Chapter 1: House of Memories
September 2063
"You're wearing at least twenty-five thousand dollars worth of Givenchy and Balmain couture! This isn't a mall photobooth give me some fucking face!" I screamed at the teenage model, who in turn rolled her lifeless eyes before she hunched her lanky body and attempted to work her face into something more animated.
She looked constipated.
I took a few more shots, all lackluster and howled in frustration. We were an hour behind schedule, with two more girls to finish before we could wrap up the shoot. The other models, older and more experienced, watched from the makeup station with bemused expressions, both dripping in opulent jewel and flowy fabrics. I had worked with them both before and knew I didn't have to worry about but I was working against time, fighting the natural light that filtered in through a wall of windows. It didn't help that I was desperate for a moment alone and couldn't concentrate with my breasts so painfully full of milk I didn't have time to pump.
Everything in the fashion world is done far in advance. We had to get these shots to the editing team tonight in order for them to be on schedule for the Spring '64 Issue of Vogue. This issue would be released in January, featuring clothes that were not appropriate to wear until May or June but we were on a strict deadline.
"Go, go just get out of here," I sighed, motioning for one of the other models to come forward.
"Hello Maddox," The tall slender Asian model greeted me politely. I smiled in return though my left breast burned in agony. I was nearly 36 and this girl was barely half my age but she was a consummate professional, who knew her body well. Barring any emergencies I would be done with her quickly.
"Hey Sun, it's good to see you again," I said directing her to lie across the chaise lounge. A stylist's rushed behind her, artistically fanning her flowy Elie Saab dress out for optimal display.
The shoot was pretty standard, in a studio staged to look like a French courtesan's powder room in shades of beige and baby blue. The soft vintage decor contrasted beautifully with their ultra modern outfits in rich shades of red and burnt orange with heavy beading that was set to be all the rage come spring.
"Beautiful. Perfect," I cooed as Sun draped herself gracefully into another position, her eyes filled with fire.
Every crouch and stretch I made caused my camera strap to brush against my sensitive breasts but I ignored it. Solace and I knew that breastfeeding would be difficult with my fast paced job but it was a sacrifice I was willing to make for my babies. I heard my phone ring repeatedly from my bag, Solace's ringtone and the mother in me wanted to dive across the room for it but at a shoot of this caliber all eyes were on me.
I had worked in nature photography for several years before my wedding and the transition to fashion photography had been difficult. If it were not for my connection to Chloe a model-turned-actress, I would not be here now shooting a spread for one of the only remaining fashion magazines.
The world of printed publications declined rapidly in the mid-2040s but Vogue remained. Year round the rest of my photography work revolved around blogs, vlogs, catalogues, fashion shows and the occasional private shoot for the fashionista that could afford me, which forced me to ping-pong between LA and New York, my beloved husband and two small children in tow, but Vogue was the big leagues.
Sun's shoot went smoothly and as a makeup artist touched up the next model, I ran to my phone, tripping over cords as I went. Solace knew better than to call me until I gave him the all clear and a heavy knot had formed in my stomach as I fiddled with the touch screen to return his missed calls.
"Are they okay," I hissed tears of worry already forming in my eyes.
"Carina and Ezra are okay, but we need to get back to La Push." Solace's voice was all wrong. I could hear the strain there and it made the knots in my gut multiply.
"What happened?" I cried, dragging myself further away from the team of makeup artists and stylists.
"It's Kim, babe we have to leave soon or we won't make it in time to say goodbye," he choked on the word goodbye and my tears doubled, streaming down my face.
Kim had gotten sick at the end of last year. I had heard she was diagnosed with lung cancer but being far away from something gives you the distinct ability to numb it's sharp edges and tuck it away. We had not been back to Washington since Christmas when her diagnosis was fresh and she was still her old straight shooting self. She looked older of course, but that was many of the pack I grew up with. Those who were frozen in time had all left long ago to avoid suspicion, leaving only those like my parents who started to go gray a few years back.
After I ditched my college sweetheart at the altar, we made a new life. We started fresh by moving to L.A following Solace's gigs as a stunt driver which kept us going until I transitioned slowly from nature photography to the world of fashion and celebrity. After I built my name in the industry it became harder and harder to return to my scenic my hometown and my tribe.
