“I have what some people would call a black thumb. I can’t keep anything alive, not even the stuff people swear is immortal.” Andie looked at her over her mug of wine. “You’re not immortal, are you?”
“No.”
“Anyway, I’ve tried having plants in here, they all croak after a week or two.”
“What about some lettuce for Daisy?”
“I wouldn’t want to disappoint her with my inability to keep it alive long enough to have some leaves to harvest.”
“Hmm. We’ll see about that.”
Andie laughed. “What are you going to do, sneak in when I’m not here and leave plants on the windowsills?”
“Maybe.”
“Well, then you’d better be ready to sneak back in to water them, too, or all your effort will be for nothing.”
“Spaghetti is good.”
“Yeah, it’s alright, I guess it’s good I managed to cook something without burning the water.” Andie slurped up a forkful of pasta. “Thank you for dinner.”
“Thank you for the date.” Cat sipped the wine, which almost didn’t taste like diesel. “I wish it didn’t have to end.”
“Looking at that snow outside, it’s going to be a hell of a time getting you home. I bet the taxis aren’t even running right now, and I don’t trust my car in the snow.” She raised her mug. “Not to mention, I’ve been drinking.”
“I don’t want to ask my sister or the boys to come get me, not before the roads get plowed and salted.” It wasn’t untrue, but really, she just wasn’t ready to go home yet. She wanted to stay with Andie in her cozy, quiet apartment, and feel safe for just a little while longer.
“You could always…” Andie trailed off.
“Stay?” Cat asked hopefully.
“I don’t want to be presumptuous.”
“It’s for safety.”
Andie grinned. “Yeah. It’s the responsible thing to do. More wine?”
“Yes, please.”
As Andie topped up Cat’s wine glass, she scooted her stool closer to hers. “You should put some lights up or something in here. Get a little bit festive.”
“I haven’t really been feeling it, this year.”
“What if I said that was important to me?”
“Then I’d do it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Cat interlaced her fingers with Andie’s. “Maybe date number two can be hunting down the scrawniest, saddest Christmas tree we can find.”
“Why the scrawniest?” Andie asked with a laugh.
“I feel sorry for them. It’s not their fault no one wants them. Besides, they’re cheap. Have you seen what they’re charging for trees these days?”
“To be honest, I don’t usually bother with them. It’s just me and Daisy every year. She gets extra raisins, I get a microwave turkey dinner and a slice of frozen pie from the store.”
“That’s…” It might have been one of the saddest things she’d ever heard. Holidays with her sister and the boys were never fancy, but at least they had each other. “That sounds lonely,” Cat finished.
Andie scraped the last of the spaghetti from her bowl. “Yeah.”
“Maybe you could spend this year with us. If you wanted, it’s—”
“You should probably ask your Bear family about that first.”
“Oh.” Cat drained her mug. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”
“I’ll wash up, you can find something on television if you want.”
“Sure.” Cat climbed up on the bed, wrapping herself in the soft, worn throw that was draped over the corner. She flicked through the stations, flipping past the nightly news, a celebrity reality show, and a game show, settling on an old Christmas movie she used to watch when she was a kid. “Is this okay?”
Andie poked her head out of the kitchen. “Oh, I love this one. Turn it up.”
“Hurry, it’s about to start.” The sweeping orchestral intro burst through the tiny box television’s tinny speakers just as Andie crawled into the bed behind her and wrapped her arms around her.
“Are you warm enough?”
“I am now.” She texted her sister not to worry, and tossed her phone to the other side. “This is nice.”
“Definitely the best night I’ve had all year,” Andie replied, kissing her gently on the neck. “I wish it could always be like this.” She pulled back and drew her knees up to her chest. “Sorry, I just mean—”
“It’s fine,” Cat soothed, kissing her softly, and running her hands over the outside of Andie’s hoodie. “I know exactly what you mean.” She crawled beneath the covers and patted the bed. “Now come on, let’s watch this.”
Cat was already falling asleep fifteen minutes in. She must have been more tired than she thought.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Andie was leaving the real estate development office, breathing a sigh of relief. With the new building all squared away, she’d be getting ten more hours a week, enough to catch up on her bills in a few months, and start saving for a new camera. It was the good news she’d been waiting for, and after scraping through her bag for spare change to put gas in her car again, she was looking forward to not being quite so flat broke in the near future. Maybe she’d even be able to put some money away for a cheap weekend trip away with Cat, once the weather started getting warmer in the spring.
The mid-morning sky was bright and clear, though still cold enough to keep the snow from melting in the muddy banks on the sides of the road where the plows pushed it. She breathed in the clean, crisp air, and heaved a sigh of relief. Maybe things would turn out alright, after all. The new building would break ground in a week, and as soon as construction commenced, it would be her job to get photo evidence of the progress for the investors. The photos the reception staff had been taking were blurry and incorrectly framed.
