“This is one of our best,” Alfie said, as he carefully popped the cork on the wine he’d chosen from the vineyard. It was one of his brother Kris’s finest blends, and sure to impress.
I believe Marion is already impressed by your chopping skills, his bear said.
Are you teasing me? Alfie asked as he carefully poured the ruby liquid into two glasses.
Never , his bear replied with a roll of his eyes.
“Here, try this.” Alfie passed a glass of wine to Marion and for an instant, her fingers brushed against his and that familiar electric current raced up his arm.
He wanted to pinch himself to make sure he was awake, and this was real. That he was here, standing in Marion’s kitchen while Charlie played upstairs, the three of them about to have dinner together like...like a family.
Oh, it’s real, his bear told him, bristling with excitement. Gloriously, wonderfully real.
Alfie raised his glass and locked eyes with Marion as she touched her glass to his. “Let’s make a toast to the future,” Alfie said, his voice rough with emotion. Because his future was right here, right now.
And forever more, his bear added.
“To the future, may it be everything we hope for.” She smiled at him and his heart stuttered in his chest.
If only she knows she is everything we hoped for , and so much more , his bear said, equally moved by the moment.
Marion took a sip of her wine and nodded appreciatively.
“Oh, this is good. I mean, I’m not a wine connoisseur or anything.
I usually choose the bottle based on the label.
” She covered her face with her hand, embarrassment coloring her cheeks.
“That must sound terrible when such work has gone into the wine...”
Alfie shook his head. “Not at all, the label is important, it’s like a book cover...” He smiled, watching as she took another sip.
Alfie drank his wine, savoring the familiar taste. He could name the grapes Kris used in the blend and the individual flavors...
But you are not going to, his bear told him.
Marion might want to know, Alfie replied.
Or she might think you are trying too hard, his bear said.
“Do you help at the vineyard at all?” Marion asked, watching him over the over the rim of her glass.
I hope your lips aren’t moving when you talk to me, his bear said.
Oh, Alfie said, recalling what Daisy had told him before he met his mate.
“I help out at harvest time. It’s a tradition,” he said, trying to look at ease as he leaned against the counter.
“You help pick the grapes by hand?” Marion asked, setting her wine glass down as she went to check on dinner, lifting the lid of a pot that filled the kitchen with the aroma of simmering herbs and tomatoes.
“Yes, it’s something I have done since I was nine or ten. We pick the grapes when they are at their best, and then they are processed straight away,” he said, admiring the way his mate moved around the kitchen. The sway of her hips, the way she flicked her hair back from her face.
“So, you trample them with bare feet?” she asked lightly, a teasing glint in her eyes.
Alfie chuckled, “No. Although we tried it once when we were kids. It was...squelchy.”
Marion giggled, the sound making his heart skip. “Squelchy?”
“Not exactly a word you want to associate with wine,” Alfie said, looking around the kitchen. “Do you want me to lay the table?”
“That would be great,” Marion said, gesturing with a wooden spoon. “The silverware is in the drawer there and the plates are in that cupboard.”
Alfie followed her directions and set the table for three while Marion put the finishing touches to dinner. The domestic simplicity of the task filled him with unexpected joy. This was what he wanted, these quiet moments of togetherness, building a life with Marion and Charlie.
“Do you want to call Charlie?” Marion asked, stirring the pot one last time before she turned off the heat.
“Sure,” Alfie left the kitchen, glancing into the living room. It was relatively sparse and uncluttered, as if Marion and Charlie had left their lives behind when they moved here. No family photos, no trinkets, nothing that spoke of their past. Just the essentials and a few books.
“Charlie, dinner is ready,” Alfie called up the stairs, and he smiled to himself at the sound of his footsteps thundering toward the stairs.
“Coming!” Charlie appeared with a slightly crumpled piece of paper clutched in his hand.
“Take it steady,” Alfie warned as Charlie ran down the stairs.
“I never asked all my questions,” he announced, waving the paper triumphantly as he reached the bottom and rushed along the hallway to the kitchen.
“I wondered what you had been doing so quietly up there,” Marion said as Charlie climbed onto his chair and carefully placed the paper beside his plate, smoothing it with his hand.
