Regan Wolfrom - Coyote

There was a collective murmur, and I knew that there was no point in saying any more. I’d said the important part: trust no one.

Short and sweet.

I was even more tired now, so I tried to hide out in the kitchen with Fiona while she finished prepping the finger food, but she kept shooing me out like she was doing me a favour.

“You should be out there having fun,” she said on what I think was my third incursion. “Have a drink for me.”

“You know I don’t like to do that. Well, yes to the drinking part… but I’d rather just stay in here with you.”

“It ain’t breakfast time… we don’t need any eggs folded in here, boss.” She picked up a tray of what looked to be spring rolls to take to the oven.

I opened the oven door for her with a rather stupid bow. “Then I can wash dishes.”

“Don’t you dare… that’s my excuse for staying in here after the appetizers are served.”

I didn’t like that she was walling herself off from the others. “Why don’t you want to be in there?”

She stopped working and stared at me. “Why don’t you?”

“Seriously, Fiona… it’s New Year’s Eve. Do you know how many normal sixteen-year-olds would dream of having all the liquor they could drink?”

“I guess I’m not normal, then.”

“I don’t get you, Fiona. There are all these people out there who would love to know you better, but you don’t seem to want to let them.”

She rolled her eyes. “They don’t like me, remember?”

“That’s all in your head.”

“Oh, really? Exactly who else around here likes me?”

I knew she was fishing, that she just wanted me to make her feel wanted. I didn’t have a problem with that. “Well, obviously Sara loves you like a little sister, but that’s not a surprise. And Lisa thinks you’re pretty cool…”

“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?”