We find the clearing and settle down there. It’s not great, but at least it’s a solid open space with no trees or prickly branches. Jack suggests gathering leaves to form into makeshift beds for each of us, but it’s a far cry from the king-sized bed at the inn. If I close my eyes, I can imagine sinking into the silky sheets and memory foam mattress and pulling the down comforter over me. The image is almost painful.
But the worst part is the realization that I won’t get to speak to Emma and Aiden tonight. By now, Penny has probably put them to bed and given up on trying to reach me. I had promised Emma we would talk tonight. I imagine her lying awake in bed, her tiny forehead scrunched up with worry.
I wish I could talk to her. I would give anything to hear her voice for one minute and tell her I’m okay.
I reach into my purse, my hands shaking with desperation. Of course, there’s still no service and the battery is at five percent. The next time I take my phone out, the battery might be dead—this could be my last shot. I hold it up in the air, trying desperately to at least get one tiny bar. Just one bar.
Nothing.
I try not to think of my children or my dead best friend as I start gathering as many leaves as I can. As I’m putting together my makeshift bed, I look over at Michelle, whose right ankle is wrapped in an ace bandage from Jack’s first aid kit. Obviously, she can’t gather her own leaves.
“Do you want me to make a bed for you?” I offer. I’m trying to make nice, although I’m not sure if the gesture is quite enough to make up for, you know, sleeping with her husband.
Michelle barely lifts her eyes. “Sure.”
She could not possibly look less grateful. But then again, Michelle has never been a terribly effusive person. I start gathering some leaves for her
anyway. I don’t expect her to be falling over herself to thank me. She’s injured and probably in pain.
“I sprained my ankle once,” I say. “Mmm,” Michelle says.
I pick up a leaf from the ground that’s muddier than I thought it was. There’s mud smeared all over my hands. It’s caked in my fingernails and there’s no way to get it off without a water source. “I was going down some steps in high school,” I recall, “and I twisted my ankle on the last step.”
“Mmm,” she says again
“It happened right before junior prom.” I wipe my palms on my shorts. “I remember how upset I was. At the time, it seemed like the worst possible thing that could have happened to me. Isn’t that silly?”
I look over at Michelle, who is rifling around in her purse. “Michelle?” I say.
“Oh.” She flashes me a bored look. “Sorry, I didn’t realize your little story was still going on. What were you asking me?”
“Never mind,” I mumble.
Jack returns to our clearing with an arm full of twigs. Michelle rewards him with a big smile, but I wonder if she’s just doing it to get on my nerves. Even before Michelle had a reason, she has always disliked me. I felt it from the moment we first met—it was like she took one look at me and decided I wasn’t worth her time or energy. But I’ve never felt that animosity as strongly as I do right now.
I continue gathering leaves as Jack sets about building a fire. Noah helps him gather twigs of various sizes including a few big ones. He makes a little circle of rocks and then carefully places the branches inside in some sort of pattern he learned back in the Boy Scouts. I had thought he was going to have to rub two sticks together to make a fire, but thankfully, he brought a lighter. Before too long, we’ve got a decent fire going.
As I smooth out the leaves on the ground to form Michelle’s bed, I hear a sound from off in the distance. I pause, listening. Then I hear it again.
It sounds like a howl. “What was that?” I say.
“I didn’t hear anything,” Jack says.
Goosebumps pop up on my arms, despite the fire. It’s gotten so cold the last hour. “It sounded like a wolf.”
There was a period when Aiden was really into wolves, when he was writing a paper on them in third grade. He used to randomly spout out facts about wolves. That’s how I know that wolves usually travel in packs. So if there’s a wolf out there, there’s probably more than one.
Jack shakes his head as he pokes at the fire with a stick. “There are no wolves around here.”
“How do you know that?”
He shrugs. “There just aren’t wolves in these parts.”
“Well, maybe they came from another part.” I look over at Michelle, who is sitting against a tree, her bandaged left leg propped up on her monstrous purse to reduce the swelling. “Did you hear it?”
She doesn’t even lift her eyes. “No.” No surprise there.
“Maybe it was the wind,” Jack suggests.
It wasn’t the wind. It was a wild animal. I know it. I can’t help but think of those claw marks on the tree.
Warner comes into the clearing with a few more branches, which he dumps into the fire. I want to ask him if he heard the sound, but I have a feeling the answer is no. I don’t need another person to make me feel stupid.
“It could have been a coyote,” Jack says. “There are a lot of coyotes around here.”
