by Sable Sylvan
Inside each basket was a pile of freshly baked rolls. Some had sunflower, poppy, or sesame seeds, while others were bare. By each basket was a Mason jar filled with a pale liquid solid, a knife in each jar: it was freshly churned butter, from one of the local farms.
None of the bowls on the table matched. They were thrift store finds: although Cedar had enough money to buy his grandma whatever she wanted, she was a woman who had seen the Great Depression and thus did not spend more money than she needed to, ever. The various bowls were filled with all kinds of yummy treats. One bowl was filled with white soft chunks, bits of chopped up tomatoes, and ripped up basil leaves, all covered in a red wine vinaigrette, home made, of course. The caprese salad was the most veggie-heavy dish on the table and was very popular with the other Seattle shifters, especially the women, who were shorter than their rural kin, but still taller than Talia.
A big wooden bowl was filled with potatoes, bacon, chives, and onions, and the potatoes were covered in a coating of herbs as well. The loaded potato salad was being dug into by one very tall shifter who looked like he might actually work at one of the Asher mills.
In place of an antipasto plate, there was a plate covered in skewers. Chunks of cured meats, mostly wild game and salmon, were sandwiched between hunks of local cheeses, with many shades of cheddar present. Each skewer had two olives on it, one dark green, and one a dark hue of purple so deep it was practically black.
A large, deep bowl was filled with something both light and heavy: a pasta salad, made with three colors of noodles (white, red, and green) was coated in pesto: the cool salad was going to be a relief on the hot summer day. There was more than enough basil and pine nut sauce to cover each small curled noodle, and there were some bits of tomato tossed in as well.
The centerpiece was a large dish in the center of the table, filled with filet after filet of wild salmon. The silver skin of the salmon was charred, as the salmon had been cooked in the old ways, outdoors on a spit over the bear clan’s fire pit. The salmon was dripping with its own melted fat, seeping out of the space between each supple, pink flake, and the fish was piled high, with two pairs of tongs on each side of the pile. Shifters were already helping themselves to the food, plating up before anyone else could take their choice cuts of fish.
Talia’s stomach rumbled, as Talia had only had a light lunch that day, half a sandwich at the shop between shifts. “How do we do this?” asked Talia.
“You grab us two seats, I’ll make you a plate,” said Cedar. Talia grabbed two seats in the middle of the table, and watched as Cedar navigated his way through the crowd and loaded up a plate of food.
Cedar dropped the plate back off with Talia. “Hold this,” he ordered.
Talia looked at the plate. It must’ve been a plate that Cedar meant to eat himself because there was no way that he’d expect her to be able to eat all that food. Cedar came back with another plate. The new plate made the first look like a minimalist entrée at a fancy molecular gastronomy restaurant, as it dwarfed the first, with over triple the portions of the plate placed in front of Talia. “You shouldn’t have waited for me, you can start,” he said. “Be right back.”
Cedar got up, made his way to the kitchen, and came back with two large glasses filled with orange liquid over ice, with a pink and white striped straw in each. “I hope you like peaches, because peach lemonade’s what’s on the menu,” said Cedar, passing a chilled glass to Talia.
“Are you kidding? After marionberries, peaches are my favorite fruit,” said Talia. She sipped at the lemonade: the homemade beverage tasted strongly of peaches, with lemon on the side, and it wasn’t too pulpy. There was another flavor in there, though. “I can taste something else, but I can’t put my finger on it.”
“It’s the honey,” said Cedar, starting on his food. “It’s my grandma’s secret ingredients in most things.”
Talia took Cedar’s cue and dug in. The family dinner was a race for food more than anything else, and even though the plate had seemed insurmountable, bite by bite, Talia found herself closer to joining the Clean Plate Cub.
The rest of the family hustled and bustled and Talia watched, as an outsider, as the big family competed with each other for the last bits of various dishes...and as they gave those scrumptious morsels to others. Everyone was fighting to feed one another, rather than out of selfishness or malice. It was truly a sight to see.