She paused to rifle through her messenger bag, looking for her phone to text Cat the good news. The gentle night they’d spent together had been just what Andie needed to break out of her funk. The deadline for the wildlife competition was the same day as the new building breaking ground, and her camera was still toast, but she’d just try again next year. It made a world of difference to have at least one thing going right in her life.
“Andie?”
She looked up and met the stunned faces of Cat and her sister, Anita. “Hey! I was just going to text you.”
“What are you doing here?”
Andie tilted her head quizzically. “What do you mean what am I doing here? I work here. What are you doing here?”
“We’re handing in a petition to block the new building,” Anita said flatly, holding out a clipboard filled with signatures. “You work for these assholes?”
“I thought you knew that.”
“No, I didn’t know that!” Cat said through gritted teeth, her voice raising in volume. “Don’t you know what they’re trying to do to the reserve?”
“The new building will bring in lots of jobs—”
“Are you stupid?” Anita barked, laughing. “These Syndicorp assholes are going to be busing people in and out, there’s not going to be any jobs.”
“Well they gave me one,” Andie said defiantly, feeling a hot anger creep across her chest. “And it’s going to pay the bills I wasn’t going to be able to without my camera.”
“Fucking photographers,” Anita scoffed, nudging her sister. “I’m glad you broke it.”
“Shut up,” Cat said, narrowing her eyes at her sister.
“What? I thought you said—”
“Shut. Up. Anita.”
Andie glared from one sister to the other, the truth dawning. “I thought you said you didn’t have any control when you were shifted.”
“That’s—it’s not exactly true. But what I can’t believe is that you willingly shill for these monsters!”
“No. No, hang on here. You broke my camera on purpose?” It was like she could feel her heart breaking in real time.
“I
t’s not like I had a choice, I—”
“Of course you had a choice!” Andie shouted, her eyes filling with tears. “You could have trusted me!”
“I don’t know you!”
“Will you two keep it down?” Anita hissed. “We don’t need the entire town knowing our business, yeah?”
“Don’t worry, I’m going,” Andie spat. “We’re done.”
“We weren’t even anything to begin with!” Cat shot back. “I wouldn’t have even bothered with you in the first place if I knew you had zero morals!”
Andie was already stalking back to her car. “Whatever.”
“How could you betray us?”
“Bills have to get paid, Cat,” Andie said, wrenching open the door to her car, wiping away the angry tears that were already darkening the collar of her coat. “I thought you of all people would understand that.”
* * *
Andie sat in her car, parked in a sparse parking lot behind the grocery store, next to the street lamp that hadn’t worked for at least five years. She dialed her friend Mercy’s phone number. It went straight to voicemail. She dialed Parker’s number, and he picked up.
“Hello darling!” he chimed. “I haven’t heard from you in ages!”
“I texted you twice last week, you never responded.”
“Well it’s been absolutely crazy at work up here, you know how it is, in fact I’m about to go into a meeting right now, and—” someone who sounded exactly like Mercy laughed in the background. “Oh, don’t! You know I can’t with that, not with all the work at the paper I have to do.”
“Are you—are you both out to dinner? Without me?”
“Well, we know you’ve been struggling lately, we didn’t want to make you feel bad.”
“I could have just had a coffee or something, I miss you guys.”
“Andie… I’m sorry, love, I am, and Mercy is sorry too. We’ll get together soon, we promise. Anyway, our food’s here so…”
“Bye.”
“Talk soon.”
Andie leaned back into the headrest, trying to stem the tide of angry, silent tears that continued to slide down her face. She dialed her mom’s number and hesitated over the green send button. Was it really worth it to worry them over something so trivial? Cat was right, they didn’t know each other. Maybe it was just a fling, or a very weird fever dream. She erased the numbers one by one, and set her phone on the passenger’s seat.
The sun was already starting to set, emblazoning the tips of the tallest pine trees on the horizon with its winter fire. If she hadn’t gotten banned from the reserve, she’d go for a hike before it got dark. Maybe Cat had sold her out to the ranger, too, making sure she wouldn’t come back. Andie felt her jaw clench every time she thought about Cat, and yet, when her phone began to ring, vibrating against the worn fabric of the seat, Andie still hoped it was her.
“Hello?”
“Andrea!”
“Mom?”
“I was thinking of you and thought I’d call.”
“That’s weird, I was about to call you.”
“How are you?”
Andie took a deep breath. “Okay.”
“How are you, really?”
“Oh, you know,” she said with a sigh. “Same old.”
“Dad got a new job working up at the school. Head janitor.”
“That’s great! Tell him I said I’m proud.”
“Honey?” Her mother said, her voice muffled like she was covering the phone with her hand. “Andrea says she’s proud of you.” She laughed, and the sound was clear again. “He says thank you.”
“How is everything up there?” Andie asked, poking through her glove box absentmindedly. “Other than the new job.”
“Keeping busy, as always, you know.” There was a long pause. “We worry about you, you know. Across the country all by yourself, especially this time of year.”
