“Thank God! I was sure you’d gotten us lost,” Laurence declared as the car crept around a final bend in what she was certain was nothing more than a fire road.
Sitting behind the wheel, Ashley responded, still glum, “I told you it was out of the way when you invited yourself. It was supposed to be a weekend—”
“Nope!” Laurence’s voice was tinkling laughter, “Not talking about him! He’s done and we’re all better for it!” She risked a light, comforting, touch on Ashley’s shoulder. “C’mon, what kind of bestie would I be if I let you lose your deposit? Look at it!”
Nearly three hours north of Montréal, the last half hour on increasingly narrow roads, the women were deep in Val des Lumières. The breathtaking beauty couldn’t quite overcome Laurence’s anxiety over the isolation. No cell coverage; just them and the bears. How did he ever convince Ash to book this place? she wondered. Laurence loved Ashley dearly, but she couldn’t go five minutes without checking her planner or her calendar. Even just the two of them were on Laurence’s couch, giggling at bad rom-coms.
The sight of the cabin, however, blew Laurence’s concerns away like autumn leaves. It was laughable to call it a cabin, “chalet” wasn’t even adequate. It was magnificent.
“Printing directions was a good idea?” Ashley’s tone was dry, slightly sharp.
Laurence knew her too well to be upset, “I would’ve got us lost.”
Apologies for the firewood. Dry wood after dinner. Rémi The note read. Indeed, the only wood they had for the fireplace was soaked, the woodshed’s roof had failed, but Laurence wasn’t going to let that sour the mood.
“Come on! It’s fine, here, sit, I’ll make dinner.” She practically shoved Ashley toward the overstuffed sofa, large enough for five, and poured them each a second glass of wine.
“Okay.” Ashley had been miserly with her words since unpacking the car. Laurence knew Ashley’s thoughts were and she was determined to rescue her friend from them. They were going to have fun, is was her sacred duty!
The old Ashley, Laurence’s friend so long only their parents remembered their first meeting, began to reappear by degrees. While Laurence began the pasta and made a garlic, cream sauce and related anecdote after anecdote about the café regulars, Ashley gazed out the windows, as darkness swallowed wilderness, sipping her wine with the occasional ‘mmm’. As Laurence prepared a salad that was mostly cucumbers, feta and croutons and shared a story of the café owner’s cat, Claudette, stealing lox from an inattentive patron, Ashley laughed softly. By the time Laurence set the table Ashley was laughing along, recounting the chaos in the undergrad lounge when a pigeon got inside the previous weekend.
Laurence beamed; her dearest friend had returned, if only for the moment, from sadness over a man who never deserved her. The moment was perfect and she wanted it to last forever.
The sky was indigo as they sat down to dinner when a loud knock on the door gave both women a start. While the cabin had been filled with cheerful banter and giggles, they had gotten used to the early autumn forest outside. A beat then Laurence giggled, “Rémi?” The look of relief on Ashley’s face reassured her. Laurence jumped up, “Let me!”
Laurence padded to the door in sock feet and flung it wide, exuding more confidence than she felt. On the step stood a tall man with a thick, neatly trimmed beard, a red-and-black checked jacket and an armload of split logs. He smiled amiably. “Good evening. I am Rémi, the owner?” His English had that perfect Northern Québec roundness to the words. Her cheeks flushed and she nodded, aware of Ashley’s presence behind her.
“I am here with the wood,” Rémi continued, unnecessarily. “I will put it by the fireplace, if you like?”
Both women, stepping back as one, responded eagerly, “Please!”
Rémi filled the woodbox with practised efficiency, then placed the remainder of his load in the firebox, positioning them easy confidence. “Shall I light?” he asked and again both women confirmed as one. Ashley’s fingers had found Laurence’s hand as he worked, giving it an excited squeeze.
Warmth filled the room from the floor up as Rémi turned to the friends, “There. You are set for the weekend?”
“I made too much food!” Laurence blurted and Ashley followed as if rehearsed, “Want to join us?”
Rémi looked around, at the table, the kitchen, the two friends. “I am not …”
“Oh, please stay?” Laurence offered her most welcoming smile.
“You are certain?”
“You bet!” Ashley announced, slipping from behind Laurence and running to the kitchen on bare feet. “Sit! I’ll bring your plate and glass!”
They ate slowly, chatted long, and laughed often. Rémi apologised for the woodshed, shared a story about repairing his dock at the nearby lake, and asked about their lives in Montréal. It was friendly, easy and before long they moved to the couch. Ashley sat in the middle, Laurence tucked in next to her, her knee pressed gently Ashley’s thigh, while Rémi sat opposite.
