That night I lay awake, restless. The puzzle of the man and woman in the woods stuck with me. I remembered that my grandmother had mentioned that forest spirits lived in the woods behind our house. Is that what I had seen? Forest spirits? Memories of old folktales floated through my mind, a kaleidoscope of different cultures. What, exactly, had I seen? And what, exactly, had they wanted from me? Part of me wondered if I had hallucinated the whole exchange. I knew, however, that whatever Grandma had done to me before the pandemic hit, her special tea, had changed me forever.
It was nearly two in the morning when I heard a snowmobile pull up outside the cabin. Ian had been missing all day. Even though we’d asked him to join us, he did not come for dinner. Part of me hoped he’d simply stayed in town.
Our dinner had been perfect. We used the old spit in the fireplace to roast the turkeys, and Jamie and Frenchie made a meal out of canned goods. Kira and Susan had looked truly happy, and I didn’t blame them. I also felt the happiest I had felt in years. Jamie played board games with the girls all night, giving me goofy and bashful smiles from time to time. Each time he did, I just wanted to scoop him into my arms and hug him until the world ended—again. I offered Jamie my spare room for the night. He was sleeping, snoring loudly, in Grandma’s old sewing room.
The front door opened and shut. I heard Ian slide the bars and locks closed. A few minutes later I heard him banking up the logs in the fireplace. I lay in bed and tried to sleep. After half an hour, the whole house felt incredibly warm. I slid out of bed. Checking on Jamie and Frenchie and her girls, I found everyone else was asleep. In the living room, Ian was sitting in front of a roaring fire. The temperature in the living room was ghastly hot. His head was bowed. He held a bottle of beer loosely in one hand.
“I thought you didn’t like warm beer,” I whispered, taking the bottle from his fingers, setting it on the side table.
He looked up at me and smiled, but I could tell right away that all was not well.
“What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “Nothing, I’m just not feeling great. I’ve been having bouts off and on for the last year or so. I just feel off, some pain in my stomach,” he said.
“Is it an ulcer?” I asked. I kneeled on the floor and opened the chimney flue to let some of the warm air out.
Surprising me, he took my hand. “I think so.”
“What did the doctor say?” I pulled my hand back.
“Nothing. I never went. We couldn’t afford it.”
The we in the sentence hung in the air. I put my hand on his forehead. “No fever. You feel cold?”
He nodded.
Trying to make as little noise as possible, I went into the kitchen and grabbed a teapot. I set the water on to boil in the fireplace. After a few minutes I could hear the water rolling inside the pot. I moved it from the heat before it could whistle and made Ian a cup of tea. He smiled at me and sipped it slowly.
“I think we need to call a town meeting,” he said after awhile. “The lake is frozen over, and the river is starting to jam with ice. I think people are feeling isolated, and at two houses I stopped at today, people had the flu. They were worried they had whatever killed everyone else, but Mrs. Finch thought it was just seasonal flu.”
“It might not be good to get everyone together if people are getting sick.”
“They could wear masks and gloves.”
“Let’s wait and make sure the flu passes. Don’t want to risk it. Unless there is an emergency, maybe we should just call everyone for a New Year’s celebration. After all, we did live.”
“That’s a good idea. We could even get out some of the old prom gear from the school storage, make it a party,” Ian added. He then smiled at me. “Remember our prom?” he asked.
“How can I forget? Poor Grandma, bless her heart, wherever did she find that terrible yellow prom gown? I didn’t have the heart to tell I wouldn’t wear it.”
“I remember they called you Big Bird, but you looked beautiful to me,” he said and smiled. “Hey, you still have that dress?”
“I am not sure I want to answer that question.”
“You should wear it again. Some people might get a kick out of it.”
“Some people?”
“Well, me.”
“I am not sure I want to open myself up to that kind of ridicule again.”
Ian set the cup down. He took my hands, stroking my fingers. “That was the best night of my life,” he whispered. We looked at one another. We both knew it was the night we’d made love for the first time.
“Jesus,” Jamie said as he ambled sleepily into the living room, “why the hell is it so hot in here?” He stopped and looked down at us.
I pulled my hands away, but I was too late.
“What the hell are you doing back so late?” Jamie scolded his brother.
Ian looked puzzled.