“Talia, will you be a dear and help me in the kitchen?” asked Grandma Dixon, noticing Talia’s clean plate.
“Of course, Grandma Dixon,” said Talia, getting up from her chair and following Grandma Dixon into the kitchen. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m sorry to be so much trouble, but can you take that delicious honey you brought and open it for me,” said Grandma Dixon, opening the fridge and pulling out a big bowl of cut fruit, and then, a big bowl of whipped cream.
Talia passed her the honey and Grandma Dixon poured the whole lot onto the cut berries: strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, they were all there, as well as some blackberries. “It’s too bad the fruit’s not the freshest, I had to go with the store stuff, it’s a bit too early for berries,” explained Grandma Dixon. “Can you get out the small bowls, second cabinet on the left of the fridge, and the dessert spoons, in the drawer below that?”
“Got it,” said Talia, and she found the stuff with ease. She pulled out enough plates and spoons for every guest at the table. “Anything else?”
“Talia...you don’t know very much about bear shifters, do you?” asked Grandma Dixon, mixing the sticky honey around in the bowl, coating every berry with honey.
“No, I have to admit, I don’t,” said Talia, her heart sinking. She’d tried her best to fit and be respectful that night. She’d thought for sure she’d made a good impression.
“Good,” said Grandma Dixon with a small smile as she finished stirring the bowl. “Cedar is the last of my grandbabies to find a mate...and once he told me about you, and about how excited he was to meet you, I knew I had to meet you to make sure you were right for my boy.”
“I promise you, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, or to be an imposition,” said Talia.
“You didn’t intend to fall in love at first sight with a billionaire, is what you’re saying, yes?” asked Grandma Dixon. “You’re the only woman in the Pacific Northwest that I’ve heard say that, and the only one I could imagine meaning it. You had no idea who Cedar was...and you were still kind, gentle, and treated him like he was made of gold and glass. That’s all I want in a wife for him.”
“A...a wife?” asked Talia with a gulp.”
“I know you kids are modern and fancy nowadays, with your dating and, what is it, ‘FWB’?,” said Grandma Dixon. “But...I’m traditional, and I believe that when someone finds their true love, they’ve got to go out and get it. I guess what I’m trying to say is...I’m giving you my blessing, to pursue my boy.”
“Thank you, Grandma Dixon,” said Talia softly. “That means a lot coming from you.”
“Carry in the plates and spoons,” said Grandma Dixon, a twinkle in her milky eyes. “We can’t keep that lot waiting, or they’re bound to tear the dining room apart!” She carried in the berries and cream and Talia carried in the dessert dishes, and they placed it on the table. Talia served the desserts, dolloping the berries in the bowls first, and then, the whipped cream with another spoon, and Cedar helped pass out dishes to people.
The berries were delicious, even though they weren’t as fresh as the berries they’d get in Port Jameson in the coming weeks. The fresh whipped cream was delicious and the addition of marionberry honey was a hit with all the shifters, who told Cedar to bring Talia around for the next moon watching gathering.
The dining room was hot and Talia started to feel dizzy. Cedar noticed that Talia seemed a little pink. “Let’s get some air,” said Cedar. He walked with Talia to the kitchen, where they put their plates into the dishwasher, and he headed to the back porch, opening
the sliding door and taking a blanket off of the pile of blankets that Grandma Dixon had for the moon watching ceremonies. He walked with Talia down the porch onto the grass. Although the house’s lights were on, they weren’t bright enough to dim the sky over the woods.
Cedar lay the blanket down. “Does this look like a good spot?”
Talia sat down. The grass was soft and the soil spongy and loamy. “Perfect,” said Talia with a smile. Cedar sat down next to her.
“My family really took a shining to you,” said Cedar.
“Yeah, they’re really great,” said Talia. “I had no idea bear shifters could eat so much.”
“Trust me, for them, this was a small meal. You should visit us for Thanksgiving: when winter’s a-coming, we eat massive amounts,” said Cedar. “I’m absolutely scrawny right now, but come winter, I’ll be covered in a thick coat of blubber to keep me warm through my hibernation.”
