As much as Sara would support my decision, it wasn’t hard to tell that she was hoping I’d turn the cart around.
“We’ll come back on Boxing Day,” I said. “It’s Christmas Eve and I don’t feel like doing any heavy lifting.”
We rode back home as the sky grew dark, eating and drinking the gifts we no longer expected we’d be giving away.
I’d made sure not to have too much ice wine, which was helped by the taste of it, but Sara was getting pretty drunk.
“I loved Christmas,” she said as we made our way home.
“You don’t anymore?”
“What Christmas?”
“Come on… you can still find something to love about it. Ice wine?”
“I can drink ice wine anytime, Baptiste. We used to sneak it into school.”
“Elementary?”
“High school,” she said with what may have been a little burp. “I used to pour out bottles of apple juice and fill them up with the good stuff… you can’t really tell the difference unless you look really closely.”
“I would have loved to see Sara Vachon in high school.”
“Sure… perky breasts… well… they’re still pretty good.”
I laughed. “I know they are.”
“I wasn’t cool in high school, Baptiste. Not like now.”
I laughed again.
“What’s so funny?” she asked. “Anyway… I’d share the ice wine so people would like me more.”
“I’m sure they liked you enough.”
“They called me tampon.”
“What?”
“Vachon tampon… it rhymes.”
“I don’t get it.”
“I used to stick myself into the middle of things, always trying to keep the peace…”
“Used to?”
“Shut up. Sophie Minot used to tell me that whenever I showed up, I plugged up all the fun.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“She’s a bitch.” She sighed. “She was a bitch. I’m sure she’s dead now… I think she moved to Toronto.”
“Good riddance, I guess.”
“She wasn’t all bad. She had the tightest ass…”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
“I’m kidding,” she said. “Now don’t go and plug up all the fun.”
“I like you, Sara the Tampon.”
“That’s Vachon tampon to you.”
We found that everyone at the cottage had been drinking too, even Fiona, though she seemed aloof from the others, sitting at the dining room table and flipping through a magazine about cottages and whatever. Everyone else were carrying on in the living room, making enough noise that it sounded like there were fifty of them.
There was too much drinking. It wasn’t safe.
But I was too tired to be angry.
“Have a drink,” Kayla said as we came inside.
“The Girards are gone,” Sara said.
“They left just before Christmas?” Matt said. “That doesn’t make much sense.”
Sara threw her hands in the air, flopping them left and right before landing them on her hips. “I’m going to bed,” she said.
She started towards the stairs, her steps uneven. I wrapped my arm around her and helped her up the steps. I took her to her bedroom instead of mine, but found that Lisa had converted the second bed to a place to keep her clothes in neat little stacks.
“Looks like you’re bunking with me again,” I said. “I didn’t realize we’d officially moved in together.”
She gave me a sloppy kiss. “You can’t get rid of me, mister,” she said in a yelling whisper.
I laid her down on my bed and pulled the covers over her.
“Good night,” I said before kissing her forehead. She was already asleep.
I came back downstairs for a Christmas toast. I swooped into the dining room and gave Fiona a smile; she followed me out to join everyone in the living room, even though she didn’t seem happy to do it.
The mood had already changed among the drunkies. They still had their drinks in hand but theirs smiles had gone. The only person who even bothered to look up when Fiona and I walked in was Matt, and I know he wasn’t looking at me.
“There’s not many of us left,” Kayla said. She was standing and staring out the window toward the frozen lake.
“There’s still the Walkers and New Post,” I said. “Those are some big numbers right there.”
“With everyone else taking off,” Graham said, “you gotta wonder if they’re onto something.” He was on the couch with his arm around a sleepy-eyed Lisa, who slowly nodded in agreement.
“We’ll need to head back out there and have a look,” I said. “We don’t know anything for sure.”
“Sounds good,” Graham said. “Maybe they left something worth taking.”
“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.”