TWENTY-NINE

I’d forgotten how hard it was to miss someone—or did I ever know?

Leelo

“I’ll miss you.”

It’s been four days since Roar mumbled those hurried words, his face buried in my neck as we were standing by his truck.

He had only fifteen minutes left to get to the fire station. The rest of the time since he received the call was spent making arrangements to have Jackson’s Point looked after. Matt was on board, sticking around the lodge to see to any hands-on needs, and I got a crash course on his computer so I could access the booking site and emails. Patti would be by at her regular times, but Roar assured me I could call her with any questions. His last call had been to give Charlie a head’s up, and I promised him I’d check in on her regularly. He had no idea how long he’d be gone.

I didn’t expect him to reply in kind when I blurted out my feelings. I did that for me, because one thing I’ve learned in my years is that you never leave things unsaid. Life can be cruel, and I don’t want to be living with the regrets of missing a chance to let someone know how much they mean to me. I also don’t want to pretend I don’t know that his whispered “I know” and “I’ll miss you” convey he feels the same for me.

Roar’s feelings for me are clear in his actions, it’s just a matter of recognizing them, and I’m learning.

One such example is his request that Matt stay at the lodge as well, while he’s gone. Initially I’d balked, suggesting I’d be fine by myself, but now, after last night’s incident with a bunch of drunken guests disrupting the peace, I’m glad Matt was there to back me up. Sometimes my stubborn drive for independence gets in the way of common sense.

“Mom,” I hear behind me and I turn away from the computer screen. “Gwen wants to talk to you,” he says, walking in holding out his cell phone.

I haven’t spoke to Gwen since the incident with my ex last week, not really eager to get slammed with a regurgitated version of David’s interpretation of events. It would just cause more aggravation on both sides, which is why I’m reluctant to take the call.

“Hey, love,” I greet my daughter anyway, since there’s no way I could’ve refused her or the puppy-dog face Matt is giving me.

“We need to talk,” is the first thing out of her mouth, and I can feel the hair on the back of my neck standing up. Only the encouraging smile on my son’s face holds me back from reacting.

“Sure,” I offer cautiously.

“I have a week’s vacation coming up and I want to drive up.”

My mouth literally falls open, torn between elation and sheer panic. My daughter is a city girl, who needs her creature comforts. Plus, she wasn’t impressed with the ink I had last time I saw her, so I’m a little concerned with how she’ll respond to the additions since then, let alone the blue hair. She can be quite critical of me.

On the other hand, I love my Gwen, whatever way she comes, and I can’t wait to wrap my arms around my girl. If she’ll let me.

“Of course,” my mouth says before my brain has a chance to process. Where the hell am I going to put her? The motel is a shambles right now, and I feel awkward putting her up at the lodge.

“I’m staying at Matt’s cottage,” she volunteers, undoubtedly reading my mind. She’s good at that. “I hear he bought one.”

That last was a bit of a dig, but I guess I’d be a little pissed off at being out of the loop too, if I were in her shoes.

“He just did. Great, right?” When I don’t get a reaction I forge ahead. “So I guess he told you we’re staying at the lodge for now, right?”

“Yes, Mom, I heard all about your man.” The last doesn’t sound very friendly, but I decide to bite my tongue. “And not just from Matt.”

Ah, so I guess her father’s been in touch with her. It shouldn’t surprise me. He was always quick to launch complaints about me to the children.

“I see. Is he back home?” I ask carefully and listen to Gwen sigh deeply on the other side.

“Yes. Look, I really don’t want to do this over the phone, but that was a dick move by Dad, and had I known he was planning it, I would’ve given you a head’s up.” Another deep sigh and this time when she continues, I can hear a hint of vulnerability in her voice. “For the record, he wasn’t too impressed with me either when I told him as much.”

Typical of David, when he doesn’t get the affirmation he expects, he’ll turn on you. I’m sure that must’ve been a sobering experience for Gwen, and I’d love to offer her my ear, but she’s right, this isn’t something to be discussed over the phone.

“Sorry, sweetie,” I offer instead. “When are you coming up?”

“I should be there early evening tomorrow.”

“That’s a long drive, Gwenny,” I caution gently, knowing that she doesn’t usually take it well when I question her.

“It’s fine, Mom. I’m leaving at the butt crack of dawn. I can drive ten hours,” she scoffs, as expected.

“Just make sure you take regular breaks.” I can’t stop myself, it’s a mom thing and it works like a red flag on a bull with Gwen.

“I said it’s fine,” she snaps, effectively cutting off any further concerns I might have.

“Okay, love. Can’t wait to see you.” I don’t even try to tell her to drive safe, I assume she knows I’m thinking it though, as I hear a click on the other side.

My daughter may have a bristly exterior, but I know her. I know most of that hard facade is a defense mechanism to protect her sensitive heart. She has difficulty trusting people, especially those who’ve already violated her trust once. Sadly I fall under that category. I let her down when I couldn’t be strong enough for me, let alone her and her brother. I guess, in a warped way, it’s a tribute to me that my transgressions felt so much more of a betrayal to her than the stunts her father pulled. I take it to mean I always had the power to hurt her more, and therefore she will make me work so much harder to win her trust back.

