Chapter Three
In Which Zander Pours out His Soul
W ith nothing left for me to do, we fall into a long, awkward silence. I pretend to wipe down the bar near her as I desperately think of something else to say to keep the conversation going. Thankfully, she beats me to it.
“So how long have you done this?” Nollaig asks as she sips on the daiquiri.
“Forever,” I answer with a sigh. “Worked part-time straight through college. Came back full time after I graduated.”
She sighs. “How was it?”
“How was what?”
“College. My da is—he doesn’t think schooling beyond the basics is necessary for girls, so I never got a chance to go.”
“There’s still time. How old are you? At a certain point, you’re no longer considered under your parents financially and can get aid on your own…”
She smiles. “Oh, I’m older than I look. But that’s not really the issue, honestly. I don’t mind fighting the old man when I really want to do something.” She scribbles in the condensation on the side of the daiquiri glass as we talk.
Silence falls between us again, and I clear my throat. "Uh, I don't think I answered your question...though I think I'm the wrong person to ask. I wasn't smart like my younger brothers. I didn’t have the typical college experience. I went to college in the city and came home every night."
"Why isn't that smart?"
The answer to that question is probably a little deep for a stranger but what the hell. "When you're a werewolf, everything is centered around the pack."
"You're a werewolf?"
The surprise on her face makes her eyes light up. I've never met anyone excited to meet a werewolf–well, other than an occasional knot chaser here and there, but they play it a lot cooler.
"Yes...is that okay?"
She takes a sip of her drink and studies me. " Okay to be who you were born to be? Of course. I just have never encountered a werewolf before. I don't have a pack, but in my village, we keep to ourselves, so maybe I understand a little bit."
I'm starting to think maybe I have an Amish girl on her rum-whatever you call it—her free pass. "Well, I'm the second oldest, so I won't be Alpha of our pack when the time comes. That will fall to my older brother, Zach. Honestly, he's the only one who needed to stick around, learn the family business, and all that, but...I...I guess I felt like I couldn't leave either. Like I was leaving people who relied on me behind, so I went to school during the day and worked here at night. Lived at home, helped Mama with my little brothers."
“Your da doesn’t help around the house either?”
I chuckle. “No, it’s not that. My dad died when I was twelve, and our uncle had to take over as Alpha for the pack. Luckily, he’s good with business. But Mama never remarried. She said dad was it, so I’ve always felt like I…needed to make up for it or something.” I look up to find her watching me. “That sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”
She meets my eyes. "Not at all. Do you still live with your family?"
I shake my head. "No, my littlest brother is old enough to work here, and Mama wanted to downsize, so I've got a place not too far from here."
"But you miss it?" she asks.
This is the weirdest conversation I've ever had in a bar, but it doesn't feel wrong to confess all of this to her. I take a sip of the beer. "I do. I guess I was used to living in a big family, having noise and people around, and now I have lots of quiet." I shrug. “I probably should try to enjoy it, I guess. One day soon I’ll have my own family, hopefully, and the noise will return.”
She nods. "The pack is good for you, then. My village is the same. I like to get out every once in a while, but I don't know what it'd be like if I left it all behind and ventured out on my own, even if my da is a mess who can't get his life together."
She runs a finger along the rim of the glass as she finishes and is about to move on to the gin and tonic when I put a glass of water in front of her. "Slow down there just a bit, or you'll end your first night out in a while puking on the sidewalk waiting for your ride. Have you had anything to eat?"
"No, but..."
I pull out the plastic shopping bag with my dinner in it from underneath the counter and start laying it out. "What's all this?" Nollaig asks, amusement on her face.
"It's my dinner, well, my second dinner, but I'm going to share it with you."
"You don't have—" she starts, but I shake my head. I have the most random assortment of things: crackers, a hunk of cheese, two oranges, a whole package of thick-cut roast turkey, and a half-full jar of black olives.
"This is your dinner?" she laughs as I get out a knife to slice the cheese.
I shrug. "I live by myself. Any allergies?"
"Me? No." I dig out some paper plates and begin dividing my dinner between the two of us.
"I don't want to take your food from you."
"You're really going to come into a wolf bar and not accept the food they offer you?"
She giggles. "Are you the Fae?"
"Are you?"
Her eyes sparkle. "I asked you first."
I peel an orange and start pulling the sections apart for her, laying them out on the plate. "Nope, just a werewolf offering you food, which if you knew anything about us, you'd know that a good wolf always wants to ensure guests within his territory are well cared for."
"Even if you're not the Alpha?"
I nod. "Especially if I'm not the Alpha. The Alpha can't be everywhere all the time. The responsibility of the strongest members of the pack is to care for those around them. Most humans get the whole concept of Alpha wrong. They think the Alpha is the strong one, the one in charge, the one calling all the shots, and he is. He's also the protective one, the one putting himself out there so others don't have to. He’s the one willing to carry burdens others cannot bear. But he can't do it alone. We all have to support him to give him the freedom to do that. Now eat that orange before the clock strikes midnight, and you're running out of here before your dress turns to rags."
She takes a bite of the orange and hums approvingly. "God, I can't remember the last time I had an orange. Thank you for sharing your food. "
I survey the stage and find Steely still up there dancing. She catches my eye and nods toward Nollaig, eyebrow raised. It's crazy what she can express in just a few facial movements. I know what she's asking. "You taking this one home?"
I shrug, not wanting to count my chickens before they're hatched, and turn back to Nollaig.
Nollaig must think I’m worried about Steely, because she nods toward the two men. "Don't worry. She’s probably safe. They're best friends."