Chapter Two – Marion
She’d come to Bear Creek Garden Center by mistake, so why did it feel as if she were standing exactly where she was meant to be?
Perhaps because there was something about the man who had come to greet her that made her feel...something. And that was more than she’d felt for a while now. Numb. That’s what she’d been. Going through the motions of each day, focused solely on Charlie’s needs, on making their new life work.
Or maybe it was his easy smile, the way it lit up his whole face like sunshine breaking through clouds.
Or his broad shoulders that stretched the fabric of his shirt just right, and sun-kissed skin that spoke of hours spent outdoors.
While his boyishly tousled hair gave him an approachable quality that made her fingers itch to smooth it down.
Or maybe it was his T-shirt emblazoned with the words, “I’m Rooting for You.
” As she read the words, her throat constricted, and she had to blink and swallow hard to stop the tears that threatened her.
Such a simple message, but it hit her like a physical blow.
When was the last time anyone had rooted for her? For them?
“Did my brother send you the DM?” the man asked, and Marion came back down to earth with a jolt.
“Your brother?” she asked, sounding like a fool. She glanced at the name on her phone, even though she already knew the DM had come from Finn Thornberg.
“Yes, my brother Finn?” The guy stepped forward and thrust out his hand. “I’m Alfie Thornberg. Alfred.” He screwed up his face. “But everyone calls me Alfie.”
He sounded like a child wanting to be taken seriously as an adult, but Alfie suited his rugged yet boyish good looks perfectly. The name matched the warmth in his eyes and the genuine quality of his smile.
“Yes, Finn,” she replied, taking his hand. The contact sent an unexpected jolt through her body, and she quickly pulled back. “I suppose he must have typed Marion instead of Mary-Ann.”
“He’s good at making mistakes,” Alfie replied. “Very good,” he added somewhat cryptically, a knowing look crossing his face.
“I see,” she said and glanced back toward the car again, needing to ground herself. Charlie was her anchor, her responsibility, her reason for being here.
“Is everything all right?” Alfie asked, following her gaze.
“Oh, yes, my nephew is in the car,” Marion explained. “I was just checking he was okay.”
“Your nephew?” Alfie bent to the right and stared at the car. “So he is.”
Alfie sounded surprised. As if he hadn’t been aware there was someone else in the car, but why would he?
Charlie was slumped down in the backseat, the glow from his game illuminating his face.
It was the reason she had volunteered to help with the Bear Creek Garden Project, to get him out of the house and into the fresh air.
Plus, she’d hoped they might both make friends. Or at least acquaintances.
And she would sure like to get better acquainted with Alfie.
No, no, she was not here for romance. She needed to focus on Charlie.
On their new life. And anyway, he was not her type.
That much was obvious from his T-shirt. Men who wore their hearts on their sleeves—or, in this case, clothing—were dangerous.
They made you hope for things you couldn’t have.
“Would he like to come look around? See the plants?” Alfie asked, glancing back at the building behind him. “We have a butterfly garden that kids usually love. And the fountain makes rainbows when the sun hits it just right.” He glanced up at the early morning sun. “And that would be about now.”
Marion hesitated. Charlie didn’t do well with strangers, especially men. But there was something about Alfie that felt...right. He wasn’t pushy, he certainly didn’t come over all alpha male… How could he when he was wearing that T-shirt?
“Believe me, it’s a blooming showstopper,” Alfie added.
“I can ask him,” she said, looking over her shoulder. “He’s a bit…shy.”
“No pressure,” Alfie said quickly. “The plants aren’t growing anywhere. Well, except home with my customers…eventually. Hopefully.” He grinned, and Marion found herself almost smiling back.
She walked back to the car and opened Charlie’s door. Shy wasn’t exactly an accurate description of her nephew. Guarded would be better. “Hey, buddy. Want to come see some plants? Alfie says there’s a butterfly garden.”
Charlie looked up from his game, his eyes wary. “Do I have to?”
“No, you don’t have to. But it might be nice to stretch your legs.” She shrugged. “Get some fresh air.”
He glanced past her to where Alfie stood waiting by the garden center entrance, hands in his pockets, deliberately not watching them. “Who is he?”
Marion’s heart squeezed. Even at nine, Charlie had learned to be cautious. “He’s the man with the plants for the garden project.” She gave an easy smile. “Maybe you could help carry the plants to the car after we’ve had a quick tour.”
