Chapter Three – Alfie
Alfie stood rooted to the spot as Marion drove away, taking Charlie and a piece of his heart with her.
His bear paced restlessly inside him, torn between euphoria at finally meeting their mate and dismay at watching her leave. We found her, his bear whispered in wonder. After all this time, we finally found her.
And let her go, Alfie added, his chest tight with an ache that felt both ancient and brand new.
“So Mary-Ann came for the plants for the garden project?”
Alfie was startled by Daisy’s voice and turned to see her approaching with two steaming mugs of coffee. The morning sun caught the wisps of gray in her hair, and he could swear there was something different about her. A glow that hadn’t been there when she’d left for the café.
“Mary-Ann?” The name felt foreign on his tongue, belonging to a world that existed before Marion had walked into his life and rearranged everything he thought he knew about himself.
Because he was different.
Maybe we are glowing, too, his bear said.
Maybe, Alfie murmured, casting one last look in the direction his mate had disappeared in.
Daisy’s brows tugged together as she studied him, her keen eyes missing nothing. “Are you okay? You look...” She paused, searching for the right word. “Different.”
He accepted the coffee with hands that weren’t quite steady, taking a sip to buy himself time to compose himself. The familiar bitter warmth did nothing to fill the Marion-shaped void already forming in his chest.
“Alfie?” Daisy pressed, and he should have known better than to think he could hide anything from her. She’d known him too long, seen him through too many seasons of growth and change.
But before he could formulate a response, before he could even begin to explain what had just happened, Daisy’s eyes widened. She took a step back, one hand flying to cover her mouth.
“You met her?”
Alfie could only nod, not trusting his voice. Now that Marion had left, he was beginning to think he had dreamed the whole thing.
No! his bear said. She was not a dream. She’s as real as the monarch butterflies.
But then Alfie’s coffee mug nearly went flying as Daisy squealed and threw her arms around his neck. He barely managed to keep hold of it as he wrapped his arm around her and hugged her back.
When Daisy stepped back, her eyes were bright with tears of joy. “So where is she? Who is she?” She craned her neck, looking over his shoulder as if Marion might materialize in the parking lot through sheer force of will.
“Marion.” He grinned as he said her name. “Her name is Marion.”
“Is she still here?” Daisy asked, grinning right along with him.
“No.” He shook his head, and his grin faded. “She left.”
“She left?” Daisy’s expression shifted from joy to disbelief to something that looked suspiciously like exasperation. The unspoken accusation hung heavily between them: You met your mate and then you let her go?
“Marion came to collect the plants for the garden project,” Alfie explained, needing Daisy to understand it wasn’t that simple.
But then, he sensed that nothing about Marion was simple.
Not the wariness in her eyes, not the protective way she watched over her nephew, not the way she’d tensed when their hands touched.
“Instead of Mary-Ann?” Daisy’s voice climbed an octave. “What are the chances?”
Tell her the rest, his bear huffed with amusement, finally finding humor in the situation.
“Finn asked her to come collect them,” Alfie admitted.
“He did ?” Interest sparked in Daisy’s eyes, replacing the disbelief.
“By mistake,” Alfie added, and saying it out loud made the cosmic joke of it all impossible to ignore.
Daisy’s hand went to her mouth again, but this time she was trying to hold back laughter. Her shoulders shook with the effort, and then it burst free and her laughter rang out across the garden center.
You have to admit, it is funny, his bear said.
Oh, yeah! Alfie agreed as the absurdity of it all hit him.
The weeks of teasing Finn about his matchmaking mix-ups, the desperate hope that maybe it would happen for him, too, and then it had, exactly as his bear had wished that very morning. His own laughter joined hers, deep and rumbling, as tears misted his eyes.
But they were happy tears. Joyful tears.
When they finally stopped, both wiping tears from their eyes, Daisy gave him a tap on the arm that was equal parts affection and reproach.
“So what are you doing still here?”
“What am I doing still here?” he echoed Daisy’s question.
She’s right, his bear said. What are we doing still here?
“I should go after her,” Alfie said, bewildered that the thought had not occurred to him before.