But I will.

Roar

Jesus.

I spit out the coffee, which tastes more like engine oil. It’s probably been sitting in that big thermos all day.

A truck comes into the makeshift camp every morning, bringing bottles of water, sandwiches and coffee. If you don’t get a break until later in the day, like me today, the coffee tastes horrible, and if you’re lucky there’s only tuna on rye left. Nobody fucking likes tuna on rye. Especially not with the flavour of smoke permeating every bite, since it’s been sitting out all day.

“Doyle!” I turn around to see Rick, our fire chief, head toward me. “How are you guys doing on that firebreak up on the ridge?”

“Slow,” I tell him honestly. Our job since we got here on Sunday has been to try and contain the northeast edge. The winds have been mild and coming from the northwest, but according to the forecast, there’s a system coming through from the west that could drive high winds in north-easterly direction. Toward Wawa.

The past five days we’ve been clearing brush and cutting down trees to create a four to six foot wide trench uphill from the fire. The plan is that if those winds turn, a backfire will be lit along the break. It’s easier to control than the main body of fire coming up the hill.

I’d honestly expected to be home already. I’m too old for this shit. Every fucking muscle and bone in my body is screaming, and I’m dying to take in a deep breath that is not thick with smoke and ashes. I’m rank too. Fucking five days of splashing yourself at the back of a water truck, with cold water dribbling from a little tap, is not very effective.

“We don’t have much time,” Rick reminds me, not that he needed to, I know damn well the kind of time constraint we’re working under. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can miss you on Saturday. Looks like the system is moving faster than we thought, it could get here as early as midday on Sunday. We’ve gotta get that firebreak done, Doyle. I’m sorry.”

It isn’t really a surprise, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a disappointment. I’d wanted to surprise Leelo on Saturday, help out with the new guests checking in, but it looks like that’s not gonna happen. Worst part is that I don’t seem to have cell reception here. No towers nearby. Not that it matters, the battery ran out on my phone two days ago.

The chief has a satellite phone but that’s kept open for communications. He just uses it to check in with the fire station in Wawa every night. He did pass a couple of messages for us through the dispatcher there, who in turn relayed it to our families, mainly just letting them know everyone is fine.

I pull my sleeping bag in the shadow of one of the smaller trucks used to transport firefighters, and lie down on top of it. It’s too hot to crawl in, and I pull a T-shirt over my face to block as much of the light as possible. It doesn’t really matter what time of day or what conditions, when you have a chance to sleep, you take it. There’s no telling when the next opportunity will come along.

I don’t fall asleep right away though. My thoughts are on Leelo. I want to hear her voice, want to know how she’s holding up and what is happening at the lodge. I really fucking wanted to see her this weekend.

I shouldn’t have left without telling her I love her, too. 

Leelo

“It’s done, Mom,” Matt says, handing me the first few of the building permit applications he’s been working on. These are for the three added cabins along the water’s edge.

Roar had shown him the drawer in his office that held all the blueprints for the cabins at Jackson’s Point, as well as copies of the permit applications he had to submit at the time, and told Matt to “have at it” while he was gone. I’d been surprised, and Matt a little flustered, with the show of trust, but once my son got over his initial shock, he dove  right in. It’s amazing what a little show of faith can do for someone’s confidence.

My boy has only been here a few weeks but he is flourishing.

“So what now?” I ask, unsure what is expected of me in addition to my signature at the bottom.

“Not sure,” Matt says. “But I think it’s safer if you drop them off yourself. I can stay here and man the office.”

“I’ll get some more groceries too, we’re running low. Let me make a list.”

This would be the third time already I go grocery shopping this week. Matt’s appetite hasn’t waned yet, and I want to replenish what we use up. I have no idea when Roar is going to get back and I don’t want him to find empty cupboards. From what I understand from the updates I get from the firehouse, they’re still battling to get the fire under control.

Now that I have Gwen on her way, I should probably grab some stuff that she likes as well. Matt is a meat and potatoes kind of guy, but my girl has slightly more refined taste buds, so I cater to her on those very rare occasions where I can. Matt couldn’t care less. Like I said, as long as it’s got enough meat and carbs, he’ll eat anything.

Ace trots hopefully beside me to my Jeep. He likes rides apparently. I was over at the motel yesterday to grab a few more clothes, and he jumped in the driver’s side the moment I opened the door, so I let him come for the ride. Shopping is another matter. I doubt that he can come inside the Valu-Mart, and leaving him in the car with this ongoing heat would just be cruel.

“You stay here, buddy,” I tell the fierce-looking, but sweet-natured dog, whose pout is almost irresistible. “Tell you what—how about I bring you back a special treat?” Silly mutt is wagging his tail furiously like he understands what I’m saying.

“You’re gonna have him so spoiled, he won’t even know who Roar is by the time he gets back.”

I turn around to find Patti coming toward me. She must’ve just arrived.

