Tim finally has a long, emotional talk with his estranged mother.

READ PART 1 HERE!

This is the second part of this story. I'd love for any comments on it you might have. I worked hard on this and I'm pretty proud of how it turned out. Enjoy!

Thumbnail image and original concept by  white-ryce


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Tim took a couple of tries to sit up, trying to 'throw' himself up to a sitting position. Resigning to his awkward shape, he instead cradled his belly in one hand and slid off the bed onto his knees, where he was able to pull himself up from there. Sick of constantly pulling the shirt down, he instead zipped up his jacket around it, making it seem like he at least had stuffed a basketball down there.

“God, this whole thing was a nightmare,” he said to the cubs. “I really hope my nerves don't get passed down to you. Be like Daddy, nothing phases him.” One of them kicked out under his hand, prodding a finger while another on his left side tried to turn over. “Oof. Okay, fine, it was my fault. But save some of those for Daddy.”

He plodded heavily out of his old room and down the rickety stairs, seeming much smaller and less stable from the top. He hadn't bothered to stuff his phone back into his tight pockets yet since he still needed to use it. Walking outside, Jessica and Rebecca were absent from their smoke break, but the smell of cigarettes remained. Tim's oversensitive nose was far too irritated by it, so he had to waddle his way down to the end of the driveway to escape it.

He had just enough signal to look up the number of a cab service on his smartphone. But before he could actually finish dialing the number, he jumped reflexively at a hand on his shoulder and leapt aside as fast as he could. Aunt Bethany stood barefoot on the wet grass, a concerned look on her face and her hands held up defensively.

“Baby, baby, it's just me!” She said, her own chest heaving. She laughed and put a hand to her head. “LORD, Timmy, you almost scared the hell outta me just now!”

“Sorry Aunt Bethy,” Tim said, letting the phone fall to his side. “I'm not thinking…I've got a lot on my mind right now.”
“I know you do, baby.” Bethany set a gentle paw on his shoulder. Tim looked down at his feet, or at least what he could see of them. He held his tail in his hands and wrung the end of it like a towel. The fur on the end of it was worn thin from years of that habit.

Bethany pulled him into an awkward hug, needing to lean over his belly to wrap her arms around his torso. Tim bent over and returned the gesture, burying his face into the warm fur of her neck.

“I'm about as tired of my sisters makin' fools of themselves as you are. But Mary's had a hard couple years. And I don't think she ever stopped lovin' you. She just don't know how to, anymore.”

“That's almost worse,” Tim said. “She just stood by while dad threw me out. It took her ten years to want to apologize, and now she can't even speak to me?” He balled his fists and glared at the ground, new tears welling up in his eyes. “I'm pregnant, alright? It's weird. I know it's weird. But they're still my kids and...and she can't get over her….her fucking….”

Tim sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. He held up his phone and continued to dial the number of the cab company. Bethany gently reached over and pulled his hand away before he could hit 'send' and looked him in the eyes with a heavy expression.

“Baby...You've got to stay.”

“What?” Tim gasped. It was like he'd been slapped. An ugly scowl grew over his face as he began to turn away. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Tim, listen,” Bethany pleaded as she held his shoulder and turned him back to face her. “I know your momma's hurt you, but she's not okay for a while, now. This house has thin little walls and she heard you on the phone. She came talkin to me to try and get you to stay.”

“She…” Tim paused, frozen in place, before he slipped the phone back into his own pocket. “She did?”

“I love my sister, but Mary ain't ever been a very strong woman. But I don't believe for a minute she ever stopped lovin you, baby. She...just needs time.”

Tim sighed, resting a hand on his belly and looking out to the sun setting behind the trees. He let go of his tail, which bobbed lazily behind him like the pendulum of a grandfather clock.

“She's not who I'm worried about.”

“Your momma wouldn't have wanted you here if your daddy was around, Tim,” Bethany said. “Trust me, he won't be bothering you again.”
“But where is he?” Tim pleaded. “He's the kind of guy that'd just show up out of nowhere anyway. But nobody will tell me where he's gone.”

“That's something you need to talk to your momma about, baby. Please, just give her a chance.”