“I think that is a fine idea.” Daisy grinned, her eyes bright with amusement. “Not a moment to waste.”
“I’m going,” Alfie said, already backing away from her. Then he stopped, his brow furrowing. “But wait…the garden center…”
“Will still be standing when you get back,” Daisy finished for him, making a shooing motion with her free hand. “I’ve lived and breathed this place for more years than I care to recall. So, I think I can handle a Saturday morning. Don’t you, Alfie Thornberg?”
His bear was practically clawing at him now. Go, go, GO!
“Call if there’s any…”
“Alfie!” Daisy’s voice took on that no-nonsense tone she reserved for particularly stubborn customers. “Go find your mate. That’s an order.”
The word ‘mate’ sent a thrill through him.
Our mate, his bear said with satisfaction.
“You’re sure…”
“I’ve worked with shifters long enough to know you will be no use to anyone until you have found her again,” she said. “The way you looked at her car driving away was...well, let’s just say I’ve seen that look before. Now stop wasting time!”
Alfie didn’t need to be told a third time. He darted around to the greenhouse, grabbed his keys from the hook in the back office, and practically leaped into his truck. The engine roared to life, and he pulled out of the garden center parking lot with more speed than caution.
The community garden was on the outskirts of town, next to a warehouse complex that had been converted into craft studios, one of Finn and Mary-Ann’s previous projects.
But their vision for the garden project was more ambitious.
They weren’t going to stop at just vegetable plots, no, they planned to create a gathering place for the whole town, with benches and pathways and spaces for children to explore and play.
To connect with the natural world around them.
And what a world it was!
Alfie pressed his foot a little harder on the accelerator, weaving through the light morning traffic of Bear Creek. His heart seemed to thud against his ribs, each beat seeming to say, “Marion, Marion, Marion.”
What am I going to say to her? he muttered as he turned onto Maple Street.
His bear huffed. The truth.
I can’t just blurt out ‘You’re my mate’ to a human woman I just met, Alfie argued. She’d think I was insane.
And everyone else will think you are insane if you don’t, his bear replied lightly.
Alfie chuckled. You know that is not true. Neither Kris nor Philip blurted that out when they first met their mates.
But this is our second meeting, his bear reminded him as they neared the entrance to the garden project.
It was busier than Alfie had expected, but then he realized Saturday morning volunteers always showed up in droves.
Cars filled the small parking area, and people spilled out onto the grass, carrying tools and wearing work gloves.
There was a sense of camaraderie as neighbors greeted each other, and children ran around together like spring lambs.
It was as if everyone was eager to be part of something bigger than themselves.
But beyond all that, Alfie could sense his mate. It was as if there was a thread connecting them, an unbreakable thread that pulled taut the moment he turned off the engine. She was here, somewhere among the crowd, and his bear stirred with anticipation, needing to see her, touch her again.
He parked his truck at the edge of the lot and got out, his palms suddenly damp.
What was he doing? He didn’t want Marion to think he was stalking her.
The thought made his stomach clench. He had given no sign back at the garden center that he was coming over here today, so to suddenly turn up would take some explaining.
He cursed under his breath. Stupid, stupid.
He should have collected another couple of trays of plants from the greenhouse.
Then he could have said that he’d forgotten to give them to Marion and that was why he was here.
It would have been believable, reasonable, not at all like a man desperately following his mate across town.
We could still do that, his bear suggested hopefully.
We could. Alfie glanced back at his truck. There was still time to turn around and head back to the garden center. Marion had not seen him yet. She would never know he’d been here. He could preserve his dignity, give her space, and approach this whole thing more cautiously...
But then his breath caught.
It was as if the people milling around the parking lot, talking excitedly about the project, suddenly parted like a living sea. And there she was.
Looking straight at him.
Their eyes met across the distance, and Alfie felt that same jolt of recognition, of rightness, that had knocked him sideways at the garden center.
But then Marion’s expression shifted from surprise to something unreadable, then to a set expression of careful neutrality that didn’t quite hide the pink rising in her cheeks.
Too late, his bear said happily.