks across the living room, peering into Heller’s bedroom. He covers his mouth, his shoulders shaking with laughter again, seemingly unaware that he’s started an equally illogical collection of his own in our bedroom.

This means they’ll be nesting at the same time.

Good God. What have I signed myself up for?