Lowell picked a table with a good view of the street so that he could see Valerie walk in. He didn’t want his eyes off her for a second. This was his moment—no—their moment.
Valerie pulled up in front of Proctor’s Tavern and waved to him through the glass. She had her bright red coat on even though it was one of the first brisk days in Kalamazoo.
Lowell rehearsed all the things he wanted to say to her even though he had been doing it for the past five years. All the times he admired her expression when she read something she liked. The way she slightly bit her lip while she sketched. The way she felt like home even when they sat together in silence. Until now, he was too scared to say these things, but he needed to know where they stood.
Valerie brought two pints to the table.
“One for you.” She slid the frosty glass across the table to him. “One for me.” She raised her glass toward him and waited.
He raised his and said, “To the future.”
She smirked, “Okay. Tell me more.”
They clinked glasses and she took a gulp.
“I’m weighing an opportunity in Detroit, but every time I think about it, I think about what I’d be leaving behind, and there’s something here that matters too much to me to leave. Someone, rather.”
Valerie coughed and covered her mouth.
Lowell pondered how awkwardly that all came out.
“Look, I know Poison played at Wings, but come on, man. There’s nothing here. Who are you even thinking about? You meet someone.”
He fixed his eyes on hers, “I am thinking about you. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
She folded her cocktail napkin into smaller and smaller squares and started tearing it apart. “Detroit’s such a great opportunity though.”
“You’re not there.”
Valerie pounded the rest of her beer, and gently set the glass down on the table. “I need to go.”
“You just got here.”
She shook her head and picked up her purse. “I can’t talk to you about this. I can’t give you what you want. I’m sorry.”
Lowell watched Valerie walk back out the door. She didn’t look back even as she slid into her front seat, slammed the door and pulled away. It seemed like the distance between Lowell and that door had expanded like he was in a funhouse, but this wasn’t fun.
#
Tired of sitting alone at the table, Lowell moved to the bar. Easier to pound the drinks and at least he could watch TV. The ticker at the bottom said something about a girl going missing in Iowa on the last full moon. News didn’t usually get to Lowell, but that story gave him a pang in his gut. So much loss in such a short time.
The bartender passed him a beer unexpectedly.
“From her.” The bartender pointed to a brunette a couple of seats over.
Lowell waved and she moved to the seat next to him. Her thigh bumped his, but she didn’t pull away. She introduced herself as Tala and said that she was new in town.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said. “Girls are disappearing.”
“I’m not afraid. Are you?”
Conversation flowed freely enough, and Lowell felt buzzed enough that taking this girl home instead of Valerie seemed okay. She looked harmless enough with her light brown hair, corduroy skirt, and striped polo shirt baring just a glimpse of midriff.
When they kissed, she tasted like candy, and something else underneath, something earthy. He detected a sparkle in her eyes that might mean she had just the right amount of crazy to be good in bed, but would he be able to get rid of her? That could be a problem for future Lowell.
#
Lowell woke up naked, but at least he was in his bed, in his apartment. A puff of gray fur floated through the bright morning light and out the window. He wasn’t sure where it could have come from. He didn’t have a pet.
He heard a toilet flush in the next room and realized he wasn’t alone. Maybe Tala stayed over. Awkward. What if she was uglier than he remembered.
The bathroom door creaked, and Lowell pulled the covers up to his chin. Feigning sleep often got him out of awkward situations.
Through slitted eyes, he saw her long legs extending from under one of his band t-shirts. Actually, it was a Poison tour shirt, to be exact. One of the perks of being a DJ meant getting extra t-shirt prizes. He watched the hem of the shirt and the tops of her thighs come closer to the bed until she stretched out beside him and became a pink blur next to his face.
“I know you’re awake.”
“How?”
“Your smell.” She buried her nose in the top of his hair and he could feel her inhaling. It felt soothing in an odd way.
“What do I smell like asleep?”
“Like cookies.”
“What do I smell like awake?”
“Mmm, like fuck.”
She straddled him over the blankets and he opened his eyes. “Whoa. I’m a coffee first kind of guy.”
“I know. You say it on your show all the time, and I happen to know the best place for breakfast right around the corner.” She motioned toward the window and waved with her fingers as if she could summon the perfect sidewalk café.
#
After a leisurely breakfast with lots of coffee and canoodling, Lowell walked Tala through the nearby park.
As they passed a pile of leaves, Tala jumped in and rolled around. Lowell thought he heard a growl, but dismissed it.
“You’re getting grass stains all over your jeans!” Lowell warned.
Tala didn’t care. She kept rolling until she was covered in green smudges and had bits of leaves all over her sweater and in her hair.