“You’re telling me that a billionaire can afford to take months off during first and fourth quarter...to sleep?” asked Talia.
“It’s not like I’m the only employee,” said Cedar. “Asher Lumber Co. has other shifters, as well as humans, keeping the fort down when the bears are sleeping...but it does mean that I work harder during the rest of the year. Moments like this are rare for me...and that makes them all the more precious.”
Cedar took Talia’s hand in his and looked at it, running his fingertips over her palms. Talia, as a human, had absolutely no shifter marks: there were no marks on her hands, and Cedar knew there’d be no markings on her chest, unless she had tattoos...and the thought of Talia’s breasts sent a twitch to his crotch.
“Do you know any constellations?” asked Cedar.
“Honestly, not really,” said Talia. “I’ve gone for day hikes, but I’ve never gone camping, and I’ve never gone hiking at night.”
“Well, you see that star up there?” asked Cedar. He pointed to a bright star and traced lines. “That’s Alkaid, and next to it, just down a bit and to the right, that’s Mizar, and then if you follow that path down and to the left, you get to Alioth, and then Megrez is next, down, to the left. Off of Megrez, down and to the right, is Dubje, and then, Muscida. Between Dubhe and Muscida, you can see a little star in the middle, right?”
“Right,” said Talia, spotting the tiny star.
“I forgot that star’s name, but there’s a small star above it and to the left it, and then, another down and to the left...and then, down and to the left, there’s another star, and two stars branch off of it. One is Talitha, the one on the right.”
“Got it,” said Talia.
“Can you find Megrez and Dubhe again?” asked Cedar.
“Uh, I think I might’ve lost them,” said Talia, sheepishly.
“It’s fine, I can show you,” said Cedar, taking Talia’s arm. Talia felt Cedar’s warmth even through their clothes and it sent blood rushing to her cheeks. She had never been this close to Cedar before. “There’s Megrez...and there’s Dubhe.” Cedar was pointing at the tiny stars with her finger as the pointer.
“Alright,” said Talia. “Now what am I looking for?”
“Almost parallel and to the left, there’s two more stars, and those two stars are Phad and Merek. They form a four-sided shape with Megrez and Dubhe.”
“Got it,” said Talia. “Wait...I see something. Phad, Merek, Dubhe, Megrez...and those other stars to the left, the three other stars. I know that constellation! It’s on the tip of my tongue.”
The though of Talia’s tongue stiffened Cedar’s member. “That’s what you humans call the Big Dipper. Now...you remember which one Phad was?”
“No, sorry,” said Talia. “It’s a lot of new names.”
Cedar pulled Talia close and put her on his lap. Talia could feel Cedar’s stiff member and blushed: there was no frikkin’ way Cedar was already turned on, just from star gazing. Talia’s head was right below Cedar’s chin, the back of her head against his strong, firm pecs. Cedar’s lap and torso formed the perfect chair. “Alright, there’s Phad,” said Cedar, pointing Talia’s finger to the left-hand side of the constellation. “There’s a star just to the left of Phad. Follow a line down and to the left. Then, go down and to the left more.”
“That star?” asked Talia, pointing to a star on the right of a pair of stars.
“That’s Tania Boeralis. Just to the left of is it Tania Australis. That’s the one you want,” said Cedar with a small smile. Having Talia in his arms, on his lap, just felt so right. “Now...let’s go back to that branching point. Go left...and then go left so more. There’s a pair of stars.”
“What are their names?” asked Talia.
“The one on the far left is Aula Australis, and the one next to it is Aula Borealis,” said Cedar.
“Why are there all these stars named after Australia?” asked Talia.
Cedar laughed and Talia felt stupid. She blushed. “Nevermind,” she said. “That was dumb.”
“No, it’s fine, I just...I never thought of it that way,” said Cedar. “I like that you see the world differently than I do, Talia. Being with someone who thought exactly the way I do? Well, that’d get boring quick, and I could never imagine being bored with you.”
“So...what does ‘australis’ mean?” asked Talia.