“I’m fine, Mom.”
“Are you seeing anyone special?”
Andie rankled. “No.”
“Who is she?”
“It doesn’t matter, it’s stopped dead in its tracks.”
“Hmm. Well how’s work?”
“Fine, I guess.”
“Did you enter that competition you were talking about over the summer?”
“No.” Andie’s fingers fell on a receipt from months back, when she bought a lens for her camera. She frowned. “I decided to try next year, instead.”
“That’s not like you. Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?”
“Yes,” she spat, and then immediately regretted it. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m just a little distracted.”
“You know, Andrea, love isn’t always easy. Sometimes you have to work for it.”
“Who said anything about love?”
“No one. But a mother always knows, and I can hear the heartbreak in your voice.” Her mother sighed. “You don’t have to tell me what happened, and I suspect you won’t, not if you’re this upset. All I’ll say is that walking that mile in someone else’s shoes can clear up a lot of anger and hurt.”
“You’re probably right.” Andie flipped the receipt over in her hands. “But it’s her who needs to do the walking.”
“Alright well, I guess I’ll let you go. Sounds like you have plenty to be thinking about.”
“Thanks for checking in, Mom.”
“As long as you’re sure you’re alright. And you’re probably not planning on it, but don’t worry about coming back for Christmas, I’ve gotta work and your Dad is on call. He didn’t want to be requesting time off right out of the gate, you know.”
“Yeah.” It was like this every year, and this one would be no different. Work, cars breaking down, money, there was always a reason, and given how contentious things had been when Andie was a kid, she wasn’t in any hurry. One phone call every few months was plenty.
“Okay. Love you, Andrea.”
“Love you too, Mom.” She hung up the phone, examining the receipt paper in her hands. It gave her an idea. It was one hell of a long shot, but she had to try. It was the only way she could get out of this mess.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Anita knocked on the door to Cat’s room, and eased it open. “You still mad?”
“Yeah, I’m still mad. You shouldn’t have said anything.”
“She’s working for them!”
“Yeah, and maybe we could have had a conversation about it, but now she knows I intentionally stomped on and crushed her camera.”
“You did it to keep us all safe.”
Cat picked a piece of lint off her bear pajamas. “That doesn’t mean it was the right thing to do.”
“It was for us.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. Just leave me alone, Nita.”
“I made dinner.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“That’s bullshit,” Anita said, perching at the edge of the bed. “You’re always hungry.”
“I’ve lost my appetite.”
“I said I was sorry, Catriona!”
“And I said, I don’t want to talk about it!”
“Well how was I supposed to know?”
Cat turned and faced the wall to hide the tears gathering in her eyes. “Use your head, Sis. Why the hell would I have told Andie I smashed her camera on purpose? Jesus, those things are like five hundred dollars. Double that, even!”
“You had to, though. If she’d sold on that footage—”
“She wouldn’t have.”
“You didn’t know that then.”
“I should have.” Cat sighed and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Who would believe it was real, anyway? People would probably just think it was a hoax by an effects studio to get attention from big budget projects. I bet no one even would have cared.” She ran a hand through her hair. “But Andie’s a good person. She’s just trying to get by, like the rest of us—”
“The rest of us manage without working for Syndicorp,” Anita interrupted.
“She wouldn’t have sold the footage. She was right, I should have trusted her.”
“We’ve spent our entire adult lives running from something. We’ve had it beat into our brains to keep what we are secret, and safe. You were just acting on instincts that were burned into you a long time ago.”
“I have to make it right, Nita.”
“Well, what are you going to do? It’s not like we have five hundred big ones lying around to just get her a new one.”
“I don’t know. I need to research.”
“You know I love you, right?”
“Yeah. And you know I’d do anything for you, despite your big mouth and refusal to apologize in a genuine way because you are even more stubborn than I am.”
Anita reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. “I am sorry, Cat. Really.”
“You’re forgiven. Mostly. But you still have to help me fix it.”
“And how are we going to fit that in, around fighting the county’s desperation to bulldoze half the reserve and worrying about a teenaged Bear runaway?”
“I guess we should start with some food.”
* * *
Cat couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned, unable to turn off the scenes replaying over and over in her mind. Leaving the compound with Anita and the boys. The years of running and close shaves. Getting letter after letter in the mail with job rejections, saying she’d never be a nurse if she had to take so much time off. Smashing Andie’s camera. She sighed angrily and threw off the covers, shoving her feet into her slippers.
The house was quiet, and the kitchen dark. The others were sleeping, and it was hours until sunrise, but her stomach growled insistently. Getting hungry in the middle of the night wasn’t the most unusual thing to ever happen, but it was more annoying when there wasn’t much nice stuff around to eat. This time of year, their appetites increased, despite not actually going into hibernation. They’d start sleeping more, and if they didn’t get enough, they’d get sick, miss work.
Christmas, Pursued by a Bear Page 10