Tim stared at his aunt, unsure of what to say. He remembered what Spencer said, about how he was responsible for more than just himself. He didn't expect to be hurt, even if his father came home, but he couldn't be sure. And was he prepared to let himself willing open to more emotional pain?

“Okay, how about this?” Bethany pulled out a pen from her pocket and wrote on the back of a piece of receipt paper before handing it to him. “I'm stayin another night in the motel off the interstate. There's the address, my phone number, and my room. If you really can't stand it, if you need to get outta here, then you can stay with me and wait for you sweet husband to come take you home.”

Tim stared at the piece of paper before looking up at Bethany, who was wearing a soft and pleading smile. He sighed. As reluctant as he was, it was a comfort to know that at least someone was on his side. And if he put up with living with his parents for 18 years, he could survive one night with just his mother.

“Alright,” he finally relented. “But...please, be on standby for me, okay?”

“Of course, baby.” Bethany stood on the tips of her paws and pecked Tim on the cheek. “You're doin' a good thing.” As she pulled away, she got a mischievous grin on her face. She quickly grabbed the tab of Tim's jacket zipper and began to pull it down.

“Hey hey, what are you doing?” He protested. The cold hit his exposed underbelly as she fully unzipped his jacket.

“Now for all I know, I'm gonna have to wait another ten years to meet these little kittens in person, so I gotta spoil them now as best I can.” She bent over at the waist and pulled up Tim's maternity shirt, exposing his belly to the open air. She rubbed the sides of it and gave the unborn cubs four kisses, one in each section of Tim's stomach. He glanced around, mortified that one of his other aunts might see them, but Bethany didn't seem to care as she prodded some of the squirming babies back through Tim's tight skin. She stood, smiling at him while gently scratching a small spot beneath his popped bellybutton. Despite the embarrassment, Tim found himself quietly purring at the sensation, especially as Bethany rubbed her hand through the fur of his upper stomach.

“Your momma used to love this, too. Maybe ya'll have something to talk about after all.”

Tim immediately tugged his stretchy shirt down as soon as Bethany took her hands off of him. He tried in vain to reach down far enough to zip his jacket back together before she mercifully did it for him. Even then, she rested a gentle hand on his belly as he spoke.

“I'm still not sure she'll talk to me at all, yet. She cried the day I came out, but not the day dad threw me out. I can only imagine what she thinks now.”

“That was a long time ago, baby.”
“...She's got a lot to make up for.”
“I think she knows. But give her the chance, okay?”
“...Fine.” Tim begrudgingly admitted. “But mostly for your sake, alright?”

“That's fine, baby.” She patted Tim's belly and ran a hand down the side. “Now you take care of these sweet things until I see you again.” Bethany bent down again to talk directly into his stomach. “Now ya'll need to take care of your daddy too, you hear me? He's gonna have enough problems once you come outta there.”

“I'm Papa,” Tim explained, smiling warmly. “Spencer is Daddy.”
“Now ain't that the sweetest thing I ever heard,” Bethany said, beaming. “Yknow, I came today hoping I'd get to see you. If nothing else, you made this old cat happy.”
“I'm glad, Aunt Bethy,” Tim said, glancing up at the house. “At least one of us will be.”


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Tim slept about as well as he expected. He had long gotten used to sleeping comfortably while pregnant, but it had always been in a larger bed with his husband at his side. Instead, for whatever reason, a powerful nostalgia made him want to sleep in his own childhood bed in the corner of his old room. It was a strange, alien feeling to be in the same bed, but in a very different time. A kind of warped familiarity. He guessed there were parts of his childhood he still wanted to hold onto.

He faced the wall his bed was pressed up against, his exposed stomach brushing gently against the wall. Tim had thrown off most of the covers in what little sleep he got. While the occasional kick or jab from his litter wouldn't wake him up anymore, he still spent most of the night lying awake in the dark room and fearing the heavy, booted footsteps making their way upstairs. Tim's father was as conspicuous as a tornado, so the quiet house was a good sign.

Building up some arm strength, Tim turned his heavy self over with the same grace as flipping a pancake. The light coming through the window was the gray of early-morning or an overcast afternoon. He blinked, fully willing to drift off back to sleep, but unable to do so since his eyes were committed to staying open. At least one of the cubs would grow up to be a morning person, already kicking and pushing against the swell of his belly with far too much energy. Even his (her?) calm siblings had enough of it and were trying to shift to the other end of his womb, without finding much room to do so.

