Regan Wolfrom - After The Fires Went Out - Coyote

“I call bullshit on that,” Fiona said.

“I’m not going to debate this with you.” I counted on my fingers. “Lisa likes you, Graham likes you…”

“Kayla hates me…”

“I think Kayla’s jealous of you.”

“Come on.”

“I’m not kidding. You’re smart, you’re pretty, you’re funny in a way that doesn’t bring anyone down…you’re like the total package, Fiona. Plus you’re younger than she is.”

“She’s only like twenty.”

I laughed. “One thing you’ll learn as you get older is that there’s not much to look forward to after you turn eighteen. You might pay less for car insurance, but that’s about it. One day soon, guys like Matt will stop looking at Kayla and they’ll only be looking at you.”

“Guys like Matt? What does that mean?”

I wondered if I would regret having mentioned the village idiot. “Think about it,” I said.

“Did he say something about me?”

“The next time you walk into a room, keep an eye on Matt. You’ll see it.”

Fiona let out a faint giggle. “Bullcrap,” she said. But I knew she believed me. “Keep an eye on those spring rolls…I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

She walked out of the kitchen into the chaos. I kind of wanted to go then, too, but I think I would have just gotten in the way.

Sara came downstairs fifteen minutes before midnight. Most of us were a little drunk by then, and I’m pretty sure she was drunk, too; I have a feeling Kayla’s flask gets loaned out anytime someone wants a private nip.

I didn’t go up to her; I felt like she needed to decide what to do with me. She gave and got a few hugs from family and near-strangers alike, slowly circling the room for a good ten minutes before she came to me.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You can kiss me at midnight.” There was no smile on her face.

“You’re still angry.”

“We’re not talking about it.”

I reached out for her hand. She didn’t pull away. “I love you, Sara.”

“You’ll say anything, won’t you?”

“I just want to make this better.”

She didn’t answer me.

People started counting down, so I joined in. Sara’s lips didn’t move.

“Happy New Year,” I said as I kissed her on the lips. I wrapped my arms around her and held on.

“Happy New Year, Baptiste.”

I hugged her for a good twenty seconds before she pulled away and moved on to everyone else. I gave Kayla a kiss on the cheek and offered Lisa a hug, and shook hands with pretty much everyone, even an in-the-bag Alain Tremblay.

Fiona came last, as though we’d both planned it that way.

She walked up to me and grinned. “Time to practice your aim,” she said in a quiet voice.

I drew her in with an arm around her shoulder and kissed her gently on her forehead. I lingered for a moment, my lips just off her skin, enjoying the warmth of another body, of someone who still thought I could do no wrong.

“Happy New Year, beautiful,” I said.

“I was going to say the same thing to you. Thanks for everything, Baptiste.”

“You know I love you, Fiona. You’re like…” I thought of Cassy and how much I missed her, and before I knew it I had begun to cry. “You’re like a daughter to me.”

That’s what I told her, and that’s all I want to feel.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s true.

Despite our collective hangover, we were all back to work before ten in the morning, Sara along with us. She wasn’t really talking to me yet, so I mostly kept out of her way. She was in the background, mostly, helping out but not taking charge. For all intents and purposes, Lisa was leading the setup of the Marchand cottage and she was doing an excellent job.

Lisa was smart enough to know that Sara was still angry with me, so she sent me and Graham up to the Porter’s to check out their extra cookstove. Justin Porter went with us, while Rihanna continued to work at the Marchand’s; he and I hadn’t really talked that much since he’d made it clear just what he thinks of my leadership.

The three of us walked together up the road; I didn’t want to hitch up the horses just yet, since I had no idea if we were even dragging the backup stove out of the Porters’ place, or how much time it would take to get it ready to move.

“Thanks again for letting us check it out,” Graham said to Justin as we walked.

“We’re all in this together,” Justin said. “But if our other stove conks out, you know we’ll be showing up at your place wearing lobster bibs.”

“Will you settle for coyote?” I asked. I didn’t realize until after I said that I might be throwing out some kind of challenge.

“Look, Baptiste…I know we have our problems right now.”

“You could say that…”

“But you could be worse. I mean…I’m okay working with you. You know how I feel about who’s in charge, but until the group decides to make a change…well, you’re it. I can deal with that.”

“So which Justin Porter am I talking to right now?”

“I know things get heated sometimes…”

“Heated? Is that what you call it?”

“I’m sorry, Baptiste. I want you to trust me. I want us to be a team. This won’t work unless we can get along.”

I couldn’t figure out his angle. I couldn’t see what he was plotting.

“Look, Justin,” I said, “I don’t know what this is about.”

“I made a mistake,” he said. “More than one. I know that you’ve made some too…we all have. But that’s no reason for us to turn on each other.”

“What’s this about?”

He hesitated. “Rihanna fucked up.”

“What?”

“Some of our supplies are missing.”

“Missing? Like you miscounted?”

“Like someone’s been breaking in and taking shit.”

“What? How long has this been happening?”

“She told me yesterday. Says it’s been happening for a while. A week or two…maybe longer. I went out and checked, and found footprints.”

“And you sat on it for a day and a half?”

“Did you follow the tracks?” Graham asked. “Any snowmobiles?”

“No snowmobiles from what I’ve seen. We tried following them, yeah…but there are trails all over the damned place. And the footprints are pretty much everywhere.”

“Hold on,” I said. “Are you telling me that there could be any number of unknown people wandering around in the woods and taking our supplies?”

“Who could it be?” Graham asked.

“Fuck, Justin,” I said. “Have you even mentioned any of this to Sara?”

“I was going to bring it up at the next meeting,” Justin said. “Rihanna’s still checking her counts to be sure. It looks like someone may have found a way into our basement through the old cellar door.”

“But there’s a heavy chain on that door, isn’t there?”

“Shit happens.”

“Shit happens? What the hell does that even mean?”

“I think Rihanna left it unlocked.”

“Rihanna…okay…so someone could be in your house right now and you wouldn’t even know it.”

“It’s a problem,” he said. “I should’ve kept a closer eye on everything. But you know…delegation…”

“We don’t do excuses around here. You say you want to keep us safe, but you don’t even notice strange footprints in your own backyard? You have some nerve challenging me…some real fucking nerve…”

“I messed up. I already said that.”

“Let’s just figure out the damage,” Graham said. “We can make Justin feel like crap afterwards.”