Regan Wolfrom - After The Fires Went Out - Coyote

“There’s that bright side,” Matt said.

“Then let’s have a toast,” Kayla said, turning around and trying her best smile. “Someone needs to do one.”

“Ant did it last year,” Fiona said. She didn’t need to remind us.

“I’ll do the honours,” I said. “I think I remember some of what Ant taught me.”

“You need a drink,” Kayla said, making her way to the kitchen. She came back with a glass that held a straight shot of something golden.

I took the glass with a nod and held it high. “Here’s a toast to all the pretty ladies. The rest of you motherfuckers can all go to hell. Santé! ”

“ Santé, ” the others said in reply as we all took a drink.

Today is Tuesday, December 25th.

Sara ended up having the bed to herself last night; I woke up Christmas morning on the living room floor. Fiona greeted me with a Merry Christmas, a warm hug, and a cup of black coffee.

My head throbbed a little, but I’ve had worse ways to start the day.

We decided as a group last winter not to exchange gifts; it’s not really fair when Graham and I can find all sorts of useless crap in Cochrane while most everyone else is left to fashion gifts from twigs and frozen dirt.

But Fiona broke the rule last year, giving each of us another homemade card, so I wasn’t surprised when she cornered me again this morning after breakfast.

“Sorry,” she said as she handed me a large envelope.

“We’re getting a divorce?” I asked.

I opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of sketch paper.

“I didn’t frame it yet,” she said. “I wasn’t sure if you’d like it.”

It was a charcoal drawing; I recognized the scene from pretty much the only printed photo I have. Me, Alanna and Cassy, standing together at Niagara Falls. Fiona had taken my little wallet-size and turned it into something beautiful…there was more of my wife and daughter in the faces she’d drawn than in that old wrinkled photo.

“It’s perfect,” I said as I pulled her close to me. “Thank you so much, Fiona. It’s just…perfect.”

“I’ve sprayed it, but I just need to find the right frame.”

“Don’t worry…I can find something the next time I’m in town.” I kissed her on the cheek. “It’s wonderful.”

“I didn’t get anything for anyone else this year.”

“Ah…okay.” I wasn’t sure how to feel.

“Sara’s birthday is coming up in February…I’ll make something for her then. I’ve just been busy lately, you know?”

“I know, Fiona. You do a lot around here.”

“No, you do a lot, Baptiste. I don’t remember me rescuing two stranded girls on the side of the road.”

“Two stranded girls?”

“Now you’ve blocked it from your memory? It’s a damned good thing you found those two before someone else did.”

I’d forgotten the story I’d told. To Fiona and Kayla those girls were lucky; in that version they’d been cold and scared…and that was all they’d felt.

I didn’t regret the lie.

“I guess so,” I said. “I got to say, Fiona…your work has really gone far. You’ve got a real talent.”

She blushed a little. “I always wanted to be an artist. Well, that and a supermodel.”

I chuckled.

She smiled at me. “I figured by the time I was sixteen I’d have run off to join one of those eco-collectives, do the whole off-the-grid artist thing.”

“Off-the-grid artist and supermodel, you mean.”

She laughed. “Yeah. They had a few places like that right around here. I wonder if some of them are still around.”

“Maybe it’s not too late for you to live the dream. But make sure you warn me before you go.” I gave her cheek another peck. “And thank you, again…really.”

“You’re welcome.”

It was nice to feel special.

“I want to show you something,” Fiona said after lunch.

“I know how to find the sink,” I said, “I just choose not to wash dishes.”

“Funny. But seriously…come on a walk with me.”

“Outside? In the snow?”

She smiled. “Yeah…in the snow…you big baby.”

We put on our jackets and boots, and I followed her out the front door.

Des and Juju came along, too. They always will, unless you make it a point to block them on your way out.

“I wasn’t sure I should show this to you,” she said as she led me toward the path that runs around the lake.

“Oooh…a dead body…”

“That’s not funny.”

“Sorry.”

As we walked around the bend, I kept an eye out for any new tracks in the snow. I might as well dampen the day by finding out that the coyotes were back after us.

“This is it,” Fiona said, stretching her arms out in front of her.

“It is…?”

“This.” She tapped her hand against a maple tree.

“A sugar maple. Didn’t know there was one so close to home.”

“Look closer,” she said.

I stuck my face an inch from the bark, sticking my tongue out at the same time.

“See the initials?” she asked.

I did. They were carved deep into the bark.

“RB + FR,” I said. “Who’s that?”

“You don’t know?”

“No. Well, I assume you’re ‘FR’.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not the ‘FR’…just like you’re not the original ‘RB’.”

“My last name’s Jeanbaptiste,” I said. “Remember?”

“Close enough,” she said.

“Okay…”

“It’s supposed to be funny, stupid.”

“It is?”

“ Ugh. Someone carved these years ago, and it’s funny because you’re like old enough to be my grandpa.”

“Harsh.”

“Well…it’s biologically possible, isn’t it?”

“There’s a lot that’s biologically possible.”

“So now you’re hitting on me?”

“That’s not funny.”

She laughed. “Yes it is.”

I laughed, too. “There’s no one else who’s as big of a goofball as you.”

“And there’s no one else old enough to use a word like ‘goofball’.”

“Well? What word would you use to describe yourself?”

“Smart…beautiful…sexy…”

“Uhh…”

“I’m getting cold,” she said. “Walk me home, Robert Baptiste.”

“ Jean baptiste.”

“Who cares?”

“I don’t.”

She leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “You’re blushing.”

“No…I’m freezing to death.”

She laughed.

I wasn’t sure what to feel.

Justin Porter stopped by just before dinner. Since it was just him, I knew that he wasn’t going to be bringing any cheer.

Sara came with me to greet him. Graham was fidgeting with the stove, but he stopped and looked up.

“I knew it,” Justin said as he stepped inside, bringing the snow with him.

“That you’re a douchebag?” I asked.

“Dave Walker just stabbed us in the back. Listen to this…” He held up his phone before he started to read. “‘We’re not interested in continuing arrangement at SQL. We’ve taken on a new partner.’”

“They’re backing out of Silver Queen Lake?”

“He’s telling us to back out.”

“Fuck that. We’re not giving it up.”

“Don’t tell me…tell him.”