“We've only got two cribs at home,” Tim said in a croaky, tired voice. “So you're gonna need to learn to share space sometime.” The energetic cub kicked out, pushing a small bump across the surface of Tim's furry stomach. “Especially you, buddy. I'm gonna know who you are the first day home from the hospital.”

The static, old sound of the doorbell downstairs jerked Tim back to his senses. He couldn't even imagine what visitors would be around, unless it were an extremely late family member, set to come by the reunion. Sticking his legs out first, Tim groaned as he pulled himself up to a sitting position, rubbing his left hip to alleviate the pressure it had been under all night. Ready to go check the door himself, Tim stood and crossed the room.

He stopped once he reached the doorknob and caught sight of his belly. Shuffling back to the bed, he awkwardly threw on the white maternity shirt from yesterday. At home, he could walk around shirtless without a care in the world. At home, he could complain about his ankles hurting and beg for belly rubs from Spencer. At home, he could play music to the unborn litter and let the older kids listen in. But he wasn't at home. Not for a long time. So he elected for 'decency,' to hide himself. From his own mother, no less. Grumbling at the absurdity of it all, he grabbed his pants to put on later and walked out of his bedroom, freely showing the furry, round mass poking from under the shirt.

At the bottom of the landing was his mother, still in a nightgown from the day before, counting out exact change for a teenage, canine delivery boy that held a huge pizza box in one hand. Tim was ready to slip past, unnoticed, before he watched his mother counting out change from her small purse. The total was 19.90, as Tim saw on the box, but his mother handed over nothing but a single twenty. The delivery dog looked down at it and smiled warmly, but very conspicuously didn't wag his tail. Tim groaned, digging his wallet out of his pants and forcing his way into the doorway.

“Mom, for god's sake,” he grumbled, slipping a ten dollar bill to the delivery driver. “Thanks a ton. Sorry we're so far out of the way.”

“No problem, man!” The canine said, genuinely wagging his tail that time. Tim smiled, reminded of the old wolf boyfriend he had before Spencer. The driver couldn't help but glance curiously at Tim's protruding belly, but only shrugged before handing over the pizza and bounding off with his extra tip.

Stepping back inside, he pushed the door shut with his foot. Before he could turn to hand the box to his mother, he caught whiff of the odor and nearly drowned in his own watering mouth. A smell he hadn't recognized in years came flooding back, as powerful and effective as e it had ever been.

“Did you get...jalapenos on this?” Tim said, slurping back the powerful appetite growing quadruplets had given him. “You hate jalapenos. Nobody liked them but me.” Mary was already in the kitchen, taking a couple of plates from a small cabinet above the sink. She glanced over her shoulder at Tim.

“I know,” she said, a warm smile coming over her tired face. She walked away from the doorway to set the small table with the plates and a couple of drink glasses. Tim, at a loss, simply carried the pizza into the kitchen and sat it down in the middle of the table. Taking the far seat, Mary sat adjacent to him and flipped open the box, spinning it so the jalapeno side faced him. He gulped heavily, the steam rising up to lightly wet the fur of his face.

“Uhh...” Tim paused, arms upraised to grab a slice of pizza. “Hang on.” Quickly standing, he shuffled over to the small fridge and surveyed the condiments. Coming up with a combination of A1 Steak Sauce, whipped cream, and some mayonnaise, Tim sat down and ravenously devoured every bit of jalapeno pizza in one huge bite after another, stuffing his face until there wasn't anything left.

“The cravings hit me hard, too,” Mary said, raising a coy eyebrow. Tim glanced down at the half-empty pizza box and blushed underneath his fur. He tugged down his shirt again, now lightly stained with steak sauce, embarrassed as his uncontrolled hunger.

“I....I, uh....No, I just....I liked that stuff before,” he lied. Using one finger, Tim scooped up some of the leftover toppings and melted cheese scattered around the inside of the box and threw them into his mouth. Mary smiled, standing up.

“What do you want to drink?”
“No, I'll ge-” Tim started to say before his mother set a hand on his shoulder to keep him from getting up from his chair.