My husband Solace and I rented two large apartments on each coast, never truly putting down roots in either. This nomadic lifestyle led to two beautifully bohemian children aged 6 and 1, a spontaneous and wildly happy marriage, and a huge wedge between my nuclear family and the wolf pack that raised me.
"Babe I have one girl left to shoot. Do you have our emergency bags packed?" I sniffled, turning to find a room of primarily gay fashionistas waiting impatiently for me.
"Yes, we're all set to fly," he said seriously. Solace had taken less and less stunt work as our children and my career grew. He became the perfect father, managed the household and took care of the logistics, allowing me to be the emotional and scatter-brained artist I always dreamed of being.
"When's the next flight?" I asked watching as a tall frail-looking stylist played with his long silky mane in annoyed boredom.
"6:45, I've already booked."
It was 1:50pm. The traffic from this beautiful studio in Glendale to LAX would be brutal, giving me less than an hour to finish this. My breast still felt on the verge of bursting and Kim the long time matriarch of our world was dying. I knew this on an intellectual level for a while but I had not been ready to face the brutality of that fact before it came falling down on me like a pile of bricks.
"If we don't finish this last girl soon, we'll need to change the lights and put up some soft boxes," Christopher my curmudgeonly second camera and lighting tech, called over the blood rushing in my ears.
"I'll meet you there, babe." I hung up and rushed back to my camera, hissing with each bounce of my breasts.
"Ready?!" I shouted over the growing chatter. The third and final model, a blond clad in a merlot mini dress, stood poised on an ottoman in 5 inch gold heels. She smirked at me cockily as if she had been born for this. It was my favorite shot of the day. I shot several dozen others, in many different poses but I knew without a doubt I had my cover shot within the first five frames.
"Lydia can you please book me a car to LAX?" I called over my shoulder to a production assistant and the blond model, now sprawled across the floor, smiled from the very depth of her soul. The triumph was evident on every millimeter of her face. I caught that shot as well before I let her go.
I tossed my memory card to Lydia, packing my things and watching as they connected it to a nearby laptop. I'm a known perfectionist. I would generally spend hours pouring over every shot but the last triumphant frame, taken in the hazy mid afternoon sun, gave me the confidence to excuse myself early.
My designated ride-sharing vehicle was parked at the side entrance of the studio by the time I made it down the steep stairs and ignoring the pain, I ran for it.
"LAX," I confirmed pulling my camera bag and large insulated breastfeeding bag in behind me.
The driver, a young slim black man with close cropped hair looked back at me through the rear-view mirror, nodding and giving me the once over before averting his eyes.
"Ma'am you've got something on your shirt," he said evenly, pulling out of the lot. I had leaked through both sides, leaving two large wet marks on my mustard yellow top. Without a second thought I got out my baby bag and the 'click-click-whoosh' of my breast pump served as the soundtrack for our drive to airport.
To his credit, the driver only looked back once; confirming that there was in fact a chubby brown lady pumping milk from her tits in his back seat, before keeping his eyes glued to the road. I filled two bottles in silence, before I was throwing a tip at him in a rush to get to the correct gate. There were still 2 hours before take-off but with ever increasing national security, deeply tanned skin and a bag full of white liquid, I was in for quite an ordeal.
I felt Solace before I saw him, a head taller than the crowd, carrying our precious Carina in a papoose. At 13 months she was all smiles, waving as she caught sight of me in the chaos. Her brother Ezra let go of Solace's leg and ran for me, arms extended.
"I've got an extra t-shirt in my backpack," Solace motioned, bending down to kiss the cheek not pressed to Ezra's. I changed in the family bathroom, stripping out of my casually chic designer clothes for an old band t-shirt and a pair of yoga pants. While I switched, Solace changed Carina's diaper and I listen as Ezra listed the days events from breakfast and finger painting to petting zoo yoga.