Well, I suppose this means we won’t have any awkward silences at dinner, Alfie’s bear commented with amusement.
Alfie suppressed a smile as he took his seat, and Marion placed the steaming pot of pasta on the table.
After dishing up a portion for Charlie, she said, “Please, help yourself. There’s plenty.”
“It smells delicious,” Alfie said, his mouthwatering as he inhaled the aroma.
“It’s nothing fancy,” Marion said, but she looked pleased with the comment. “Unlike your wine.” She reached for her glass and took a sip.
“I can’t take any credit for the wine,” Alfie replied. “Except for knowing where my brother keeps the good stuff.”
Marion covered her mouth as she nearly choked on her wine and Alfie shrugged and grinned, happy he’d made her laugh. It was such a good sound to hear.
“Are you ready for my questions?” Charlie patted his piece of paper.
“Okay, ask away,” he said to Charlie, unfolding his napkin and placing it in his lap.
Charlie took a deep breath, his eyes serious as he picked up his fork. “First question: How old were you when you started growing things?”
“I was about five,” Alfie answered, watching as Charlie carefully wrote something on his paper. “My mom gave me my own little patch in the garden. I grew carrots, but they came out all twisted and funny-looking.”
He twirled pasta around his fork and took a bite. The flavors burst across his tongue. The tomato sauce was rich, the herbs fragrant and the pasta perfectly cooked.
“This is delicious,” he complimented Marion, who ducked her head slightly, a blush coloring her cheeks.
She is so beautiful. His bear sighed.
“Do plants have feelings?” Charlie asked, already moving to his next question, fork suspended halfway to his mouth.
Alfie considered this thoughtfully. “Not like people do, but they do respond to their environment. They can sense light and turn toward it. Some plants even release chemicals when they’re being eaten by insects to warn other plants.”
“So they talk to each other?” Charlie’s eyes widened.
“In their own way, yes,” Alfie nodded.
Marion smiled across the table, adding, “That’s why Alfie talks to his plants at the garden center. They respond to his voice.”
“And his plant puns,” Charlie giggled as he eyed Alfie’s shirt.
“Plants have a sense of humor, too,” Alfie said, glancing down at his shirt, glad he hadn’t spilled his dinner on it.
As they ate, Charlie methodically worked his way down his list. Why do leaves change color in fall? How do bees make honey? What’s the biggest plant in the world?
Alfie answered the questions one by one, happy to pass on his knowledge. But happier still to see Charlie so animated.
Marion remained mostly quiet, occasionally adding a comment or gently reminding Charlie to eat between questions. It was as if she were content to simply sit there and enjoy the moment.
If Charlie is happy, then Marion is happy, his bear observed sagely.
Alfie understood that completely. Charlie’s happiness and wellbeing had become important to him, too.
As they finished the main course, Marion rose to clear their plates. “Who’s ready for dessert? I made apple crumble.”
“Me!” Charlie exclaimed, finally setting down his question sheet.
Marion returned with three bowls of warm crumble topped with vanilla ice cream that was already beginning to melt. As they dug in, the conversation shifted.
“Do you enjoy living in Bear Creek?” Charlie asked, this time without consulting his paper.
“I do,” Alfie replied, savoring the sweet-tart flavor of the apples. “I’ve lived here my whole life.”
“Have you ever seen a wolf or a bear?” Charlie asked, eyes wide with excitement.
Alfie nearly choked on his dessert but managed to swallow smoothly. “Yes, I have,” he answered truthfully, though not elaborating that he’d seen them primarily in mirrors and family gatherings.
When have you ever seen me in a mirror? his bear asked indignantly.
You know what I mean, Alfie answered.
“I would love to see a wolf and a bear,” Charlie said dreamily, scraping his spoon around his empty bowl.
Marion cleared her throat. “I think perhaps Alfie could give you some lessons on staying safe around wild animals. The mountains have plenty of wildlife.”
“I would love to,” Alfie agreed, grateful for the slight change in subject. “It’s important to know how to behave if you encounter them in the wild.”