“No, I'll get them,” she said, a strange air to her voice. Taking her glass to the counter, she pulled out a bottle of lemonade to fill it.

“Just water...Water's fine,” Tim said. It was odd to be doted on by his mom again after so many years.

“Are you sure?” She asked, setting the lemonade back on the top shelf. “I bought some of those local sodas you like. The fruity one that tastes like watermelon?”

“You did? Um...thanks, but no thanks.”
“You....Do you still like them?”
“No, I do. They're my favorite, I love them. But...” Tim crossed his arms over his chest. “...I'm cutting down on caffeine.”

“Oh, right. Of course you are,” Mary said, chuckling. She shut the fridge door and took a seat at the table with her drink. She daintily took a slice of pizza from the box, wincing slightly at its heat, and set it on her plat, where she delicately cut into it with a fork and knife. She chewed quietly, sighing deeply while making satisfied 'mmms' in the back of her throat. After a few more bites, and with half a pizza slice left, she set the utensils down and took a long draft of her lemonade before setting it down.

The two sat quietly at the table, listening to nothing but the occasional gust of wind blowing against the windows and a couple birdcalls. Tim's stomach gurgled quietly, a sound he hoped only he could hear. Finally, his mother looked up from her plate and stared into his eyes, taking in his face like he were a work of art.

“I missed you,” she said, weakly.

Tim looked away and nodded, not quite sure what to say. Did she miss him? Or did she miss the straight Tim she thought she raised? He had always felt more fondly toward his mother than his father, but even he was surprised at the distrust inside of him.

“What are you doing getting pizza this early in the morning?” he asked, changing the subject. Marry laughed a little in response.

“Sweetie, it's almost 12:30.”
Tim whipped his head to glance at the stove clock, having left his phone upstairs to charge. He turned his head back, whiskers twitching.
“O-oh. Sorry.”

“You always liked to sleep late when you felt stressed. I wasn't about to wake you.”
“Oh. Thanks.” Tim turned one of his ears to listen to the rest of the house. “Is anyone else up?”

“They all left after you went to bed last night.”
“Oh, so who are you expecting?”
Mary sighed. She shrugged, taking another sip of lemonade before looking off down the hall and out the windows beside the door.

“Nobody...”

“Wait, that was it?” Tim asked. “Just...the aunts? Your sisters? What about mine?”
Mary set the cup down and stared into it, her tired eyes glazing over at the surface of her drink.

“We haven't talked to your sisters in about five years,” she said. “They...None of them were very pleased about...what happened.” Mary sighed, shivering like a brittle leaf. Her ears drooped as she thought backward. “The oldest litter, Maria, Denise, and Helen, were all off in college. By the time they heard you had been thrown out...they just didn't really come back. Gloria and Eliza came back for their summer breaks sometimes, but it wasn't ever for very long. Neither of them wanted to talk to your father and I, so they left as soon as they got the opportunity. And...Abigal and Ruth were the most angry. Ruth moved out with her boyfriend a few weeks later. And one morning, we...we woke up and Abigail was gone. Nothing left in her room but posters. Not even a note.”

“Wow,” Tim said, a coldness in his voice. “Must have been hard.”

“It was...” she said into her glass. “But it's no excuse. I...we were confused. We didn't understand what God wanted from us...from you. If...if David had just given me some time to think...”

“Where is he?” Tim said, glancing around the kitchen and listening to the house again. “When is dad coming home?”

Mary sniffed once and wiped her nose. She looked up at her son, smiling with reddened and puffy eyes.

“Tim, I...You can't imagine how good it is to see you, sweetie. I didn't even think you were going to come.” She swallowed hard and took another gulp of her drink. “You've...You've grown so much. You look like my father, now. Always had a serious look on his face, but his eyes were always soft, always kind. What are you doing now? I got your address from Bethany, but what...what kind of life do you have? You look so good!”

“Uhh...” Tim scratched the back of his head, exposing some of his hidden belly in the process. It felt nice to be complemented by his mother, but he was unsure of what he could say to her. “Well, I...I'm living in...Los Angeles now with...my...my...” he swallowed nervously, but hardened himself to look Mary in the eye. “My husband. Spencer. I took his last name, Bradshaw. He's...he's a...” Tim instinctively laid a hand on the underside of his belly. “Well, you know what he does. And I'm...actually, I'm a music producer at Deepside Records, now. I'm...I haven't been working lately, but I go out to bars and clubs and concerts and look for local bands who might fit our label.”