“What could have been a coyote?” Warner asks.
Michelle rolls her eyes. “Claire heard a sound. It was probably the wind.”
I rub my arms for warmth and try to ignore Michelle. “Are coyotes dangerous?”
“Not usually.” Jack shrugs. “They’re usually afraid of people.
Especially ones in the woods. I doubt they would approach us.” “Unless they’re rabid,” Warner says.
Jack shoots him a look. “There aren’t any rabid coyotes in these woods.”
“Why not?” Warner lifts an eyebrow. “Because you don’t want there to
be?”
Jack shakes his head. “There just aren’t. Anyway, it was probably the wind.”
Except I can’t get Warner’s words out of my head. If a rabid coyote bursts into this clearing, we are done for. We don’t have a weapon. That coyote would certainly be able to bite at least one of us before we could overpower it. At least I’m not the sitting duck. If I were Michelle, I’d be terrified right now—the coyote would definitely get her first.
Eventually, we all settle down around the fire. The yellow flames are crackling around the wood Jack gathered, and the warmth radiates around us. Jack has his arm around Michelle, and she’s cuddling up against him. Noah is next to me, but there’s no cuddling. I can’t remember the last time the two of us cuddled. Hell, we barely touch each other anymore.
Warner is sitting across from me. He’s got his legs folded in front of him, and he’s staring at the fire with glassy eyes. I wonder if he’s thinking about Lindsay. Now that she’s not here, his presence seems really out of place. We barely know the guy, and what I know, I don’t like. I wish he could just disappear.
I feel intense itchiness on the left side of my neck, and I smack my hand against it. “I’m getting eaten alive here.”
“Yeah.” Jack swats at something in the air. “The mosquitoes are pretty active here. I might have some bug spray in my bag.”
He rifles through his backpack until he comes up with a spray bottle. He hands it off to me, and I give my arms and legs a generous spritz. I don’t know if it’s going to help, but it smells terrible. I hand off the bottle to Noah, who gives his own arms a spritz. He was smart enough to wear jeans, at least. He tries to give the bottle to Warner, who waves it away.
“Mosquitoes never bite me,” Warner says. “Lucky,” I mutter. “They always bite me.”
Warner shifts on the ground. “It must be your blood type.” “My… blood type?”
He nods. “I have A-positive blood, which is not the preference of most mosquitoes.” He looks me up and down. “What’s your blood type?”
The itchiness on my arms ramps up a notch. Warner is making me uncomfortable. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” He raises his eyebrows. “How could you not know your blood type?”
I shrug helplessly. “I… I just don’t.”
“Mine is AB-positive,” Michelle volunteers. Thanks.
“It’s very dangerous not to know your blood type, Claire.” Warner’s blue eyes are boring into me. “What if you were to get into a terrible accident and lost a lot of blood?”
“I…” There’s a buzzing sound in my left ear. Another damn mosquito. “I don’t know…”
He shakes his head. “It could be a matter of life and death. For you not to know something like that…”
Before I can sputter out another excuse, Noah speaks up, “She’s O- positive.”
I blink at him in surprise. “Oh. How did you know that?”
He smiles crookedly. “I remember the doctor saying it when you were pregnant with Aiden.”
I feel a sudden, surprising rush of affection for my husband. Of all the things he’s forgotten over the years, including my birthday last year, I didn’t expect him to remember my blood type. I suppose if I got into a terrible accident, he would have my back.
“That’s why mosquitoes bite you so often,” Warner says. “Mosquitoes love type O blood.”
Well, lucky me.
Jack is rifling around again in his backpack. “So we’ve got about a quarter of a bottle left of water,” he announces. “If we finish it now, hopefully we’ll be able to find water in the morning.”
The thought of not being able to find water tomorrow is unthinkable. Part of me wonders if we should conserve some of our remaining water, but I’m so thirsty right now. And a quarter of a bottle split between five people isn’t very much.
Jack pulls out the bottle with the remainder of our precious water. He lets Michelle take a few sips first, then he drinks himself, then passes the bottle to Warner. There’s hardly any left by the time it gets to Noah.
He glances over at me, takes a quick swig, then hands me the remainder. It doesn’t look any emptier than it did when Warner finished with it.
“Did you get enough?” I ask Noah. He nods. “I’m good.”
Well, I’m certainly not going to force him to drink more. I tilt the bottle back and drain the remainder down my throat. The water tastes a little chalky, but I could drink a gallon of it at this point. It’s almost painful to have to stop. I want to open it up and lick the inside.
