Chapter 54
Remy
“This feels bizarre,” I told Jordy as we walked through the quiet streets to Daiyu and Trevor’s house on the other side of town. It was only about five minutes away, and the brisk air felt good on my cheeks.
“You were the one who told Daiyu you wanted to get out more,” Jordy reminded me. He was carrying a platter of spruce tip shortbread cookies he’d made, but his other arm was looped through mine, in case I slipped on an errant patch of ice.
“Yeah, but I meant that I wanted to get back out into the woods with Ripley to do some hunting,” I said.
“That may be what you meant, but what Daiyu heard was that you wanted to socialize more, and that’s how you got us an invitation for dinner with her and Trevor,” Jordy said.
“We could’ve declined,” I said.
“We could’ve,” he agreed. “But if I recall correctly, you were the one who replied, ‘Sure, that sounds wonderful.’”
And I couldn’t argue that because he was right. We’d been down at the greenhouse, gardening and harvesting here and there. The Warden had stopped in to check on us, and she seemed so happy when she invited us over, I had just said yes.
The spring thaw coincided with the end of my convalescence. Well, Jordy kept reiterating that I needed to take things slow, and I could definitely feel that I wasn’t up to one hundred percent. But I was able to get out and explore the town.
At the beginning of April, I had started working at the greenhouse in the afternoons. Some of the work there could be labor intensive, but Jordy was there to supervise and make sure that I didn’t push myself too hard.
Daiyu greeted us at the door of her cabin with a wide smile.
As she had been every time I’ve seen her, she was dressed entirely in black.
This time a floor length sweater dress with a snood neck.
Her hair was once again pulled back in a low ponytail, but she’d added a pair of mismatched earrings.
One was a plum blossom carved from bone, the other a butterfly wing twisted from copper.
“Come in, come in,” she said as she ushered us into her spacious cabin.
The wood floors and exposed timber beams overhead were in warm honeyed tones.
The main room with its vaulted ceilings was anchored by a stone fireplace with a scattering of cushioned chairs and patchwork throws tilted toward it.
Shelves lined the walls, brimming with worn books and various antiques.
“Trevor’s in the kitchen finishing up,” Daiyu explained, and the clattering of pots and the savory aroma wafted out of the kitchen, hidden from us behind a staircase to the second story loft.
“I hope he didn’t go to too much trouble for us,” I said.
“Oh, no, he’s going to all this trouble for the goat,” Daiyu explained. “He came back from a hunting trip yesterday, and he’d managed to land this beautiful – ”
Trevor suddenly poked his head out of the kitchen archway.
He wore a white apron over his clothes, and it was stained red and brown.
“Are you telling them about the most beautiful mountain goat I landed yesterday? He was a ten-inch billy. I have his horns hanging over the kitchen sink if you want to have a look after supper.”
“Uh, sure, maybe,” Jordy replied for us both.
“And the meat –” Trevor paused to do a chef’s kiss motion. “I’ve been slow braising the shanks all day, and you are in for a real treat, my friends.”
“Trevor might not be a humble man, but he’s not exaggerating about his cooking and hunting prowess,” Daiyu said after he had ducked back into the kitchen to finish the meal.
“I brought cookies.” Jordy held up his platter. “They aren’t as fancy as Trevor’s slow braised shanks, I’m sure, but I made them for you anyway.”
“I’m sure they’re wonderful,” Daiyu said. “Why don’t you take them into Trevor, while Remy and I have a chat by the fire?
“Sure.” Jordy gave me a reassuring smile, then headed off to the kitchen, leaving Daiyu and I to sit on a loveseat near the fireplace.
“I’m afraid that you and I may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” Daiyu began.
“I don’t know about that,” I said.
“I don’t want you to think of me as some kind of hard dictator,” she went on. “This really is a welcoming community with a good group of people. But the world is a dangerous place, and I need to keep my good people safe.”
“No, I get that,” I said.
“The Warden isn’t a title I gave myself, and if I’m being honest, I think it’s a little much,” she confessed.
“I have always thought of myself as more of a steward for the town, overseeing its safety and viability on behalf of everyone who lives here. But the title of ‘stewardess’ sounded patronizing for the role.”
“That is understandable,” I said.
She leaned against the arm of the loveseat and crossed one of her legs over the other. “Jordy is a very beloved member of our community. He’s an intelligent, capable, resourceful young man, and on top of all that, he’s handsome and compassionate.”
“I have noticed all of those things,” I admitted, glancing back over my shoulder to see Jordy helping Trevor in the kitchen.
“I never doubted that,” Daiyu replied. “The same way that I don’t doubt you are a strong, resilient, intelligent young woman, and you’re beautiful. So I’m not surprised that Jordy has grown so fond of you.”
I looked down at my lap, unsure how to reply to words that somehow seemed to straddle the line between compliment and criticism.
“My question is simply this, as someone who cares about Jordy, and as someone who has a stake in his well-being: what are your plans with him?” Daiyu asked.
“I am leaving at the end of May,” I answered carefully. “And he knows this. He’s always known that I can’t stay here for too long.”
Daiyu seemed to appraise me a moment longer, and then she relaxed into a smile. “As long as the two of you are on the same page, then you have my blessing.”
“Th-thank you?” I replied uncertainly.
“Daiyu, my love, Remy, my guest,” Trevor said, poking his head into the main room again. “Dinner is about five minutes out if you’d like to have a seat at the table.”
I stood up, smoothing my shirt. Jordy headed out of the kitchen at the same time as Daiyu went in, saying something about getting the wine.
“How are you doing?” Jordy asked in a low voice, when it was only the two of us standing next to the round table beneath an antler chandelier.
“Dandy. You?” I asked.
He smiled down at me as his arm snaked around my waist. “I’m great, but I knew I would be. These are my friends, after all.”
“Are you saying you were afraid that they wouldn’t like me?” I asked, pretending to be appalled.
He pulled me closer to him and lowered his voice even more. “No, I was afraid that you wouldn’t like them.”
“I like you,” I reminded him. “Isn’t that enough?”
He kissed me, his lips brushing against mine, but when Trevor came out of the kitchen a moment later, I gently pushed Jordy away from me.
Trevor brought out a platter of braised goat shanks, and Daiyu poured generous glasses of wine.
As plates were passed and everyone helped themselves, the mood relaxed, and we began trading stories.
Trevor told about the time he’d defended himself against a zombie using only an American Girl doll, Jordy regaled us with the time he burnt off his own eyebrows trying to make an antibiotic ointment, and we drifted into a debate about which luxury of civilization we missed the most.
Towards the end of the meal, when our bellies were full and our glasses were empty, the conversation turned to life outside the safe walls of Xwechtáal.
“How have you survived so long without a community?” Daiyu asked, her gaze turning to me. She was leaning into Trevor, his big arm wrapped around her shoulders, and her cheeks were flushed. “I admire an independent spirit, but it seems too easy to end up as food if you’re on your own.”
“Having a lion helps,” I replied cagily, and Daiyu laughed.
“Most living things die to be food. Except for humans.” Jordy leaned forward, resting his arms on the table.
“We’d removed ourselves from the equation of ending up as something else’s meal.
All zombies did was rebalance it so that we’re included in the food chain again.
We think that now life is so unfair, that the world has ended, but the world is the same as it’s always been. The rules just apply to us again.”