“That's...” Mary said, eyes widening. “Wow. Anyone I might have heard?”

“Maybe, I think. There's a new single on the radio by a group called Left Hand Down. I helped get them signed a few years ago. They're doing really well, everyone's happy for them.”

“Who ever thought all that music would turn into something?” Mary said, hopefully.

“I did, for one,” Tim said. He was more than happy to talk about his job, but fairly defensive about it. He had to be to stay competitive.

“Are you making good money?” Mary asked, taking another bite of her cooling pizza.

Tim snorted. “Enough to raise all these...” he trailed off, then cleared his throat before starting again. “We're doing well for ourselves.”

“That's such a relief,” Mary said, another shaky smile coming to her face. “I was...so scared what would happen on your own. I didn't know...”

“You didn't seem very worried at the time,” Tim said, the edge coming back to his voice. Mary looked into her glass again and said nothing. “Dad even less. Where is he?” While keeping his voice strong, it was difficult to hide the fear behind it.

“I was hoping you'd come, out of everyone else. I just...I just wanted you to forgive me. I was lost and I thought what we did was right for you, right for the family...But it took me all this time to see the disgusting thing we did.” She looked up with a line of tears staining her fur dark beneath each eye.

“...Mom...” Tim's malice and distrust quietly trickled away as he watched his mother drip tears into her lemonade, her thin shoulders heaving under the weight of ten years of guilt, alone. Tim stood and carried his chair over to her side of the table, sitting as close to her as his belly would allow. He put a soft paw on her shoulder and pulled her closely in for a hug. Mary collapsed into him, wrapping her arms around his neck as if she were drowning, and cried quietly into his shoulder.

“It wasn't what God wanted. God didn't want us to throw you out. He would have loved you just as much as we should have, no matter who you are. He wanted us to love you and care for you and...and...to be our son...our...our little cub...” She pulled him in tighter. “I'm so sorry, Timothy.”

“It's okay,” Tim whispered, patting his mother on the back like he did with his own children back home. Mary felt bony, small, like he were holding something brittle and fragile in his arms. Eventually, she pulled away, wiping her eyes off and staring at Tim through the glassy veil of tears.

“Mom...” he began, much more softly than before. He kept one hand on her upper arm. “Mom...where's dad?”
Mary blinked, dislodging another tear from her eye to travel down her face and cling to her whiskers.

“Your father...David...” She swallowed, looking away. “Your father committed suicide two months ago.”

A cold, electric shock traveled through Tim's entire body. It felt like his bones had been fused together. All the breath in his lungs emptied as the pit of his stomach dropped out. His eyes were so widened they were cold. He had to pry his fingers off his mother's arm in order to sit back in his chair and stare at the floor in a dazed shock. What struck Tim more wasn't a feeling of sadness he might have expected. It was more of an ending that had come too quickly. Too abrupt, like an anticlimax to the dramatic life of Tim and his father.

“Wuh...Whe...W-What?” Tim could only stammer.

“David...was...a complicated man,” Mary said, in a low and quiet murmur. “You're a lot like him, in some ways. He was strong, determined, and very hard to talk out of a decision. But...something about those same qualities made him...” Mary sighed, pushing her plate and glass away. “By the time you came out to us, I realized that he wasn't the man I fell in love with anymore. But he still loved his family, in his own way. It was the most important thing in the world to him. And...that was taken away from him, and by his own hand. I suppose he just couldn't live with himself for much longer.”

Mary sighed, her eyes conspicuously dry. Taking a napkin from her side of the table, she blew her nose into it before folding the napkin and neatly setting it on the plate.

“I had no love left for your father. The most he had ever given me in our marriage was our children, and it was he that drove them away from us. But I do feel sorry for him. For a man so sure of God's plan for him, he was very quick to lose hope.”

She looked up at Tim and, unexpectedly, smiled.

“'The Lord giveth and The Lord taketh away.' He may have taken away my husband,” Mary leaned in and kissed Tim on the cheek. “But he gave me back my son.” Surprising Tim immensely, she slipped a hand under his shirt and rubbed the soft fur over his pregnant belly.

