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Manon leaned on my shoulder with one arm, her other hand clutching a glass containing far too much alcohol. She had spent the previous night in the hospital, was discharged that morning, and spent the day helping us clean up. That evening, she was with us atthe Curved Grape, in high spirits as if nothing had happened. That wasn't the case for everyone present, particularly Gray, who, though he joined us, was mentally at the B and B the entire time. None of us could blame him, which is why Wilder strategically placed him at the bar, not only to keep an eye on him but also to signal that he was there to listen—and to keep his drinks topped up while Manon and I tucked into one of the cozy nooks so we could watch everything.
We shared a massive plate of poutine, a substitute for the dinner we had initially planned. None of us felt like spending time in the kitchen… or anywhere near the remains ofWildwood Hideaway.
Manon would be crashing on our couch until she was able to head back to Toronto. Declan had settled into the greenhouse, and the other employees were fortunate they hadn't been housed on-site from the start.
"How are you feeling physically?" I asked Manon. I knew she was on painkillers—in combination with the booze, she'd soon be numb from head to toe. Her drunken mishaps were always memorable. Over the years, there had been many. While we were in the thick of things, I couldn't find the humor in them. But in retrospect…
"I've been better, but I'm okay. Tell me, how are you handling the fact that that jerk… well, you know." She obviously didn't feel like saying it again.
I exhaled loudly. "I'd love to go to the hospital and give him a piece of my mind. I have no idea what got into him, but… damn, I'm at a loss for words."
Actually, I tried to push it as far from my mind as possible. There were more pressing matters. Gray's mood, for instance, still caused me unease. I had never seen him like this before. The dark cloud looming over his head was usually over mine, and I wasn't entirely sure how to handle him.
Did he want to be alone? Did he need me more than ever? Should I take over some of the tasks he couldn't handle himself? We hadn't talked about it, but I knew we needed to soon.
"You don't have to," Manon replied, her words slightly slurred now compared to five minutes earlier. "He can rot in jail after that fierce cop gets through with him."
It's not like she could decide whether he would go to prison. At the moment, he was in the intensive care unit of a hospital and needed special care. It wasn't even certain whether he would recover from his arson attempt without lasting damage.
I'm not usually a spiteful person, but I hoped he would feel the consequences painfully. And not just for a few days.
Manon released me from her half embrace, scooped up some fries from the plate, and stuffed them into her mouth like she was starving. Then she nodded in Gray's direction. "Have you guys talked yet?"
"Only briefly. I guess Gray also needs to come to terms with what happened."
"But he doesn't hold it against you?"
"No. I think he's more worried. You got hurt. Wilder was suspended. The guests who had to cut their vacation short. And then the operations will completely halt for some time."
"He really poured a lot into that bed-and-breakfast, didn't he?"
"Ten years of his life." Some people switch jobs four times in that amount of time.
"We should support him somehow… so he can bounce back better than before when he reopens." She made a thoughtful noise.
"Why don't you focus on recovering? I don't want to have to pick you up in Toronto next week because I need to nurse you back to health."
Manon waved it off. "We'll just set up a social media page for Wildwood. You upload videos and report on what happened and the progress. And when the grand reopening comes, we'll throw a huge bash, inviting all the guests from the past ten years. Camping in the nearby woods or on the meadowlands by the river… yeah, I think that sounds like a great idea."
It did sound like a fabulous idea. And Manon came up with it on the fly in her tipsy state.
"That's the plan," I assured her, suppressing my grin. "Did you hear what I said about your health? You really scared me."
"The thing with Declan is much scarier." Across the room, she cast a skeptical glance at the young man.
"We'll take care of him. That danger won't happen again." Right now, Gray had other concerns, so he had postponed the conversation with Declan until the right moment came.
And according to Wilder, the doctors at the hospital had already had a very stern talk with him.
"Good. He's really nice. It would be a shame if he shot himself in the foot. He kind of reminds me of my brother."
"Your brother is older than you."
"So what?"
"And a real daredevil."
"He was once eighteen and a nice guy too."