Solace and I often debated the merits of Los Angeles versus New York. We had yet to pick a permanent residence and while Solace fit better with the carb-free, goat-yoga loving California crowd, I leaned towards the fast-moving, razor-tongued New York set. In truth, neither felt place like home but of the two, the bustling urban city of New York (where my sister Harley and her husband Jett now lived with their baby girl Starr), always put me more at ease. While Solace, still phasing, enjoyed the proximity to nature that L.A provided.
After several rounds of screening, my breast milk being tested twice with PH and then drug strips, we reached the waiting area with 20 minutes until boarding. My Solace sat across from me, eyes glazed as he watched the planes lined just outside of the window. We hadn't had a moment alone, we might not for several more hours but I could read the pain there as clearly as my own. He bounced Carina absentmindedly on his knee, kissing the baby soft hairs on her head before meeting my gaze.
"We should have gone home for Easter," I whispered so low only Ezra in my lap and Solace could hear. Solace wanted to, he had campaigned for us to take an extended spring break when my mother told us about Kim's deteriorating health but last minute I booked a shoot for Kenzo on Jeju Island in the new United Republic of Korea.
It wasn't that I didn't want to see my family but every corner of La Push seemed to be saturated in overwhelming emotion for me and photography was my calm. I lived a beautiful life. I was more fortunate and happy now than I could ever imagined was possible but every road in La Push seemed to lead to memories that cut a path through my heart like a scalpel. Every doorstep dragged me back in time to mistakes and heartaches I'd rather forget. Each beach and sandy shore washed me with guilt and regret that weighed on my chest like anchors.
I grew up viewing Kim as a constant like First Beach and River's Edge Restaurant, she was part of La Push. With each update on her health it was hard to imagine this woman, so filled with life, could ever cease to exist. So I pushed it back and away until it was too late.
"They've brought her home. She's doing home hospice care," he whispered to me once we were settled in our row, Carina in my lap and Ezra happily taking the window seat. I grabbed his big warm hand, not trusting my own voice to answer.
"Embry and Letty are in Brazil with Jake and Nessie, they don't know if they'll make it in time." He choked on the last three words. I kissed him, pulling back to press my forehead to his. I counted silently, inhaling him and listening as his breathing normalized after 40 counts.
"I love you," I started.
"More than life itself," he finished.
It was our mantra and it meant more today than ever before.
We rented a car at an airport kiosk, taking the only family friendly vehicle they had available and driving to La Push in silence. After a quick feeding and changing, both our children passed out in their car seats without a fuss.
Solace never sold his old house on the South west edge of La Push near Second Beach trail but with each visit it seemed to be in a farther state of disrepair. The dated furniture was faded by the sun through the large windows that now leaked, leaving the house smelling stale and moldy. The floors creaked loudly and some planks had warped. It was fascinating how quickly a house would deteriorate without inhabitants and part of me wished I had time to shoot the space.
It was nearly midnight but without discussion we dropped our bags in the doorway and rushed back out, driving the familiar road to my family home. The door was unlocked, lights and deep voices sounded from the kitchen. We tip-toed inside, careful not to wake our children as we followed the sounds inside.
At the head of the large kitchen table my baby brother Addison, fully grown and sporting a thick lumberjack beard, was the first to hear us approach. He spun around bringing Solace, still holding our sleeping Ezra, in for a hug. They stood together silently, my son as Solace released the tears he'd been holding back since the moment we boarded the plane.
"You came," my mother sighed in relief, pulling Carina out of my arms as soon as I was close enough. Carina stirred, whining momentarily before my mother nuzzled her, humming an old Makah tune that instantly took my breath away. I hadn't heard it since my grandmother babysat us, rocking Addison in her lap while we ran around her home in Neah Bay.
I flopped down on the nearest chair next to my sister-in-law Sammy who instantly grabbed my hand and squeezed it. She watched Solace and Addison stoically, as they muttered to each other still deep in a brotherly embrace.
"Is Harley coming?" I asked searching the room. I hadn't thought to text her, knowing she was soon to start filming on her newest project. Sammy shook her head, her short cropped hair swinging across her face.
"I don't think so. She's leaving to film some fantasy movie in New Zealand in 2 days," Sammy whispered. She was still dressed in her police uniform, her dark blue shirt unbuttoned and her holstered gun at her side, which emphasized her look of disapproval with my sister.