“And with grandchildren,” his mother finished, beaming.

“Uhhhh...” Tim mumbled, suddenly deeply embarrassed. He nearly slapped his own mother's hand away before simply backing up out of her reach. “I...I don't...what about yesterday?”

Mary laughed, smiling more broadly than before.

“Yesterday, you scared me to death! I had no idea what was going on. When my only son shows up after ten years pregnant, I think I deserved a minute to adjust.” As her laughter subsided, her voice dropped to a more serious tone. “But it's true. At first, I didn't know what to think. Everything I wanted to say to you had unexpectedly left me behind. And I even agreed with Jessica, at first. It seemed unnatural and strange. But...when I saw Bethany rubbing you and laughing and joking with you, I thought 'Why isn't that me?' 'Why isn't it me sharing that moment with him?' I didn't care anymore how strange it was.” Mary gave a pleading look up into her son's eyes. “Could you at least let me make up that chance?”

Tim paused, thinking. Then, while smiling bashfully, he scooted his chair forward across the tile floor and, for the first time, rolled up his shirt to totally expose his tight and sensitive belly, rising and falling softly with his breath and momentarily twitching from a movement or two inside. Mary watched for a moment or two before catching a movement from a spot near the apex of its swell. She quickly set her hand against it and felt the baby inside kick against her palm with far more energy than an unborn child should have. Mary brought up her other hand to her mouth in a silent gasp as new, ecstatic tears came to her eyes.

“I...I know that...It's strange...” Tim began before his mother's shaking head interrupted him.

“I don't care,” she said. “I've been waiting for this moment for a long time. Just because it's coming from you instead of one of your sisters doesn't make any difference to me. I just...I...” She took a deep breath and sighed before finishing, “I'm going to be a grandmother.”

“Mom...you already are,” Tim said. “This is my second litter. The first is back at home. Three boys.” Mary said nothing, but the beaming shine in her eyes was more than words could convey.

“And...and you said you've got...you've got four in here?” She asked, amazed. She set another hand on his belly and explored the surface with both palms. She laughed and shook her head. “You poor baby. You got it from me, I'll bet. I could barely handle your older sisters.” She paused, a thought crossing her mind, before a concerned look crossed her face.

“How are you going to-”

“C-section,” Tim finished. “It's what we did last time, too.”
Mary got off her chair and knelt down in front of Tim on the floor. She softly laid an ear against his belly and listened closely. Tim had heard it himself and hope she was as thrilled by the sound of the heartbeats as he was. She evidently was as she welled up with more tears and took to gently kissing around his bellybutton.

“And you're so ripe too!” Mary exclaimed. “You need to get back home before the buns are ready.”

“Spencer's on the way right now. I'm- We're going to be fine.” He set his hands against the sides of his belly, rubbing the children awake to interact with their grandmother.

“Mom...”
Mary pulled her ear away and looked up at Tim.
“Mom...I forgive you.”

A wave of satisfaction came over her face at the sound of those words. Getting choked up again, she nodded, unable to speak.

“I never really felt comfortable in this family, not with dad around. I never felt like I belonged. But...with Spencer and our kids...I finally feel like I have a family to belong to. And I would really like it if you became a part of it, too.”

Mary's eyes widened in shock before a beaming smile took over her face. In twenty minutes, she looked younger than she had for a long, long time. Standing up from the ground, she threw her arms over Tim, who in turn buried his face in his mother's fur, smelling the familiar scent of her he had been without for far too long.

“I missed you, Mom,” he said.
“I missed you too, Timothy,” she said.

After migrating to the living room, the two sat on the couch for hours more, catching up on the years they had missed, trading child-raising stories, and with Mary doting on her son with belly scratches and paw-rubs. Just as the sun was setting at the end of the day, Tim heard the familiar sound of breaks badly needing some tuning and the momentary spluttering of an engine that needed an oil change.

Pulling himself off the couch, Tim leaned backward, stretching out the sore muscles he'd been sitting on for hours. One hand on his belly, he held out the other to his mother to help her up.

“I can't wait to introduce you two,” Tim said, with a wide, toothy grin.