I pulled the truck into the small parking lot, glad to see the Tahoe was there. Even if I was still groggy from yesterday at the school, I couldn’t stay cooped up in my house another minute. Exhaustion was something I was used to, and I ignored the heaviness of it in my muscles as I climbed out of the truck. The last thing I needed to do today was dwell a moment longer on the full life I felt through an old woman’s memory, and compare it to the sad state of my own. A nice squabble with Kat would be a welcome distraction.
As I walked to the front of the building, I eyed the school across the street, noting that some of the teens were out in the gated yard, eating their lunch. I didn’t think about the youth in Whitehorse all that much, other than there were a lot of them—more than there were adults. And I definitely didn’t think about how life was for them now, after everything that had happened. What had they been through? How horrible had it been for some of them? I could assume and imagine a lot. Were they acclimating now? I had no idea, and as I thought about the miscreant kids trolling the woods, I wondered if these young survivors realized how lucky they were to have a place like this.
When I pulled the door open, Kat peered up from a mess of maps and folders opened on her desk, but she only spared me a quick glance before she looked back down at the binder in front of her. “Hey, boss.” She flipped through the pages, scanning them with her index finger. However unproductive my morning had been, stewing in a mental haze at home, it looked like she’d been busy at least.
“Kat,” I answered, and the cool afternoon air rushed in as the door shut behind me. “We should probably get that list finished up so we can—”
“I did, and I reached out to Jamal, Kev, and Smitty—they’re all on board to help out with Barricade One. They said to name the day and place, and they’ll be there.”
“Oh.” I shrugged my jacket off and hung it on the coat rack. “I’ll go finish up the rest of the sketch then, see what supplies we still need—”
“I put something rough on your desk to look at,” she said distractedly. “You’ll probably want to redo it, but you can decide when you see it.”
Kat didn’t fuck around when it came to her job, but I was surprised, or maybe a little let down, that she’d done so much without me.
“Is there anything you haven’t done?” I asked tersely. “Or are you taking the chief job now too?”
Kat glanced up at me again, and I felt my cheeks redden. “That was an asshole thing to say. Sorry.”
Her eyes lingered on mine a few seconds longer, then she looked away.
I took a step closer to her desk. I didn’t know what my problem was, only that she was the last person I wanted to piss off right now, especially after our interaction yesterday. “Thank you for getting all of that done for me.”
“Sure.” It was a curt, rushed response. She flashed me a forced, forgiving smile.
Rubbing my temple, I turned for the hall. “You know where to find me, if you need me.”
“Sure thing.” Kat rose from her seat, and when I heard the jingle of keys, I looked back. She pushed her long sleeves up to her elbows, the Tahoe keys in her hand.
“Where are you off to now?”
Kat closed the inventory binder on her desk and slid it into the row with the other binders and references she maintained. “I’m going to grab Jonathan and take him out to look at Puck. I left the list of materials I think we’ll need on your desk with the sketch. We can finalize them tomorrow. Or whatever you think is best.” She flashed me another forced smile. “Call me on the radio if you need me.” She brushed past me and opened the front door.
“Wait, you’re not coming back today?”
Kat looked back at me. “It depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether or not Nathan and I get finished digging Mrs. Filmore’s grave for tomorrow’s service.”
She said it so matter-of-factly, like helping Nathan at the hospital was a normal thing for her to do, I almost felt like I was being dense for a minute.
“If not, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Kat turned and disappeared out the door like she couldn’t get away fast enough.
It didn’t take a genius to grasp how upset she was with me. I’d clearly hurt her feelings by pushing her away yesterday, and I felt an unexpected rush of panic as I realized that she was now shutting me out, and there was no one but myself to blame.