Page 45 of The Alpha and the Baker
“I think there’s a place with benches around the other way,” Felicia said. “Or we could eat it in your car?”
“Are you sure you won’t be too cold?” I asked, more than a bit concerned. While I was naturally a lot warmer than a human, I was also dressed a bit more appropriately for an early spring night.
“I think I’ll be fine. Especially once I get some warm food into me.”
“All right then,” I said, giving her my arm. It was becoming a natural habit. Was that even possible considering it was only our fourth time being in each other’s presence, or was I just deep into the delulu, as Arietty might say? “But you’ll let me know if you do?”
“Of course. One thing you should know about me is that I always keep it a hundred. I see no need to be a martyr for someone else’s comfort.”
That’s my girl.
Except she very muchwasn’tmy girl. Sure, we were circumventing something that could have derailed our date, but that didn’t mean it was a success.
Yet.
Sure enough, we found a little seating area meant for people to stop and rest or enjoy their meals. It was one of the few places I’d seen without any anti-homeless architecture, which was a relief. Maybe it was just the shifter in me, but I would never understand why there was such virulent hate for those who were unhoused. I didn’t understand why it was better to spend money on drilling uncomfortable handlebars onto a bench that made it unusable for pretty much everyone instead of helping people find homes.
Maybe it was a human thing.
“Man, this smells so good,” Felicia said as we sat down, doing that little wiggle some women did when they were enthusiastic about what they’re going to eat. I loved that it was a little trait that spanned species, from shifters, to humans, to dogs,to guinea pigs. There seemed to be some sort of inherent, primordial wiring that said happy plus food equaled wiggles.
“It does, doesn’t it?” I agreed as I began to unpack our rather sizeable order. Well, sizable for two humans. If I was there with Chris, we probably would have been walking away with three plastic bags stuffed to bursting. “Can’t wait to dig in.”
“Me, either.”
I could tell she was absolutely telling the truth. Despite having a sudden and rather unpleasant pivot from our fancy steakhouse dinner, Felicia was grinning, wiggling, and exuding happy pheromones like she was having the time of her life.
It sure made me feel a whole lot better about the situation. Sure, I couldn’t control the attitude of a cranky waitress or the inventory of a busy restaurant, but I could make Felicia laugh and fill her belly with warm food. That was a lot better than some dates I’d been on.
“Let’s dig in,” Felicia said once we had everything arranged.
And dig in we did. For a few moments, we didn’t speak as we were both too busy stuffing our faces. Felicia drained about half of her soda, then regarded me curiously.
“So, what’s it like living on a commune?”
“Commune?” I asked, nearly choking on the cream soda I’d chosen. I wasn’t the biggest on sugary drinks, but there was something about having the classic out of a glass bottle that never got old.
“Yeah, isn’t that what your place is?”
I could tell from her tone that she didn’t mean it maliciously, but for some reason, the word didn’t sit right with me. Maybe it was too human. Maybe it just had too many negative connotations.
“Uh no, I would not call it that.”
“What would you call it?”
Pack, my mind answered automatically, but obviously I didn’t say that out loud. How did I describe our arrangement to a human? Especially one who grew up in the individualistic hellscape that was the current, money-obsessed America?
“Uh, I dunno. I guess we’re kind of like our own little town, but everyone’s free to self-actualize. It’s mostly all of us using our family’s land to live independently, ya know? So much of life today seems to be all about thegrind, and the McCallisters just aren’t really cut out for that.”
The corners of her eyes crinkled in such a cute way that I almost missed her next question. “And what are you cut out for?”
“Eh, ya know.” Was I saying that too much? It felt like I was. But it was a weird feeling to be explaining the basic facts of my life to someone who seemed like they already fit in them so perfectly. And I wasn’t the only one who thought that. Clearly, a large number of my pack agreed, including Gammy McCallister, from how things had gone at the reunion. “Eating good food, singing off-key to good songs. Dancing under the stars. Growing food and interacting with our land instead of just existing on top of it.”
The soft look on her face only grew kinder. “That sounds lovely.”
“I’d like to think it is.”
“All right then, so not a commune. I’m sorry if I offended you.”