The fire crackled. Evening became night.
The conversation continued, quieter, growing more intimate and Laurence’s hand found Ashley’s again.
“This is okay?” Rémi murmured, and Ashley realised he’d leaned just a bit closer. The courtesy of it flooded her with warmth.
“It’s okay.”
Their kiss was gentle and uncomplicated and Ashley felt lightheaded at the rightness. Laurence’s breath caught beside her. When they parted, Ashley turned to her best friend. This time Ashley asked, without words. Laurence’s wide-eyed yes was a signal fire.
The women kissed softly, then deeper. Ashley made a sound she didn’t try to hide. Laurence’s palm found the small of her back. Rémi’s hand rested on Ashley’s knee, patient.
“I didn’t know if…” Laurence began, nervously.
“I did,” Ashley said. The simplest truth she’d told herself, possibly, in her life.
Clothes loosened. Sweaters over heads. Buttons opening. The room filled with heat and breath. Rémi kissed Ashley’s throat, to her jaw, to her ear. Laurence’s mouth found Ashley’s collarbone, then lower, kissing the curve of one breast, tongue circling a nipple until Ashley whimpered.
“Good?”
“So good.”
“Like this?”
“Don’t stop.”
Laurence slid to the rug, eyes flicking up for permission. Ashley nodded, hips tilting. Laurence’s mouth was cautious, then confident, her tongue broad and slow, then focused. Rémi kissed Ashley, one hand supporting her breasts while the other sought lower. He stroked the back of Laurence’s head as she slid her tongue fully inside her friend and Ashley gasped into Rémi’s mouth. Laurence moaned in response, it thrummed to Ashley’s core.
“Don’t stop,” Ashley groaned, and Laurence didn’t. She worked in slow circles, then firm flicks, a rhythm that made Ashley’s breath stutter and catch. Rémi watched her face and played with her breasts, attending her nipples as Laurence attended her clit. Ashley came hard, thighs clenching, a broken yes spilling out of her.
They laughed softly at the force of it, kissing her through the aftershocks. Laurence climbed back up, cheeks flushed, mouth glistening. Ashley pulled her in and kissed her deep, tasting herself, heart pounding. Rémi had moved aside as the friends, now lovers, kissed. He knelt on the floor before Ashley’s hips and looked to both. “All right if I…?”
Laurence looked at Ashley, her meaning clear. “Please,” said Ashley as Laurent held Ashley’s hand, staring deep into her best friend’s eyes.
Rémi rolled on a condom but as he did both women seemed to come to a wordless agreement and by the time he was ready they were both pushing him gently onto his back on the couch. Ashley straddled him. Laurence wrapped her fingers around his shaft, guiding him in to her dearest friend. He lay back, gazing adoringly up at Ashley and letting her set the pace. Laurent moved behind and with one hand cupped Ashley’s breast, the other found her clit. Slick and hard and so very sensitive, Laurent stroked her as Ashley rode Rémi, the three of them a symphony of pleasure, Ashley their perfectly instrument.
Ashley rocked, chasing Laurent, chasing Rémi, breath ragged. Laurence kissed the hinge of Ashley’s jaw and whispered, “Look at me.” Ashley turned her head and the look there—tender, hungry, astonished—nearly pushed Laurence to her own peak. The warm, wet sounds of lovemaking filled the cabin. Gasps and sighs and moans and murmured words meant for no one at all. When Ashley climaxed again, it was with Rémi; her cries of joy swallowed by Laurent.
They spilled onto the floor, joyful and ruined. Rémi eased out and tied off the condom. Laurence pressed a glass of water to Ashley’s lips. The fire snapped, sparks danced up. On the rug they caught their breath, a tangle of sweaty, sated bodies.
Morning came languid, luxurious. Coffee, woodsmoke, sore legs, soft smiles. Ashley didn’t open her planner. She didn’t reach for her phone. The three enjoyed one another’s quiet company in the crisp morning light.
“I must to home,” Rémi said, after the breakfast dishes were done and put away. “I will return tonight? To see how it goes? If you like?” Offer? Request?
Ashley met Laurence’s eyes. The shy, bright yes there again. “Mmm,” Ashley said. “We’d like that.”
Laurence squeezed her hand. “We really would.”
Later, when Rémi’s knock sounded again, Ashley went to the door in nothing but socks and a sweater. Opening it felt less like a decision and more like continuing a thing already begun. The weekend bent into a shape that made sense: warmth, curiosity. A new chapter.