After Miramax entrusted Harley with her first summer blockbuster she had been catapulted into the public sphere. In the last 3 years she had helmed a wildly successful rom-com, an oscar nominated rags-to-riches tale and a globe trotting heist film, so despite owning a beautiful loft in Tribeca very close to our tiny place in Chinatown, our times in New York rarely overlapped.
"Where's Dad?" "Where's Quil?" Solace and I asked in unison. No one answered.
My mother continued to hum and kiss every inch of Carina's face, and Addison pulled his wife to his side. Addison whispered to Sammy soothingly, but her shoulders continued to shake until finally she huffed, reholstered her gun and moved to leave.
"What? What's wrong?" I demanded, the shrillness of my voice causing Carina to cry.
"He's with Jared. Where the hell do you think he is? He's been at Jared's side for the last month and you'd know that if you thought to check in just once since Christmas. You act like you're allergic to this place! At least Harley donates and knows the struggles we are facing here in the pack and on the reservation. You can't even pretend to give a fuck until it's too late," Sammy spat, her hard shell cracking momentarily allowing one fat tear to fall out of her left eye.
Solace pulled me to his chest, shielding me from the anger palpitating off of Sammy but I just felt nauseous. I'd never once sat to think about what happened to a wolf when their imprint died and now my horror multiplied thinking of warm, jolly Jared who was a constant fixture of my childhood. Sam, Jared, Paul, Collin and my father were the town's old guard wolves, they had retired long ago and acted as advisors to the very small remaining pack of five, soon to be three with Sammy and Freddie's upcoming retirements. Above all else though they were best friends, the five of them growing even closer since so many of their pack had moved on.
"Oh God Jared," I half gasped, half sobbed and Solace held me tighter.
"We don't know what will happen to him… once she goes. He's barely holding it together now so we'll probably lose them both," Addison said, lovingly stroking Sammy's hair as she sniffled into his shoulder.
They were not generally this physically affectionate in public, in fact of the imprinted couples they were always the most understated. I could count the number of times I've seen them kiss on one hand, including their wedding, but their relationship had gone particularly smoothly as far as imprints go. They had been best friends growing up and my brother had always had a crush on Sammy before she phased and imprinted on him, so it was only natural that their relationship was almost instantaneous.
Sammy followed Addison to New York for school without a second thought and attended Ithaca College while he received a bachelors in Architecture from Cornell. After graduation they returned to La Push for a small beachside wedding before moving to Spain so he completed the apprenticeship he needed to become a fully licensed architect. Much to everyone's surprise when all his hard work had been completed, they moved back to La Push to settle down. She became a cop for the reservation and he worked for the state, commuting ridiculous distances so she could be in the town she loved so much.
"When can we go see them?" Solace asked.
"Everyone's just coming and going. She's hopped up on so much medication she's in and out of consciousness," my mother finally spoke. I could see the horror in her eyes. I had not seen such fear there since her own father passed when I was in college.
"All of her kids are here though, including Amber," Sammy warned, looking at me with meaningful eyes.
I had not seen Amber in the ten years since our wedding and if I were honest with myself I hadn't thought of her since then either. I saw Kai relatively often but like a silent agreement he kept news of his maternal family to himself. I built a comfortable and healthy relationship with my step-son and his imprint Hope over time and they were now my closest connection to La Push. Solace and I invited them to come down to L.A often, and they accepted our invites more now that he was working on getting his commercial pilots license. To become a pilot a lot of airtime practice was required and private planes were a lot more common in jet-set crowds of Los Angeles than La Push.
"As I expected they would be," I said dismissively, grabbing Solace's hand and heading out the door. The majority of the Cameron children lived in Europe now (all immortal save for Annabelle), and the brothers had become part of Jake's ever growing international pack along with Ethan's son Emmett, Taylor's wife Melody, Seth Clearwater and Soli's son Tristan.
"Just don't start any shit, that's the last thing they need right now," Sammy pressed.
