“I can’t imagine what that would be like.”
“Stop it, Kayla, okay? Just change the goddamn subject.”
“Okay… sorry… I just wanted to know.”
“Yeah,” I said.
We finished making dinner without talking about much else, and I set the table and wondered why no one was back yet.
The three of us sat down and had dinner, Matt finally putting the shotgun down.
With the way Matt still looks at Kayla, I don’t think he has any idea what she and I have been up to; I doubt he’s been given a copy of that plan of hers.
The three of us sat in the living room after we’d eaten. We hadn’t done the dishes, since we were expecting more diners to show up.
“Fiona just messaged me,” Kayla said. “They’re on their way home.”
For a fleeting moment I was surprised she hadn’t messaged me. Then I remembered how I’d left her behind, and it all started to make sense. I was now higher on her shit list than Kayla.
“Must not be far if she was able to send a message,” I said.
“They’re on New Post Road. Fiona sent me one earlier, not long after you guys found her, all the way from Birchill. I’m surprised she had a signal out there.”
“I didn’t even check.”
“Yeah… apparently Sara’s pissed about that.”
“What?”
“She’s pissed. Apparently you didn’t tell her what was happening. She only found out when Fiona messaged her that you guys had found Gwyneth. Personally, I think she’s lost the privilege of being the first person you tell.”
“Yeah… it doesn’t matter what she thinks.”
“I don’t disagree.”
That time I was the one who leaned in for the kiss.
I heard a snowmobile arrive a few minutes later. I went downstairs to check, leaving Kayla in my room. We hadn’t done much.
But probably enough for Matt to get the message.
Justin was the one who stepped into the house, which was odd, since I don’t remember inviting him over.
“We got ’em,” he said to me as he kicked off his boots by the door.
“Where are they, then? You just took off in front of them?”
“The cart’s a little slow. And you know, I have a family to care for. It’s hard being the support system for two of those now.”
“So you’re just here to taunt me? Like you’re looking for a fistfight?”
He smiled. “Come on, Baptiste… I was just messing with you. Don’t be so mopey.”
“Don’t be such an ass, Justin. Let’s start with that, shall we?”
“Sure,” he said with a grin. “Sorry about Sara, eh?”
“What about Sara?”
“You know… that you two are on the outs. It was a good run, though.”
“How is this your business?”
“Well, when Sara starts sniffing around me because you’re not cutting it for her… that makes it my business. I mean, I’m a married man…”
I stepped up to him and gave him a shove. “Get out,” I said.
“Easy, guy… the heart wants what it wants…”
“Get out of my face, Justin.”
“Sure, pal… I’ve got a place to be.” He turned and headed toward the door. He stopped and gave me a smirk. “Don’t worry… I’ll make sure Sara isn’t… neglected…”
“Don’t you have some supplies to give away?”
He walked out onto the porch. He gave me a wave as he left.
Kayla came downstairs.
“What an asshole,” she said.
“You heard all that?”
“No… I just know he’s an asshole.”
I laughed. And then I followed her back upstairs.
I heard the cart coming, and I started climbing off the bed.
“Don’t,” Kayla said. “They’re fine. They don’t need you right now.”
She put her hand on my shoulder and started rubbing.
I laid back down.
“We can’t do this now,” I said.
“Why not?”
“What if someone comes up here?”
“Let them come. As long as I get to go first.” She started kissing my neck.
I appreciated the sentiment, but I wasn’t really that type of guy.
I flipped her onto her back and pulled off her shirt.
“Oh,” she said. “So that’s how you want to do it, Big Daddy?”
I almost cringed at the nickname. But I held it in.
The last thing I wanted to do was turn her off.
I started kissing her neck, like she’d done mine. I listened to her moan… I loved the sound more than anything else.
Kayla Fucking Burkholder…
I felt like I was cheating now… on Sara… on Alanna… but I wanted to cheat… I wanted to just do what I wanted, to tell the world “to hell with it”.
So I took Kayla on my squeaky double bed.
It was amazing.
She is amazing.
I am amazing.
Today is Saturday, January 5th.
I woke up with Kayla beside me.
I guess there are no secrets anymore.
We dressed and then we went downstairs together, not clinging like newlyweds, but I’m sure it’d be obvious that we were a couple of sorts.
There was no one there.
I pulled out my tablet.
No messages.
“What the hell is going on?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Kayla said. “We did sleep in.”
“By a half hour, maybe…”
“Message Graham… he still… um… doesn’t hate you…”
“Thanks.” I queried for Graham’s whereabouts. He was up the road, between the Tremblays and the Porters. “He’s heading to see Justin,” I said.
“That’s… odd…”
“They’re going to have a meeting about us,” I said. “What to do with Kayla and Baptiste…”
She smiled. “Nah… probably just an orgy.”
I went along. “But you love orgies.”
She chuckled. “So I’m the one who should be worried.”
We put on our jackets and boots. I unlocked the chest by the door and found all three sets of vests and helmets. I didn’t put one on, but I can’t say I wasn’t tempted.
We walked up the road toward the Porters. As we passed the Marchands, I tried to see if I could see anyone through the windows. I couldn’t.
We passed the Tremblays; I couldn’t make out anyone there, either.
Then I saw someone, at the Williams’ place, the next cottage up the road. The skinny Marchand kid, splitting firewood just outside the boarded up front window.
“What’s going on?” I asked him.
“Splitting wood,” he said. “For the girls.”
“The girls?”
He stopped splitting. “Uh… yeah…”
“Gwyneth’s moving in here,” Kayla said. “Am I right?”
“That red-haired girl…” the boy said. “And that pretty brunette… Fiona…”
“That pretty brunette is only sixteen,” I said.
“So? I’m seventeen.”
“They’re moving out… fuck…”
The door to the Williams’ place opened.
I looked over to see Sara.
“I’m moving out, too,” she said. “There’s no way I’m going to be living with the two of you.”
“We can’t afford this,” I said. “We’re going to heat five cottages? This kid’ll be splitting a lot of firewood.”
“This kid?” the boy said. “Do you even know my name?”
I shook my head. “Sorry…”
“Same as you. Robert. Robert Émile Marchand.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said, really not caring. I turned back to Sara. “You can’t do this, Sara.”
“I can’t do what, now?” she said. “I can’t fuck Kayla behind your back… oh, wait…”