Lowell also noticed a piece of gray fur floating through the air. He didn’t see any dogs nearby. Odd.
Tala insisted on having contact with him at all times if she wasn’t rolling around. She didn’t even like them to use the bathroom at separate times.
When it came time for him to head to the studio, he kissed her and gave her a hug. “It’s been such a great day.”
“I feel the same way.”
“Wait up for me?”
“Sure,” she said with a naughty smile.
#
Lowell hopped into his chair at the studio and began arranging his notes and queuing up albums. He also reviewed the updates on a giveaway for Poison Tickets at Wings. Several listeners who everyone privately referred to as “prize pigs” found a way to game the call-in system to tip the odds in their favor, but Lowell didn’t care so much about that. He really enjoyed the requests or the people who just wanted to chat. Those calls made his night much more interesting.
“Hey everybody, it’s Lowell here on KMXV and I’ll be keeping you company until midnight tonight. Don’t forget to call in your requests. In about an hour, I’ll be taking calls to give out these Poison tickets for the show at Wings. You don’t want to miss that!”
Lowell took himself off the air and played Every Rose Has It’s Thorn. Seemed right. He continued to try to arrange some more random pieces of paper on his desk when the phone rang. He picked up, “KMXV what can I get for you?”
“Make Me Lose Control,” a husky female voice answered.
“Steamy. Is that dedicated to anyone?”
“He knows,” and she hung up.
“I see, I see,” Lowell set that one up next and continued with his night.
By the end of his shift, he’d given away 20 tickets to the Poison show and a bunch of t-shirts. Not too bad.
#
Lowell left the station and waved to his replacement as he walked past him. He headed back to his place with a bounce in his step. Maybe everything was coming together just like it needed to.
Then Valerie waved him down.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” he said.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said and I care about you too. I’m scared of jumping into a relationship and having it fall apart, but maybe I need to be more open to risks.”
“Shit.”
“Huh?”
“It’s just that I’m kind of involved with this other girl and we’re seeing where it goes. I’m sorry.”
“I guess just let me know if you change your mind.”
She stroked his cheek and kissed him, but pulled away when they heard a growl and something slam in an alley.
“I had better get home,” Lowell said.
Valerie got in her car and waved at him as he got into his and they both pulled away.
#
The phone started ringing at 3 a.m. and wouldn’t stop. Tala hadn’t gotten in until a couple of hours earlier and insisted on taking a two hour bath, so Lowell only had fitful sleep during that time. When he picked up the received and yawned into it, he heard Mitch from the studio, “Hey man, you girl Valerie is dead.”
“What?” Lowell sat straight up. Fluff balls floated in the air around him.
“Her neighbor found her in her apartment. Looked like she had been mauled by a dog.”
“Oh my god,” Lowell covered his mouth to muffle his cries. He swallowed and said, “I’ll call you back later, ok?” And slammed the receiver down.
He looked down at Tala, still asleep, looking innocent. She had a few small scratches on her arm that could have been from leaves or branches. Nothing too intense.
Lowell went into the bathroom and took a brief glance into the tub. It was mostly clean. A little extra fur and used razors. He spied a pile of towels on the floor and when he went through those, he noticed an alarming amount of blood.
#
“Yeah, I have really thick hair and sometimes it’s hard to get it off without cutting myself. Thanks for making me feel self-conscious.”
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” Lowell said.
He still kind of wondered though. Not that he really suspected Tala, but who could be out there in the streets killing women, especially a woman he knew.
He didn’t know how he felt about staying with Tala. He loved her. He wanted to go to Detroit with her and she was down for that. He just felt like she had a mysterious side that he didn’t fully understand. Maybe it was harmless. Maybe it was that normal mystery every couple experiences, or was it something more sinister?
#
Lowell cleared up his desk so the next DJ would have a nice workspace. He set aside the basket with the latest giveaway stuff in it, and queued up his next couple of songs. Room for one more when the phone rang. He picked it up and a familiar woman’s voice said, “Play Make Me Lose Control.”
“Eric Carmen, sounds good. Who’s this for?”
“He knows.”
Lowell felt a chill through his blood, but he set it up on the turntable, and continued his end of shift duties.
#
Lowell came home to the entire apartment illuminated with candles. Tala wore a gray satin sheath dress, her hair in a sleek chignon. She set the table with fresh pressed linens, and Cornish game hens roasted to golden perfection sat on entree plates at their seats. They each had glass with a prawn cocktail and a water glass for her, a champagne flute for him.
After he allowed her to seat him and poured his champagne, she announced, “I’m pregnant!”
Snippets of his previous meeting with his boss regarding market uncertainty and no guarantees of a promotion swam through his mind, but how could he let that detract from this magical moment.
