Snowbound
Fiona gestured for the second time, she said, “What?”
“Can I talk to you for a minute?”
She was aware of John Fallon turning from the fire
and watching them. No surprise—she was always
aware of him when he was in the room.
Amy rolled her eyes and stood. When Fiona quietly
repeated the question yet again, Amy curled her lip.
“Why can’t she use tampons like everyone else?”
“Is something wrong?” Hopper asked.
Amy looked at something—or someone—behind
Fiona, then said deliberately, pitching her voice so
everyone could hear, “Willow’s having her period. And
she doesn’t like the tampons the rest of us use. Like it’s
any of your business.”
They all heard a gasp.
Fiona turned to see Willow halfway down the stairs,
her face blanched. For a long, suspended moment, she
and Amy stared at each other. Then Willow’s face
crumpled and she turned and fled.
Keeping her voice level with an effort, Fiona said,
“That was mean. I thought better of you, Amy.”
“What?” she snapped, tossed her head. “Like boys
don’t know we menstruate?”
Everyone was listening, even Troy, who took off his
headphones.
“Willow is younger than you, and shy. You did that
deliberately.” Fiona shook her head and went to John.
“Nasty little thing, isn’t she?” he murmured.
Fiona was mad enough to say, “I’m beginning to
think so. Is there any chance you have any more
supplies? Uh, besides tampons?”
“I don’t know. I’ll look.” He headed for the kitchen.
Out of the corner of her eye, Fiona was grateful to
see Erin quietly heading up the stairs.
With a sniff, Amy plopped down again at the small
table where she’d been playing poker with the others.
“That was cold,” Troy said loudly.
She spun in her chair and narrowed her eyes to slits.
“What do you know?”
“I know you like being the center of attention.” He
sounded thoughtful, as if just realizing. “You get pissed
whenever anyone else is.”
“I do not!”
“It was mean,” Dieter said. “Jeez, Amy.”
She spun back to face him. “Because I’m not mealy-
mouthed? Why’s it a big deal?”
He shrugged. “It’s not, except it is to Willow. I saw
you looking at her when you said that. Like, you
wouldn’t have if she hadn’t been there to overhear.”
Furious spots of color had appeared on her cheeks.
“You’re the one who’s being mean!”
He just shrugged.
Amy looked at Hopper. He bowed his head.
“Not cool,” Kelli said.
Amy burst into tears, scrambled up so fast her chair
fell over with a crash and raced for the stairs. Everyone
let her go.
Of course, it was Fiona’s job to go after her. Eventually. Once she’d taken care of Willow’s problem.
So much for the peaceful tableau. With a sigh, Fiona
followed John to the kitchen, passing an unsuspecting
Tabitha who had a can of pop in her hand, said, “Any
luck?” and at Fiona’s shake of the head went back to
join the others.
John came out of the storeroom with a couple of
pink-wrapped items. “These?” he asked, holding them
up.
“Oh, bless you!” Fiona said fervently. “My next
option was to suggest rags, and I know that wouldn’t
go over well.”
“Rags?”
“Never mind.” She took the two wrapped pads. “Is
this all you could find?”
“No, there’s a bunch of them. Different colors and, uh,
sizes.” His shoulders moved. “Ones left behind. I save
anything like that, if I think it might come in handy.”
“John Fallon, you are the best innkeeper in the entire
world.” Before she could think twice about it, she stood
on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek, then twirled
away before she could see how he reacted. Before she
could react, to the scratchy texture of his cheek, the
smell of the wood he’d been handling, his nearness. “I’ll
take these to her,” she said, backing away.
“I’ll collect as many as I can find.” If there was a