Heartfelt by Lynn Crandall Page A

The small woman smiled warmly at Conrad. “It’s so nice to see you, sir.”
    Conrad grabbed her around the waist and hugged her. “So formal. It’s great to see you, too. How’s your family?” Debra was a human, but he trusted her because she’d been a good friend when he was younger and struggling.
    “They are doing well.” A glare from his mother sent Debra to the kitchen.
    “Son!” Conrad startled at his father’s booming voice. “Great to see you.” He shook Conrad’s hand, than pulled out a chair from the table. “Sit, sit.”
    Debra brought in a lunch of chicken salad with grapes and walnuts wrapped in a spinach tortilla.
    “Thank you, Debra. It looks delicious.” Conrad nodded at her before she slipped back into the kitchen. A twinge of discomfort bit at his midsection. He’d grown up this way, with his parents treating average people as “less thans.” It hadn’t fazed him … until this moment with Debra. He’d known her most of his life. He knew her family. But to his parents she was as much a utility as the electricity that powered their house.
    The bite of wrap suddenly went very dry in his mouth. If he were honest, he’d taken his wealthy lifestyle and all that it meant, including a sense of superiority, for granted. Why was he suddenly growing a conscience?
    No. He wasn’t. Everyone and everything had its place. His was part of the elite class, a were-lynx with privilege. Humans by their nature were sub-class, creatures of their egos.
    “You’re quiet, son. What’s on your mind?” His father studied Conrad’s face.
    “Just enjoying this lunch. I miss Debra’s cooking.” It wasn’t a lie. He did enjoy her cooking. And he sighed with relief that the thought popped up so readily to satisfy his parents’ curiosity. Sharing personal reflection, especially if it involved assessment of life-long beliefs, was not done in his family.
    He caught his parents exchanging a glance. The thoughts he’d planned for the moment that was about to arise slid out of his brain. Why was it so hard to be forthright with these people?
    “You know, the party is only a week away. I hope you’re going to be gracious to our friends. Everyone is so looking forward to seeing you.” His mother, always the coquette, feigned innocence.
    “How many people are you inviting?” He dodged her gaze by taking another bite of his food.
    “I told you. We’re expecting one hundred people. It’s just going to be a little fun gala to celebrate spring.” His mother’s voice was pinched, even though excitement for the party lit up her face.
    Conrad avoided responding by stuffing his mouth with his last bite. The air in the room got dense and the invisible rope around his neck pulled tighter. His eyes scanned from his father’s gaze to his mother’s.
    “You will be there, won’t you, son?” His father leaned against the back of the chair and waited.
    Conrad sat up straight and crossed his arms over his chest. “I will be there.”
    “Wonderful,” his mother cooed. “Rebecca Boylan is excited to meet you.”
    The air in his lungs pinched. “I’m bringing a friend.”
    “A friend? Who?” His father wiped the edges of his mouth. It was an innocuous action, so why did it resonate so sternly with Conrad?
    “Someone you know. Asia Blue.” There. Now they knew. Next, fireworks. Well, there was nothing they could do to him or Asia. He was entitled to bring a date he would enjoy being around, regardless of what his parents thought.
    “Conrad, how could you?” His mother shook her head, dismay pouting her mouth. “You know how we feel about moggies. They’re no better than humans. I didn’t realize you were still seeing that woman.”
    “Son, you could do so much better. This Rebecca is from a good, pure family. Her parents are very wealthy and respected.” His father knitted his brow. “We wonder if the colony you belong to is the best one for you. You joined it when you were so young. Maybe it’s