I Can Make This Promise

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I Can Make This Promise Page 12

by Christine Day


  I hesitate. “I just have one question.”

  “What’s that, sweetie?”

  “Am I—about to meet them?” I ask. “Are Theo and Edith still here?”

  “Oh, Edie. If they were, you would’ve grown up with them.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat and nod several times, to show that I understand. To prove that I’m ready. When my parents agreed to open up with the truth, I kind of figured this would be it. That their stories would come to an end.

  Where am I from?

  After all this time, I’m finally going to learn the truth.

  I just hope my heart won’t shatter when I do.

  Dad drives us to the address. The cabin is small and made of cedar planks. Built right on the waterfront, just as my dad described it.

  There’s a truck parked out front. I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here, and I shoot my parents questioning looks. “Are you sure we’re in the right place?”

  Mom smiles. “Of course. Don’t you recognize that truck?”

  I glance at it again. I guess it does look vaguely familiar, but I’m not sure where I’ve seen it before.

  I’m controlling my breathing and bracing myself for anything as we walk up the porch, to the front door. It must be the same screen door my parents looked through, because the metal frame looks old, and the screen is gauzy and shadowy.

  Dad pushes the screen door open. Mom calls out, “We’re here!”

  And the most unexpected person of all comes flying toward me, her arms flailing as she shrieks, “SURPRISE!”

  Serenity crashes into me with a bone-crushing hug.

  I’m so amazed, I scream in her ear as I squeeze her back.

  She winces and laughs and keeps embracing me. This is one of the best hugs of my entire life.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Your dad called my dad this morning, when we finally got service back. He said something about a family emergency? Then your uncle Phil came and picked me up, and here we are.”

  I can’t believe this. I pull back to look her in the eyes. I glimpse Uncle Phil behind her, and he gives me a nod and a little wave. Serenity grips my shoulders, returning my attention to her.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t really respond to your texts today,” she says sheepishly. “I lied, I did have service at that point. But I was supposed to surprise you, so I couldn’t really say that, you know?”

  “It’s okay,” I tell her. “I’m just so happy to see you.” I give her another hug and turn my head to meet my mother’s gaze. “You’re okay with her being here?”

  Mom shrugs. “I meant it when I said no more secrets. Besides, your uncle Phil called me after breakfast this morning and convinced me it would be a good idea to bring her. To give you a happy surprise.”

  “That’s right,” Uncle Phil says. “We needed to lighten the mood around here. And during the ferry ride, I got to tell Serenity all about how to care for a pet duck. Since I’m the expert in that field.”

  Serenity nods. “It’s true. I want one.”

  “I also brought my portable generator over and showed her how to set that up. So we have power in the house now; you’re welcome. And, uh, kiddo.” Uncle Phil gestures at himself. “Just wondering, where’s my hug?”

  I giggle and run across the room and launch myself into his open arms.

  While we’re hugging, a thought crosses my mind. “Uncle Phil,” I say. “Did you try to convince Mom to have you bring Amelia, too?”

  Uncle Phil releases me. Scratches the back of his neck. “I considered it,” he tells me. “But once I picked Serenity up, and she told me about some recent drama—I’m glad I only recommended one of your best friends.”

  I hold his gaze and absorb his words while Mom gasps softly behind me.

  “What drama?” she asks. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes,” I whisper. “I just don’t—I’m not sure if Amelia and I are friends anymore. If we’ll ever be friends again.”

  Uncle Phil places a protective hand on my shoulder. Mom swallows, her gaze dropping to her hands.

  Dad’s voice is solemn. “I’m sorry to hear that, sweetie.”

  Serenity steps forward. “I’m sorry, too. But I’m not surprised. Amelia hasn’t been a good friend to either of us for a long time now. I only still hung out with her because you wanted to.”

  “I always thought it would be the three of us,” I tell her. “Together forever.”

  “I used to believe that, too. But friendships only work if everyone remains kind to each other. Amelia used to be one of the nicest people I knew.” Her shoulders deflate. She shakes her head sadly. “Not anymore.”

  “Well. As sad as it is, I’m glad I can still count on you.”

  I turn to my parents, curious and ready to change the subject.

  “So,” I say. “This is where you met Theo.”

  Mom nods. “Yes. This room hasn’t changed much.”

  I look around, taking in the sofas stacked with wilted cushions, the creaky hardwood floors, the dust particles swirling in the sunlight. A canoe paddle is mounted on the wall above the window. Albums line a shelf above an old record player. An ancient television set stands in the corner of the room. The tiny box has silver antenna rods, and its curved screen is framed by a wood-grain border, with two chrome dials and a teeny-tiny built-in speaker.

  It occurs to me that this is probably where Edith Graham watched TV and movies. This might be how she saw Sacheen Littlefeather’s speech and decided to take a chance on her own dreams.

  “Is this—?”

  She nods, confirming my suspicions. “Yes. They both grew up here, and this was her television set. When Edith got her first job, Theo said she went out and spent her entire first paycheck on this thing.” Mom gives a breathy laugh. Crosses the room. “He said she was always impulsive like that, and she always loved movies. She grew up watching everything in black and white, because their mother refused to splurge on a color TV.”