“It’s the Latin word for ‘southern’,” explained Cedar.
“And then, ‘borealis’...that means northern?” asked Talia. “Which means...the stars named ‘borealis’ lead north, where the ‘australis’ stars lead south.”
“That’s right,” said Cedar. “But I can show you an easier way to find your way at night. Can you find Merak and Dubhe again?”
“Yeah, they’re those two, right?” asked Talia, pointing.
“That’s right, Talia. You’re a fast learner,” said Cedar with a small smile. “Now...follow those two stars north.”
Talia looked up at the constellation and remembered the stars on the right hand side of the twin stars were the ones that were named ‘northern’ stars. She followed a line to the right, to a very bright star. “Like that?” asked Talia.
“Perfect,” said Cedar. “That’s Polaris, the North Star. As long as you can find Polaris, you can find your way north, and you can find your way home. Follow a line up from Polaris, to the right. Follow that star’s path up, to the right, and at the next star, go, up and to the left. There are three stars around that star: one up and to the left, one to its right, and one across from it, up and to the left.”
“I see it,” said Talia. “It’s like another dipper.”
“That’s the Little Dipper...at least to humans,” said Cedar. “But it used to be known as Ursa Minor...the literal translation is Smaller Bear, a female bear, but we bear shifters call that Star Cub.”
“And what do you call the Big Dipper?” asked Talia, looking up at Cedar. Was this the moment she’d finally get to feel his lips against hers? She could only hope so, and she braced herself for a smooch.
“Humans call the constellation that The Big Dipper is part of, ‘Ursa Major’, which literally means Greater Bear, but we call her Star Mother,” said Cedar. “Legends has it that the whole bear clan is descended from those three Sky Bears.”
“Three Sky Bears?” asked Talia. “What are the Sky Bears?”
“You haven’t heard of the Sky Bears? Well, come close, my child,” said Grandma Dixon, walking down the porch. “This is a story you’ll never forget.”
Chapter Four
Talia got off of Cedar’s lap out of respect, even though Grandma Dixon couldn’t see her. Cedar helped his grandma onto the picnic blanket, and Talia looked back: the whole bear clan was coming out onto the lawn, armed with blankets they spread out around Talia and Cedar. The house’s lights were off: the only light in the sky was that of the moon and the stars.
“Look up at the moon, Talia,” said Grandma Dixon. “What do you see?”
“It’s...round, and white,” said Talia. She didn’t want to insult Grandma Dixon and s
ay that it just looked like a big white rock in the sky.
“Look closer: you see those dark marks on the moon?” said Grandma Dixon. “Look closely, my dear.”
“I see them,” said Talia.
“Our bear shifter ancestors used to see a big mark on the moon,” said Grandma Dixon. “The mark was simple: a bunch of dark spots. But, if you look closer, you can also see light spots, like little stars.”
Talia looked closely: the moon did have some tiny white spots that were hard for her to see. “I can kind of see them.”
“It’s hard for humans to see them without telescopes,” explained Grandma Dixon. “Back when I could see, though, I could see them as easily as you can see the stars...and those little white spots reminded the bear shifters of the stars.”
“What do the marks mean?” asked Talia.
“Well...if the big, white thing in the moon is a big, white bear, then those dark spots must be his mate mark, or at least, that’s what the white bear thought: that there was a big dark circle he was supposed to find” said Grandma Dixon. “And that big, white bear chased a big black bear through the sky: but every day, the dark bear would run away from the big, white bear. The bear was lonely. He felt like he would never find a mate.”
“What’s the dark bear?” asked Talia.
“The new moon: when there’s a new moon, the moon looks dark, and our ancestors thought that was a dark bear, a black bear,” said Grandma Dixon.
“If the dark bear isn’t the bear’s mate...who is?” asked Talia.
“Well, those white spots on the moon? The stars?” said Grandma Dixon. “We believe that the moon’s true fated mate is the Star Mother: the mama bear in the sky, who watches over all us bear shifters too. And the Star Mother’s cub, the little cub, will be their child.”
“Will be?” asked Talia.