Since the break-in at the motel, when she was the first person to reach out to help, we’ve been getting along surprisingly well. Still, we’ve never really addressed the awkward situation we find ourselves in.

“I’m sure Roar will hold his spot as alpha without much problem,” I suggest with a smile.

“Have you heard anything?” Her smile slowly disappeared to show the strain of worry underneath and I could shoot myself. I never even considered she might be worried about him, too. I’ve been faithfully keeping Charlotte up to speed with what little information I get, but have not once mentioned anything to Patti.

“Oh good Lord, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think—” I try to apologize, but Patti shakes her head sharply, cutting me off.

“You couldn’t have known,” she says, a kind smile on her face. “They used to contact me, years ago, when he was still more active. Roar felt it was better should something happen, that I pass the news to Charlotte. It’s been quite a few years since the last time he was called out, and I honestly never thought I’d be this worried—but I am.” Her sheepish grin warms me even further to her.

“He’s fine,” I quickly tell her. “They hope to get the fire under control soon, and when that happens, Roar’s unit is likely to be the first to head back home.”

“Hope so,” she says earnestly. “You know, I know I didn’t take it well at first, but I’m actually grateful you came here.”

To say I’m surprised would be the understatement of the century, but I keep my reaction level and try not to blurt out, “You are?” Instead I nod and wait for her to go on.

“I’m starting to see that I was desperately trying to hang on to Tom’s memory, by staying as close as possible to the only other person who could still feel his loss as acutely. I suspect Roar was doing the same, except he came to that conclusion long before I did.” She takes one look at me and buries her face in her hands, and I see her shoulders shaking.

I don’t quite know what to say. Standing in the parking lot of the lodge, in the middle of the day, having a really fucking deep conversation with my lover’s emotional ex-lover is well out of my comfort zone, but I shouldn’t be surprised. Everything in my life recently has been well out of my comfort zone, and I’m getting better at rolling with the punches. I dig through my purse and come up with a packet of tissues.

“Here,” I say awkwardly, shoving them at Patti, who lifts her red face from her hands. She takes one look at the tissues, then at my worried face, and promptly shoves her face back in her hands.

Well, that went well.

“No-oh,” she hiccups, reaching out with one hand to clasp my wrist. “I’m not crying. I’m laughing,” she explains, and I finally clue in. “It was your face. I’ve never seen someone look so utterly uncomfortable as you did. It was hilarious.”

-

I dropped the applications at town hall, and went to quickly check on Charlotte, who was busy beating some hapless seniors—young ‘uns, she called them, since they were only in their seventies—at euchre, and didn’t need anything from the store. I just finished my groceries, another two hundred dollars later, and am pulling onto the street when something occurs to me. I’m only two blocks from Henry Kline’s office.

Despite repeated attempts to get hold of him, we haven’t been able to so far. Either the man is supremely busy, we are very unlucky, or someone is doing a fabulous job at avoiding us. My money is on the latter. The problem is, I can’t figure out why.

I just spoke to the secretary yesterday, and she mentioned Henry would be out of town on business for an undetermined time, but when I pull into the firm’s parking lot, I clearly see his car parked in its marked spot. Why would she lie?

I park the Jeep in a vacant spot, throw a worried glance at my groceries on the back seat because I have frozen yoghurt in my bags, before I decisively get out of the car and head for the front door.

“Hi,” I greet the girl at the front desk with the friendliest smile I can muster, even though I feel like throwing a tantrum. “I’d like to see Henry Kline right away?”

“Let me call his assistant and see if he is available.”

The girl picks up the phone on her desk and in an on the spot decision, I reach over and place my hand over hers on the receiver.

“You know what?” I smile at her, hoping I look disarming and not slightly maniacal, like I feel. “I’ll just head up and talk to her myself. That way I can make an appointment if he’s not free.”

Her mouth is moving like a fish out of water, and I’m not about to wait until she finds her words. I rush past her and up the circular stairs to the first floor where his offices are. I’m rushing because I’d like to catch him and his assistant unaware, before they have a chance to come up with another excuse.

Pushing through the tall double doors I see at once Henry’s assistant rising up from behind her desk, and the door wide open to his office.

“Hi there!” I chirp nervously, waving as I hustle past the woman’s desk and into the office beyond, before she has a chance to stop me. “Henry!” I call out when I find him sitting behind his desk. “What a surprise. I was told you were out of town, I took a chance and look...here you are.” I hear a rustle behind me as his assistant finally catches up with me.

“I’m sorry, sir. She rushed right past me.”

Henry’s face which had been frozen in shock at my unconventional entrance, smoothed out in front of my eyes, and with a pleasant smile he turns to the woman.

“It’s fine, Rebecca. Close the door behind you?”

With just a few words and a flick of his hand, Henry is firmly back in control. Always with the impeccable manners—except when he doesn’t return my calls—Henry pushes himself up behind his desk and gestures at one of the visitor’s chairs. I take his silent invitation and sit down, and he lowers himself back into his seat, folding his hands on his desk.

“Now Ms. Talbot, what can I do for you?”