“When? When are you due?”
“A few months.”
Lowell choked on his wine. After he dabbed his mouth with a napkin, he said, “That’s soon.”
“Mmmhmm.”
“Boy? Girl?”
“Yes.”
Lowell let that one sink in.
“We’re going to need a bigger place. Sad. I thought this one was so cozy. I could roll in the shag carpet all day, but these little ones will need some space of their own. What did you hear about the promotion?”
“Eh, that. Management loves me—”
“Of course they do!”
“And the Love Doctor has been here longer and he wants the slot. They didn’t say he’s going to get it. They haven’t decided.”
Tala crossed her arms across her chest, “Really? That guy?”
“He’s not that bad.”
“He took his name from that crazy surgeon in Ohio. The one who mutilated ladies.”
“Tala, please don’t do this.”
Tala’s eyes welled up with tears and she left the table.
Lowell looked down at his game hen and over to his prawns. It seemed like he’d disappointed these creatures who had generously given their lives so he could be sustained to do what, exactly?
He finished his champagne and tried to work on his food. A few minutes later, Tala came back up, refilled his champagne and sat down again, dabbing her eyes.
He blinked and when he opened his eyes again, it was daytime.
Tala had cleared the table and left him a pot of coffee in a carafe and a note saying, “Gone shopping. XOXO”
#
“Hey, there’s my number one guy!” The station manager said, as Lowell walked in that afternoon.
“Oh?”
The manager lowered his voice, “Come in my office for a moment.”
Lowell followed him into his small, dark office at the end of the hall and sat in one of the overstuffed chairs. Prize plaques covered the walls.
The manager scratched his bald head and said, “I don’t know of a good way to say this, so I’m just gonna say it: The Love Doctor is dead.”
Lowell froze.
“The police called today and said they found him in his apartment, what was left of him. It looked like . . . he had been torn apart. I don’t know who would do something like that. Anyway, if you need the day, I understand.”
“Yeah, I think I’m going to take it,” Lowell said.
His walk back to the apartment felt like a blur. When walked into the living room and found Tala in the kitchen sipping some tea, all she said to him was, “I guess you heard.”
#
Lowell and Tala entered the station owner’s posh penthouse apartment to join the celebration. Executives shook Lowell’s hand. Their girlfriends gave him air kisses.
Lowell smiled and greeted dutifully, but Tala kept asking if he was okay.
Finally, he grumbled, “What do you think? Would you be okay?”
Tala asked someone passing by if there was a place she and Lowell could speak in private, and they motioned toward a den-like space. Tala shut the door and asked Lowell to sit.
“You tell yourself you’re nothing like me. We both know that’s bullshit though. We both need to feel safe. When you go to bed at night, you want to feel safe, right? What’s more fundamental to safety than knowing that the person you love the most loves you back?
I’m not perfect. I know I have my lunar affliction, but everything I’ve done, I’ve done out of love for you. We are a unit, a pack. All I ask is your total loyalty and devotion in exchange for mine. Rejection from you feels like a threat on my life, on the lives of our young. We both know that I only have one way I can respond to that.”
Lowell looked at her swollen belly and back up at her face. Her gray eyes could so easily look cold, but even now, she gazed at him in a soft warm way.
People around him on their way to the upper echelons of whatever part of entertainment attracted them this week threw around words of love and adoration, but this level of genuine sincerity was something he hadn’t experienced since childhood. He also knew she was sincere about the other part. As she appeared now, a very pregnant petite young woman, she seemed mostly harmless, but he had seen enough of her other side to know that she could eviscerate him in seconds too.
Lowell started feeling light headed and leaned forward with his hands on his slightly bent knees. He could feel his palm sweat through the fabric.
Someone knocked on the door and said, “Lowell, we’re ready for pictures out here.”
“But I’m afraid,” he mumbled.
“We’ll be right out,” Tala called. She touched Lowell’s cheek with her palm and gently pulled his face up, “It’s okay. I’m here with you. As long as we’re together we can do anything. It’s you and me against the world.”
She kissed him slowly and took his hand. Then, she opened the door to a crowd of people and camera flashes.
Lowell forced a smile, squeezed Tala’s and and stepped forward into whatever might come next.
About The Author:
Amy Armstrong is a writer and editor. She lives with her boyfriend and three dogs in Aurora, Colorado, United States. She frequently presents at conferences like Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers Colorado Gold and MileHiCon. She has a short story forthcoming in the anthology The Cages We Endure with Grave Belles Press in October of 2026.
I really enjoyed this. You show us the werewolf early, so we know the ending WON'T be "She's a werewolf!" That allows the story to go down a more original road, where lycanthropy is an entree into a world of power and success. It works!