Charlie opened his mouth, presumably to ask another question, but it transformed into a wide yawn instead.
“I think it’s time for bed,” Marion said, noting the drooping of Charlie’s eyelids.
“But I’m not tired,” Charlie protested, only to betray himself with another enormous yawn.
“Bedtime,” Marion repeated firmly. “You’ve had a big day. And you have school tomorrow.”
Charlie sighed dramatically but slid off his chair. He paused, looking hopefully at Alfie. “Would you come up and say goodnight?”
Alfie glanced at Marion and caught the moment of hesitation in her eyes before she nodded her consent.
“I’ll be right up,” Alfie promised as Charlie trudged from the room.
Together, Marion and Alfie cleared the table in companionable silence. Their hands brushed as they loaded the dishwasher, each touch sending a spark through him. The air between them felt charged with all the things they’d left unsaid, questions far more complex than Charlie’s innocent list.
“I’m ready!” Charlie called down the stairs.
“Shall I?” Alfie asked, wanting to make sure she was completely okay with it.
“Of course,” she replied, although there was a hesitant edge to her voice.
He climbed the stairs, each step filling him with a bittersweet ache. How he wished this was his home, that Charlie and Marion were already his family. His bear rumbled in agreement, impatient for what they both knew was inevitable.
“Thanks for answering all my questions,” Charlie said sleepily as Alfie went into his room and sat on the edge of the bed.
“Anytime,” Alfie replied, meaning it completely. “That’s what I’m here for.”
Charlie’s eyes were fighting to stay open. “Will you come back tomorrow?”
“That’s up to your aunt,” Alfie answered.
“She likes you,” Charlie mumbled, his voice thick with approaching sleep. “I can tell.”
Alfie smiled, gently tucking the comforter around Charlie’s shoulders. “I like her, too. And you.”
“Good,” Charlie sighed, his eyes finally closing. “We like you back.”
Alfie sat there for a moment longer, watching as Charlie’s breathing evened out into sleep. Then he quietly stood and made his way back downstairs, each step taking him closer to Marion.
He found her in the kitchen, pouring more wine into their glasses. She looked up as he entered, a question in her eyes.
“He’s already asleep,” Alfie said softly.
Marion nodded, handing him a glass. “Would you like to sit outside for a bit?”
They stepped onto the back porch, where the first stars were beginning to appear in the darkening sky. The scent of night-blooming jasmine hung heavy in the air, intoxicating and sweet. Alfie breathed it in as he took a seat next to Marion.
“How are you liking Bear Creek?” Alfie asked, his voice low to match the intimacy of the moment.
“A lot,” Marion replied, her profile illuminated by the soft glow from the kitchen windows. “More than I expected to, actually. It already feels like home.”
“It’s a great place to raise a child,” Alfie said, wishing he could raise a child or two with Marion.
Suddenly, a streak of light blazed across the sky—a shooting star, brilliant and fleeting.
“Make a wish,” Alfie whispered, turning to find Marion already looking at him.
Time seemed to slow as their eyes held. Marion set her glass down on the small table between them, and Alfie did the same. Neither spoke as they leaned toward each other, drawn by a force as ancient and inevitable as the stars above them.
Their lips met, tentative at first, then deepened as Marion’s hand came up to rest against his chest. Alfie cupped her face gently, pouring everything he couldn’t yet say into the kiss. His need for her, his promise to protect her and Charlie, his certainty that they belonged together.
When they finally pulled apart, both slightly breathless, Marion’s eyes were shining in the starlight.
“I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I saw you,” Alfie admitted, his thumb gently stroking her cheek.
“Me, too,” Marion whispered back, her voice carrying a note of wonder. “I just didn’t want to admit it to myself.”
Alfie smiled, leaning his forehead against hers. “Well, I’m glad we got that off our chests,” he murmured.
“You mean you’re glad we finally rooted out the truth?” she asked and then giggled.
It wasn’t quite the effect his kiss would have on her.
But at least it means we are growing on her, his bear said.
Not you as well! Alfie said. It seemed everyone was stealing his puns. But only one woman would ever steal his heart.