I hand the empty bottle back to Jack. He tucks it away in his backpack. I hope to God we find water tomorrow morning. I don’t want to think about what will happen if we don’t.
I clear my throat. “Hey,” I say. “I was just thinking, maybe we could all say our favorite memory about Lindsay.”
The other four people around the fire could not possibly look less enthusiastic about this idea.
“Uh, sure,” Jack says. “That sounds like it would be… nice.”
I want to mouth the words “thank you” to him, but I don’t want to give any reason for Michelle to be more suspicious than she already is.
“Do you want to start, Claire?” Jack asks.
“Sure.” I shift on the ground, trying to get comfortable in the dirt. I never sit cross-legged on the ground anymore. Not since kindergarten. “I guess my favorite Lindsay memory is from college. I had just found out my jerk boyfriend was cheating on me…”
“Noah?” Michelle asks. She sounds like she’s teasing me, but there’s also an edge to her voice. I’m sure she has an inkling that my marriage is a mess. It doesn’t take a divorce lawyer to figure that one out.
“No. It was with some other guy.” I run a finger through the dirt next to me in the pattern of a star. “I dated him the year before Noah and I got together.” I glance at Noah, but his eyes are looking down at his muddy sneakers. “Anyway, when I got home, I was almost ready to start crying. So Lindsay suggested we break into the dorm kitchen, and we spent the night in there, baking and eating chocolate chip cookies.”
I don’t tell them all the details from that night. Like the way Lindsay stroked my hair to make me feel better. About how we made one cookie almost entirely out of chocolate chips. About how we got caught in our caper by the heads of the dorm, and Lindsay took all the blame.
I miss her so much already. I can’t believe she’s gone. I’ll never forgive myself for letting this happen to her.
“Okay, I’ve got one.” Jack pokes at the fire with a stick. “My favorite memory of Lindsay is the day I first met her. I was carrying this care
package from my mom up to my room, and I saw this really beautiful girl on the stairs, and I got so flustered, I dropped the whole thing and the box opened up. There were brownies everywhere!” He grins. “But the best part is that Lindsay and I ate the brownies off the stairs.”
“Ew!” I laugh.
“That’s all right.” Jack pats his gut. “I’ve got a strong stomach.” He squeezes Michelle. “How about you?”
Michelle frowns. “What?”
“What’s your favorite Lindsay memory?” he says.
“Oh.” She shrugs. “I didn’t know Lindsay very well.” “Yes, but you must remember something about her…”
Michelle grits her teeth. She does not want to participate in this game. Truth be told, I don’t think Michelle liked Lindsay any better than she liked me. And Lindsay didn’t think much of Michelle. She’s so cold—like she doesn’t have any real emotions, Lindsay used to say.
“She had nice hair,” Michelle finally says.
I shoot her a dirty look. Of course, if Lindsay is somewhere up there listening in, I don’t think she would be unhappy with that memory. She would want to be remembered as having nice hair.
“I’ve got one,” Noah speaks up.
His hazel eyes are staring into the fire, and there’s a ghost of a smile on his lips. It makes me realize how infrequently I see Noah smile these days.
“So when I decided to propose to Claire,” he says, “I asked for Lindsay’s help picking out a ring…”
I raise my eyebrows. “You did? I never knew that.”
He smiles crookedly. “Yeah, and you’re lucky I did. You don’t know what ring I would’ve picked out on my own.” He shrugs. “Anyway, she helped me pick out the ring, and she even bargained for a better price. I mean, it was this fancy jewelry store and somehow she was haggling with them. But it worked. I never would have gotten such a great ring without her.”
“It was a really nice ring,” I say softly. I never wear my engagement ring because it’s too nice. I’m afraid I’m going to lose it or get mugged or something.
His eyes are distant. “And she made me review what I was going to do when I proposed. She insisted I had to get down on one knee, even though I thought it was cheesy. She was like, ‘Noah, the one knee is not optional.’”
I find a smile touching my own lips. “I did love your proposal.”
“Yeah, well…” His eyes drop back down to his sneakers. “I really, really wanted you to say yes.”
There was no way I wasn’t going to say yes to Noah. We had graduated a couple of years earlier, and we were already living together. Even though we had been together since college, I was still so infatuated with him. He could’ve proposed to me with an onion ring and I would have said yes. But I loved that he got down on one knee in the middle of a nice restaurant and presented me with the most beautiful ring I had ever seen in my life.
“How about you, Warner?” Jack says.