  She presses the power button, and the television hums to life in a blur of static. The screen turns solid blue, while the word “PLAY” flashes in the top left corner, in pixelated white letters. Mom clicks the button again, and it goes back to black with a gentle zapping sound.

  “I can’t imagine watching full movies on that,” I murmur.

  Mom gives a shrug. “Times have changed. Now,” she says, “are you ready to hear the rest of the story?”

  I nod and take a seat on the sofa. Serenity and Uncle Phil settle in on either side of me. Mom and Dad go to the love seat directly across from us.

  And she draws her breath to begin.

  30.

  What Mom Tells Me

  When we came inside this cabin for the first time, Theo sat us down in the living room, just like this. We chatted for hours, sharing stories, getting to know each other. He had so many questions about where I’d been and what I’d gone through since the adoption. I was open and honest, because there was something about him that made me feel safe. We had this immediate connection, and he was my uncle, my family. I knew I could trust him.

  He taught me our family’s history. He said that his parents—my grandparents—were married in 1945. My grandfather served in the military, as an infantryman in the US Army. He died in combat in the Korean War in 1952. Theo’s memories of his father were few and vague, because he was born in 1948, and his father enlisted in 1951. Edith was born on February 28, 1952; she never met her father at all.

  To support the household, my grandmother worked as a maid at a country club in Kingston. She also took on various domestic service jobs from some of the club’s members. She worked long hours and didn’t make much money, but she made sure her children had food on the table every night.

  When Theo was a teenager, he got a job at the local five-and-dime store. He worked in that same store his entire life, and he always lived in this same house. Throughout his life, he was a passionate activist, and he participated in some major demons
trations for Native rights. He never married or had children of his own, but he loved his family more than anything. When his mother became ill in the mid-1970s and had to stop working, he took good care of her. And he continued to look after her until she passed in 1985.

  As I’m sure you’ve learned, Edith—my mother—worked at the ferry docks, before shocking her family with her grand plan to move to Los Angeles. She wanted to become a professional actress.

  Theo said that he and his mother didn’t disapprove of her plans, but . . . they were afraid for her. Their life here in Suquamish might not have been perfect, but it was consistent. They knew what to expect from this place. They knew how to survive in this place. The same couldn’t be said for LA. And Edith was young and idealistic, maybe a little naive. They loved her very much and didn’t want to see her get crushed.

  But of course, they still let her go. She was determined, and neither of them could deny her anything.

  Ultimately, her acting career didn’t work out. She came home in the winter of 1977, a few weeks before her twenty-fifth birthday. She didn’t return to work at the ferry docks, because she wanted to be a stay-at-home mother. My grandmother and Uncle Theo agreed to provide for her and help her raise me.

  Edith planned to give birth here, with the assistance of a midwife. If that had happened, it’s very possible I never would’ve been taken to an orphanage.

  Every week or two, Theo traveled to Seattle to complete various errands. Remember, this was in the era before smartphones and the internet. You couldn’t order stuff online, couldn’t pay bills online. There are certain chores adults need to do, and back then, they needed to do those things in person. And at that point, the town of Indianola didn’t have access to a lot of that stuff. Which is why Theo needed to travel to the mainland.

  It was August, and Edith was far along in her pregnancy. Most days, she was extremely uncomfortable, and spent her time knitting baby clothes down by the waterfront. She’d made all kinds of onesies and booties and hats. She hoped the clothes would fit me and keep me warm in the coming fall and winter.

  When Theo told her he was going to Seattle, she perked up and set aside her knitting needles. She said, “Can I come with you this time?” He eyed her belly and said, “I’m not sure if that’s a great idea.” She said, “I really feel much better today. And I want to go to Pike Place Market. I’d love to have some fresh flowers in the house, and I’m starting to run low on yarn. Take me with you on your errands. Please, Theo.”

  Naturally, he took her. And he would regret it for the rest of his life.

  The day started out fine. They took the ferry to Seattle. They went to Pike Place Market. Edith picked out a bouquet of wildflowers. She chose a variety of yarns in colors that reminded her of autumn leaves: warm reds and blazing oranges and golden yellows.

  They took their time and went to grab some lunch. Theo brought her over to a picnic table, so she could sit and relax while he ordered their food. Edith was in high spirits, and still insisted she felt fine, but the physical exertion was starting to wear on her.

  When Theo brought their food back to the table, the situation had changed dramatically. She was seated with her back turned to the table, because her belly stood out too far for her to face it. And she was no longer smiling, no longer cheery. Both of her hands were clutched to her lower abdomen, and her teeth were gritted in pain.

  Theo remembered telling her, “We need to get you back on the ferry. We need to leave right now.” She was clearly in labor, and they had to bring her back to the midwife, to the safety of their own home.

  “Just give me a minute,” she said. “Give me a minute, and I’ll catch my breath.”

  Their lunch sat untouched on the table. The steaming food grew cold. A few bold crows flocked near, cawing at their backs.