“He looks more than capable of carrying them himself,” Charlie observed moodily.
“I know, but this is our hometown now and it wouldn’t hurt to make friends.” Marion held out her hand to Charlie. “What do you say?”
“That we’re doing fine without friends,” Charlie answered bluntly.
“I know, but you never know when you might need them. So it’s a good idea to make them whenever and wherever you can.” She raised her eyebrows, trying to encourage him to get out of the car.
Charlie considered for a moment, then slowly unbuckled his seatbelt. “Maybe just for a minute.”
As they walked back toward Alfie, Marion kept her hand on Charlie’s shoulder, feeling the tension in his small body.
But Alfie seemed to understand. He didn’t move toward them, didn’t try to engage Charlie directly.
Instead, he addressed Marion. “The community garden plants are just through here. I’ve got tomatoes, peppers, and some herbs.
All good starter plants that should do well in our climate. ”
They followed him into the garden center, and Marion’s senses were immediately overwhelmed. The sweet perfume of flowers mixed with the earthy scent of damp soil. While everywhere she looked, life seemed to burst forth in a riot of colors and textures.
“Wow,” Charlie breathed beside her, his game forgotten.
“Pretty amazing, right?” Alfie said, still keeping his distance but including Charlie in the conversation. “My favorite part is over here.”
He led them to a corner where a small fountain bubbled merrily, surrounded by flowering plants that attracted a dozen butterflies. They danced in the air, their wings catching the light.
Charlie took a step forward, mesmerized. “Are they real?”
“As real as you and me,” Alfie said. “That orange one there is a monarch. They’re getting ready to migrate soon.”
“Cool.” Charlie held out his hand palm toward the sky, watching in awe as the butterflies fluttered around the flowers. There was a look of such serenity on his face that Marion felt tears threatening again. She hadn’t seen that expression on his face in months.
“They like the buddleia,” Alfie said softly, moving to stand near a purple flowering bush. “Some people call it the butterfly bush. See how they’re all gathering there?”
Charlie nodded, taking another tentative step closer to the fountain.
A blue butterfly landed briefly on his outstretched fingers before fluttering away, and for the first time since they’d arrived in Bear Creek, Marion heard him laugh.
A real, heartfelt laugh that made her chest tight with emotion.
“That tickled,” Charlie said, wonder replacing the wariness in his eyes.
“They have tiny feet,” Alfie explained, his voice gentle. “Like little hooks that help them hold on to flowers. Would you like to see where we grow the butterfly plants from seeds?”
Charlie glanced back at Marion, seeking permission. She nodded, trying not to show how moved she was by this small breakthrough.
“Okay,” Charlie whispered.
As Alfie led them deeper into the garden center, pointing out different plants and explaining which ones attracted butterflies, Marion found herself studying him.
The way he spoke to Charlie, not talking down to him, but treating him like a person whose opinion mattered.
The careful distance he maintained, letting Charlie set the pace. It was...unexpected.
Most people either ignored Charlie completely or tried too hard, overwhelming him with forced friendliness. But Alfie seemed to understand instinctively what her nephew needed.
What she needed.
Connection. That feeling that you were not alone, not on the outside looking in.
“Look at this.” Charlie beckoned to her, pointing to a cluster of tiny caterpillars on a milkweed plant. “Alfie says these will be monarchs.”
“That’s right,” Alfie confirmed, crouching down to Charlie’s level but still maintaining that careful distance. “In about two weeks, they’ll form their chrysalis. It’s like nature’s magic trick.”
Marion moved closer, drawn by Charlie’s enthusiasm. As she leaned in to look at the caterpillars, she was drawn to Alfie, as if there was an invisible force reeling her in. She straightened quickly, heat rising to her cheeks.
“Can we come back and see them change?” Charlie asked, then caught himself, the wariness creeping back. “I mean, if that’s okay.” He glanced up at Alfie, unsure of himself.
“Of course. You are always welcome. The garden center is open every day,” Alfie said easily. “The caterpillars would probably enjoy the company. Plants and bugs tend to grow better when people talk to them.”
Charlie’s brow furrowed. “That’s not scientific.”
“Maybe not,” Alfie agreed with a grin. “But I’ve been doing this a long time, and the plants I talk to always seem happier. Could be coincidence, could be magic. Who’s to say?”
Marion watched the exchange, and the tightness in her chest loosened. Charlie was actually engaging, asking questions, showing interest in something beyond his games and his carefully constructed walls.