I didn't have the desire or the energy to defend myself against Sammy, La Push's biggest cheerleader, so I left without another word. It was mid-September and still very warm despite the late hour. Hand-in-hand we walked through the dark reservation, the salty ocean breeze from the west calming me as we approached.
"Kai's here," Solace announced, letting go of my hand and sprinting toward the old Cameron house.
His son must have smelled us as well because before he reached the door, Kai launched himself over the rail and collided with Solace with deafening force. They hugged fiercely, so similar in age, size and appearance they could have passed for brothers. Hope appeared on the porch just as Kai's sobs broke the silence of the dark road, she watched on with pained eyes and I joined her, pulling the petite beauty into a warm hug.
"Hey Maddz," a weak voice sounded from behind me. I turned to see Melody hidden in the shadows on the old porch swing that Harley and I used to fight over as children.
"Hey, Mel you okay?" I answered awkwardly.
"Yeah, I just needed to get some air," she sighed. I always liked Melody despite her being part of a generation of wolf pack girls that were just a few years too much older for me to click with. Physically, I now surpassed her (complete with age-lines), while Melody remained frozen at the height of her perfection. We had not discussed it but if we wanted to age at a similar rate Solace would have to stop phasing again soon and that thought weighed more heavily on my heart now.
I had grown up so used to the big, ageless men of the pack but seeing Melody so unchanged was like a kick to the gut. I wasn't jealous of her smooth face or perpetually perky breasts, I viewed my body so much differently after having children but after having wasted so many years without Solace I would have given anything for her immortality. Melody had become a tech mogul a few years back, creating an online banking and lending platform, but I didn't covet her money just her immortality and the opportunity to bask in his perfection for the rest of forever.
Despite medical testing from Carlisle and our newest pack doctor Hazel Uley-Varn, we never narrowed down the genetic anomaly that triggered four female wolves. The theory that it had to do with reproduction was disproved twice, first with Melody's mother Anna and then with my own sister-in-law Sammy, who gave birth to my nephew Caleb a few months after my wedding.
"Ready?" Solace asked hugging me from behind.
I nodded against his chest, pulling open the old rickety screen door, the same door that slammed loudly at least three dozens times at every pack event, with children running back and forth as their parents mingled inside. Every inch of this house brought back memories. The faded worn wallpaper brought me back to games of the floor is on fire with Jessy, Chloe and Harley. The old couches punched me with memories of Annabelle's outlandish themed birthday parties, where we sat around as she opened piles of presents from Brady.
Standing in the doorway to the kitchen, where Solace and I decided to get married ten years ago, stood Ethan and Taylor both still youthful but darkened with grief. Taylor motioned for us to go upstairs but Solace stopped to hug them both. At the kitchen table Annabelle sat in Brady's lap, her face hidden in the crook of his neck. Ace, the oldest of her three sons, sat on the floor behind them looking off into space, his head rested on his forearms. Ethan's wife Elena and her oldest Emmett, sat across from them, both welcoming us warmly if not a bit distractedly. Will Black stood stoically at the back door, barely registering our entrance.
"Any updates?" I asked my voice shakier than I felt I had the right to. I stood in a room surrounded by her children and grandchildren, her son and daughter-in-laws, and I felt like a fraud. As if any moment they would lash out at me, and ask me why I was only just now darkening their doorstep.
"She's not completely lucid. She doesn't always remember what year it is or who everyone is but she's awake now so just go along with whatever she says, keep her calm and say your goodbyes," Brady answered with swollen red eyes.
Solace pulled me up the creaking stairs, lined with years of pictures of the Cameron children, grandchildren and the pack. I fingered a picture near the top of 4 or 5 year old me and Harley sitting in Jared's lap as Paul passed out Christmas gifts.
"You looked so damn cute in that picture," Amber sighed, startling me.
She stood tall and statuesque in the middle of the hall, her chocolate brown hair pulled back into bun, her clothes uncharacteristically casual and disheveled. Her supernaturally perfected face was scrunched painfully as if, if she could still cry she would be pouring like a faucet. Without a second thought, letting go of everything but that moment, I ran to her
Years of pain, regret and anger seeped out of every pore. This place and these people were my home.