Warner frowns. “I don’t know. I don’t have a favorite memory.”
“You don’t have any memories of Lindsay?” I say. That probably came out a bit more confrontational than I meant it to. “None at all?”
“Not really. Nothing that stands out.”
Something about this man is really starting to irritate me. “But you were dating for six months. How could you not have any memories of her?” “I have memories of her,” Warner says patiently. “I just don’t think any
of them are worth mentioning.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “She told me you were going to propose this week.”
His mouth falls open. “She told you that?” “She certainly did.”
A smirk plays on his lips. “Well, I’m afraid she would have been very disappointed.”
I blink at him. “She told me you hinted you were looking at rings.”
“Yeah, well.” Warner kicks at the dirt with the heel of his shoe. “Lindsay had a very vivid imagination, as I’m sure you know.”
I want to jump off the ground and strangle Warner with my bare hands. My hands ball into fists, but before I can do anything stupid, I feel Noah’s palm on my leg. I look over at him and he shakes his head.
“Not worth it,” he says under his breath.
He’s right. What’s the difference if Warner would have broken Lindsay’s heart? There’s nothing I can do about it at this point anyway. Better to let it go. After this week, I’ll never see Warner again anyway.
“I’m exhausted,” Michelle announces. “Are we still reminiscing or can we go to sleep?”
I want to be irritated at Michelle for her comment, but I have to admit, I’m tired too. I can’t even keep my eyes open anymore. Everybody nods in agreement and with the fire still going, we curl up on the uncomfortable forest ground to try to snatch a little bit of sleep. Michelle and Jack cuddle up together, and I feel a jab of jealousy. Noah and I are sleeping as far apart as we do in our bed at home.
The ground is not comfortable. That’s an understatement. I never considered myself any sort of princess, but sleeping on dirt is not ideal—the leaves do nothing. A rock pokes me in the small of my back and there’s some sort of plant jabbing me in the shoulder blade. Every sharp edge in my body is suddenly in pain.
I turn onto my side, hoping that might be better. It isn’t. I try my back again. That’s probably the best position, but it’s far from comfortable. I would give my little finger for a pillow or a blanket. Hell, I might give up two fingers for that.
Even so, I’m very tired. The sky is overcast, but I can still see the moon above. It’s a full moon, and there’s something almost hypnotic about it. My eyes start drifting closed. Until…
I hear a howl.
I sit up straight, suddenly wide awake. “Did you hear that?” Michelle groans. “Oh my God, Claire, go to sleep!”
“Something howled.” My heart is pounding as I look around. “Nobody else heard it?”
“I think you’re hearing things again,” Jack says.
My face burns. He’s taking her side. Yes, she’s his wife. But he doesn’t love her. My relationship with Jack has been the only thing keeping me going for the last few months. It’s really hard to see him all lovey-dovey with his wife, even if I know it’s just an act.
Noah sits up, rubbing his eyes. “I heard it.”
At that moment, I forgive him for all the toilet paper rolls he failed to change over the years. “You did?”
He nods. “It sounded like a wolf or coyote or something.”
“It was probably just the wind,” Jack insists. “But whatever it was, it’s very far away. I wouldn’t worry about it, especially with the fire going.”
I scramble to my feet and look around us. For the most part, we’re surrounded by trees, blocking my view of our surroundings. There could be a coyote ten feet away, licking its lips, and we would have no idea. There are small gaps between the trees, but there’s no visibility. Especially not at night, with only the small fire and the moon illuminating the clearing. If only we had brought a flashlight.
I hear the howl once again. Is it getting louder?
I step over to one of the trees in the direction of the sound. I squint into the darkness. I can’t see anything. I take another step, my heart thudding in my chest.
“Claire?” Noah says. “What are you doing?”
I take another step, listening for the rustling of leaves. Or the sound of an animal’s footsteps growing closer.
Something brushes against my ankle. Something that feels like fur. I let out a screech and jump away. But when I look down at the ground, there’s nothing there.
“Claire!” It’s Jack’s voice this time. “Stop worrying about it. We’re
fine. The animals will leave us alone with the fire here.”
I take a shaky breath. I suppose he’s right. And even if it’s not, what can we do? One of us could stay awake and be coyote watch all night, but I don’t see any volunteers. I might volunteer, but my eyelids feel like lead.
“I’m sure it will be okay,” Noah murmurs.
I nod and settle back down on my makeshift bed of leaves. There’s not much we can do either way. I’ll just have to hope for the best.
