Page 68 of The Midnight Hour
A sigh escapes her, long and weary. “I’m running out of road. I mean, I can’t cope on my own. I’m fully aware of that. Maybe it’s why I stayed with William for so long. And I need tobe strong for Ben.” She sounds angry with herself, and I feel a stirring of sympathy.
“You’re stronger than you pretend, Nicole,” I tell her, and she laughs.
“No, I’m actually not. This whole tough-cookie-who-doesn’t-care schtick? It’s just an act. You’ve seen me cry.” She says it like an accusation. “You know I’m not up for any of this. Plus, I have no idea how to garden, knit, pluck a chicken, skin a…I don’t even know, a deer. I’m totally,totallyhopeless at all that stuff, and, frankly, I’ve been okay with that.”
Improbably, I find myself smiling. “You could learn. I did. Ruby’s got a great book that teaches you all that kind of stuff, step by step.”
“A book?” She sounds understandably skeptical.
“Yes, but nothing like a little hands-on experience, though, it’s true.” I turn to face her, summoning a strength of conviction I didn’t realize I felt until this moment. “You and Ben could make a good life for yourselves here,” I tell her. “Let go of that tough cookie act, put how William treated you behind you as best as you can…This could work out for you, if you let it. If you let go of some of that cynicism—understandable, why you have it, but that doesn’t mean you have to keep it—and just…embraced this. What it could be for you, as well as for Ben…” I run out of steam as well as breath.
Nicole cocks her head. “Thanks for the inspirational talk.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Can I have that on a poster?” she asks musingly. “Or actually, a coaster? Too bad VistaPrint isn’t around anymore, or you could do a roaring business in the inspirational logo field. I really see this kind of thing taking off.”
I laugh. The sound is rusty but real. “Yeah, too bad. I could order a round thousand and sell them out of the trunk of my car. I mean, everyone needs a little motivational slogan in these times, right? To keep you going?”
“What about you?” She drops the joking, her expression turning serious. “You sound like you aren’t going to stay here.”
“I don’t know. We have to for now because…” I can’t make myself say it. “But as for the future? The rest of my life?”
Her eyebrows—still elegant—lift. “Can any of us think that way anymore?”
“Maybe not,” I allow. “Maybe I just need to be in this moment, crappy as it is, and not worry about the next one, never mind the one after that.”
“That sounds like good advice,” she replies, sounding sincere for the first time since I’ve met her, and we walk back to the camp in a silence that feels like solidarity.
I know we need to tell the kids about Daniel’s condition, but I’m not ready to have that conversation quite yet. So I help Vicky and Sheryl prepare lunch—pickled beets and bread made from nut flour—and then wash up.As long as I keep busy, I think, but I know that’s not true.
After lunch, I head back to the cabin to check on Daniel, to find he’s asleep and sweating out a fever. When I rest my hand against his clammy forehead, he doesn’t even open his eyes.
I decide it’s time to face some hard truths and figure out a plan for all of us.
Sheryl offers to keep Phoebe occupied in the kitchen while I gather my troops around me. We’re sitting in the living room of our cabin; Kyle started a fire in the log-burner and it lets out a cheery glow as well as a comforting warmth. The door to Daniel’s bedroom is firmly closed.
“So,” I tell them all. “We need to decide if we want to stay here.”
Mattie, quick as ever, answers incredulously, “Why wouldn’t we? I mean, where else are we going to go?”
“Remember what the Strattons said about somethinghappening out in North Dakota?” I remind her. “There might be places, whole cities, being rebuilt out there. If there’s a government, they’re going to want to restore order.” Even if it’s almost impossible to imagine life getting back to some kind of normal.
“I don’t want to live in North Dakota,” Mattie replies, obstinate now.
“You’d rather live in northern Ontario?” I ask with an attempt at a smile.
“Ilikeit here.” She gives me a look that manages to be both accusing and sympathetic. “People are nice, and it’s got a cool vibe. You don’t have to keep running, Mom.”
Which makes me look at Sam, for some reason, and once again he looks away. “I’m not running,” I reply, but my tone is unconvincing, even to myself. “Anyway, that’s not the point. I just wanted to know what you guys thought.” I glance at Sam, at Kyle, at Ruby. “Do you all want to stay?”
One by one they nod, although Ruby ventures, “I want to go where you go.”
“Thanks, Rubes.” I give her a quick, reassuring hug. “I’m willing to follow the consensus on this,” I tell them all. “If you want to stay, we’ll stay, and the community here will put it to a vote. Nothing is guaranteed, unfortunately?—”
“Don’t I get a vote?”
I turn to see Daniel standing in the doorway, looking terrible. His face is gray, covered with a sheen of sweat, and he’s leaning against the door frame like he doesn’t have the strength to stand up.
