Chapter fourteen
Willow
T he wolves were active tonight. The quiet of the night was sliced with a chorus of haunting howls that sounded too close for comfort.
I shoved away my notes and rubbed my eyes. Three cups of half-drank tea sat amongst a pile of notes and my MacBook. Somehow, I’d made it through my midterm exams, but that didn’t mean I had time to rest.
Between my job and full-time classes, I barely had any time to think. I’d thought that was what I wanted – something to distract me from my own thoughts. But burnout was coming on fast, and I had no one to lean on. My dad was picking up extra shifts almost every time he could, like tonight, and my best friend Poppy’s texts were becoming further and further apart. I tried not to take it personally. She had exams, too, after all.
No matter what other people had going on, I was still alone and isolated – literally and emotionally.
The only thing that I was happy about was that I hadn’t seen those asshole Winston Brothers since that night. I wasn’t sure if it was a good sign, but I had to hope for the best. Maybe they were bored of me already.
A girl could only hope.
I stood up with a groan and went over to the kitchen, humming to myself as I boiled the kettle for another cup of tea.
The sound of the lone fire truck of our tiny fire department rushing by shook the windows. It was gone in a screaming flash of red and white lights.
I went to the fridge and grabbed the milk to stir into my decaf Earl Gray tea. The carton was light, but there was just enough milk for me to make one last cup. I took a deep sip as the sirens faded in the distance.
I’d have to get milk in the morning before my dad got home from his shift. He couldn’t survive twelve-hour night shifts without a giant cup of Maxwell House every few hours.
I’d given up on talking to him about how much he was working. I was lucky to see him a few hours a day, and I didn’t want to spend that time being upset with him. He was my only family now, so I had to live with it. Even if he made me angry and put his work before his daughter.
Men were so weird when it came to grief.
***
The next day, I made the long walk back into town. Thankfully, it hadn’t snowed in a few days, so the road wasn’t slippery and was easy to walk on. About halfway, a green truck rumbled to a stop behind me.
I jumped as the horn honked. The old Ford made the sound of a dying duck.
The window rolled down, and I saw Rose, the elderly Inupiaq lady who ran the general store. “You’re Mr. Moore’s daughter, aren’t you? Would you like a ride?”
I wasn’t about to say no to a free right. “Uh, sure,” I said, climbing into the cab that smelled like lavender and old cigarettes.
“Young ladies shouldn’t be out alone without a gun. It’s dangerous out here.”
“A gun?” I squeaked.
The old lady shoved her thumb in the direction of the back seat where a double-barrel shotgun sat. “There are wolves and bears out here. Whatever liberal west-coast opinions you have about firearms, you should leave them at the border. You need protection out here, missy.”
It wasn’t the wolves or the bears that I was worried about. I forced a nod. “Ok, I’ll think about it,” I lied.
The old truck rumbled into town and parked outside the general store.
“Thanks for the ride,” I said. “I was actually on the way to get milk before my dad got home. Who covers the store when you’re not there?”
“My daughter,” Rose said with a smile. The gold fillings on her teeth glinted in the morning sunlight.
I followed Mrs. Rose into the general store.
The bell above the door let out a cheery tinkle and a woman appeared behind the counter, where she was restocking gum and candy. She was beautiful; her long black hair was streaked with a bit of silver. She looked almost exactly like Rose but half her age.
“Welcome! Oh, Aaka ,” she said. “You finished your appointment early.” Her eyes slid over to me, and her smile brightened. “Oh, you must be Dan’s daughter.”
Dan. My Dad’s name. “Uh, yeah, do you know him?”
The woman’s cheeks went pink. “Uh, yeah.” She tucked her hair behind her ears and busied herself by restocking the candy. She wore the expression of someone worried they’d said something they shouldn’t have.
“This is my daughter Amka,” Rose said with a smile. “She works at the store and the local schoolhouse.”
“Nice to meet you,” I forced myself to speak, put off by the sudden discomfort on the woman’s face.
“You, too.”
I waited for more, but she didn’t speak to me again. I grabbed the milk and went back to cash. “How do you know my dad?” I asked as she gave me her change.
“Oh dear, I thought he’d told you.”
“Told me what?” I asked.
“That we’re dating.”