  Finally, Edith rose shakily to her feet. Theo held her hand as they moved away from the table. But she stopped and exclaimed, “The yarns! Don’t forget the yarns.” He grabbed the shopping bag, but left the wildflowers and the food containers behind.

  People stared as they hobbled along. Theo’s car was parked under the viaduct. They had to make it back to his car and drive a short distance down the pier to secure a spot on the ferry for Bainbridge Island. Then they’d have to drive the ten miles from that port to their house in Indianola.

  As they backtracked through Pike Place Market, Edith was hit by another wave of contractions. She cried out and her knees buckled. She nearly crumpled to the ground, but Theo held her up. He said, “We need to keep going, little sister. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me, but we can’t stay here.”

  A shopkeeper came forward and suggested that they go to the hospital. He offered to call an ambulance.

  Theo told him, “We appreciate your concern, but we’re almost home. Thank you.”

  Edith’s breathing was shallow and pained, but she wordlessly nudged her brother forward. They tried to continue on their way.

  The shopkeeper called out, “Are you sure you don’t want me to call an ambulance?”

  Theo replied, “We’re okay.”

  Together, they walked as quickly as they could. They made it to the street where his car was parked. There were only a few blocks left to go when they heard the low wail of sirens.

  The shopkeeper had called an ambulance. And it was about to find them.

  When Theo got to this part of the story, he told me he was on the verge of howling. That’s the exact word he used, howl. He said he wanted to cry and scream and sob all at once.

  Edith must’ve known, because she placed a gentle hand on his cheek. She told him, “It’s okay, Theo. Breathe. Everything will be okay.”

  Theo didn’t understand how she could believe in luck. But if she could find the strength to get help in that moment, to put herself in such a vulnerable position—once again, he couldn’t deny her. All he could do was stand by and support her.

  So they stopped. They waited for the ambulance. When it turned the corner, he waved them down. Sure enough, the paramedics confirmed they’d received a call from someone at Pike Place, who’d witnessed “a pregnant Indian woman in need of immediate assistance.”

  They admitted her to the hospital. And she endured eight hours of labor before I came.

  Theo said that I made them both believe in love at first sight.

  He said they both cried when they saw me cradled in the doctor’s arms. The umbilical cord hadn’t been cut yet. My eyes were squeezed shut and my hands were balled into fists. Theo claimed that I looked like a tiny boxer. Like I entered this world already braced for a fight.

  Edith was still weak and gasping from the labor. But her eyes shone with pride and she said, “My baby. My baby. Look at you. I love you already.”

  Then the doctor snipped the umbilical cord. He handed me off to a nurse, who darted out of the room without a backward glance.

  And that was it.

  31.

  What Happened Next

  Edith tried to sit up in the hospital bed. She asked, “Where are you taking her?”

  The doctor waved her concerns off. “We just have a few routine tests to run. To make sure the infant is in a stable condition.”

  “Can’t I hold her first?”

  “It should only be a moment, ma’am.”

  The doctor excused himself from the room, and Theo and Edith waited to see what would happen in tense, emotional silence.

  It wasn’t a moment. It was an hour.

  A knock sounded at the door, and a man walked in. He was dressed in a black suit, with a binder tucked under his arm.

  He introduced himself as a social worker.

  He had some questions to ask about their living situation.

  He opened his binder; it contained multiple documents and a legal pad.

  The first thing he wanted to verify was Edith’s marital status. He noted the use of her maiden name when she was admitted to the hospital, and the absence of any rings on her fingers.

&nbs
p; Edith held her head high. “It’s true. I’m an unmarried woman.”

  He scribbled a note into his legal pad.

  The next thing he wanted to verify was Theo’s identity. He asked if he was, in fact, the same Theodore Graham who had been arrested during the protests at Fort Lawton.

  Theo said nothing.

  The man tapped his pen against the legal pad, waiting.

  Then he whisked a court document out of his folder and read it aloud. He recited charges placed against Theo at the time of his arrest, along with the physical descriptions and information available about him.

  Feeling pressured, Theo admitted the truth. “Yes. I’m the same Theodore Graham.”

  The man pursed his lips and scribbled another note.

  Next, he asked how many people lived in their house.

  Edith answered, “Three adults.”

  Who was the third adult?

  “Our mother.”

  The questions continued. The social worker wanted to know how old their mother was. He wanted to know what their combined family income was. He wanted to know who completed what chores around the house. He wanted to know who the baby’s father was. When Edith told him about that, he wanted to know why she was in California. When she explained the dreams and goals she’d worked toward as a younger woman, he listened with no reaction whatsoever.

  Throughout the interrogation, Theo and Edith tried to remain strong and sweet and open. They tried to make a good impression. Edith smiled frequently, even though her lips quivered.

  Finally, the social worker clicked his pen and looked up. His expression was perfectly blank.

  “I believe that’s everything I need to know,” he said. “Thank you for your time.”

  He closed the binder and rose from the chair. Theo and Edith exchanged looks of panic.

  Before he reached the door, she cried out, “Please. Please, can I see my child now?”

  He paused with his hand on the doorknob. “I’m not sure that will be possible, Miss Graham.”

 

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