Sweetheart Braves

by Pamela Sanderson

  "Casino," Granny puffed, not hiding her disapproval.

  Elizabeth said, "Don't start. It's a great job. It's economic development for the Tribe. I get to be on the rez and take care of you."

  Granny made another sound but didn't comment further.

  "I start next week," Elizabeth said.

  "When did you graduate?"

  "Last month," Elizabeth said. "Took me an extra year to get through school. I had—" She paused, searching for words.

  "She quit two times," Granny said, holding up two fingers.

  "There were no Ind'ns there. A couple of overachievers formed a club but I had nothing in common with them." Elizabeth sat back in her seat and stared out the window.

  He skipped sharing his story, the one where he also struggled with school, because that tale was tough to tell without mentioning the sobriety part, which would be the moment he became 1000 times less attractive to her. Someone like Elizabeth would not be interested in the living wreck that he was at the moment.

  "How about you, Granny? How do you stay out of trouble?" He glanced over to see her give him a sly grin.

  "I like the casino," she said.

  "She always has visitors, family and friends or researchers who want an interview or to take her picture," Elizabeth said. "Leo, my great-grandpa, died a couple of years ago, but until then she was still cooking giant meals to feed anyone who stopped by. Washing dishes is one of my strongest memories of being at her house."

  "Who does it now?"

  "Not me. I hate cooking. No more giant meals," Elizabeth said. "Do you like cooking?"

  Tommy laughed. "I collect cookbooks, but I never cook. Seems like a stupid thing to do when you're by yourself."

  Elizabeth didn't respond to that. When he arrived at Linda's, Elizabeth asked, "You coming in?"

  He wanted to. He wanted nothing more than to breathe the same air that Elizabeth was breathing, but he had to check on Angie before he took them to the mixer.

  "Nah. I have an errand to take care of," he said, trying to sound like a person who didn't have a giant problem waiting for him in his apartment. "I'll be back to pick you up in a couple of hours."

  7

  The twinge of regret grew stronger the closer they got to the event. Linda winced every time she replayed the scene, her bellowing at Arnie when he was trying to help and the look of surprise on his face when he left.

  "Bets on whether Tommy shows?" Rayanne asked.

  "He's bringing Aunt Dotty and Lizzie," Linda reminded her. She pointed out the high-rise where the mixer was taking place.

  "I mean, will he come inside and talk to people?" Rayanne said.

  "He said he wanted to," Ester said.

  "He was making cow eyes at Linda's cousin," Rayanne said. "Wager? If he shows up, he will miraculously have clothing other than sweatpants."

  Ester giggled. "I'm torn. You're probably right but he needs someone to stick up for him."

  Linda said, "I always talk about looking professional. If he shows up in decent clothes maybe he heard me."

  "Sure, sounds like Tommy," Rayanne said.

  In their short history together, he'd never been particularly expressive, but these last few months he'd grown more out of it, always quick with an excuse and an apology.

  "Does he talk to you guys? He's so secretive and...miserable, like every minute he's braced for terrible news. I never know what to think about him." Linda hadn't noticed any cow eyes but then having her family drop-in unexpectantly had created a whole new category of worries for her about things like clean sheets and her dismal pantry with nothing but soup and macaroni dinner.

  "He tells me nothing, good or bad," Rayanne said.

  Ester looked away and shrugged. "Does Arnie come to these things?"

  "Who cares?" Linda said, too quickly. They arrived at the giant glass doors that led to the lobby. "What I meant was, I'm tired of him lurking over my shoulder."

  "That's a weird thing to say," Rayanne said.

  "I wish you guys would be friends again," Ester said.

  "We can work together. We don't have to be friends." It hurt her heart to say those words out loud.

  "What if he quits?" Ester said.

  "No one is quitting," Linda said. "Especially not now. Remember: networking event. Talk to someone besides each other. I'll introduce you."

  "I like networking events," Rayanne said.

  "She's nuts, but she prepared me with the equivalent of three things," Ester said. "All of them end up with me talking about supporting urban Indians."

  "Good," Linda said, pushing the heavy door open. "See if you can pass any of that to Tommy."

  The lobby had a polished marble floor and imposing slabs of abstract art hanging on the walls. The mixer was underway. Linda scanned the group. No sign of Arnie. In case he showed up, she would try Ester's trick and be ready with three things: Nice day, nice tie, and, how did things get so blucked up between us? Maybe not. Two things would work.

  They went to the temporary bar where Audra passed out name tags.

  "Greetings, fellow professionals," she said, giving them all a hug. "Glad to see you. No Tommy?"

  "My relatives came to town this afternoon," Linda said. "He's bringing them over."

  "He's smitten," Rayanne said.

  "Good for him," Audra said, handing over a marker. "Your name and tribal affiliation. You and Arnie strategize on your next move?"

  "No," Linda said. "The ladies and I think we should look at the other sites and see what they offer. I hope to bring him to our way of thinking."

  "The trick is to make him think it's his idea," Rayanne said.

  "You are going to do well in this business," Audra told her. "The bar's got beer, wine, and a dismal selection of canned soda left from another meeting." She nodded at the people already gathered. "There was a tribal fisheries meeting today, so most of these folks are from that."

  "I see someone I know from college," Rayanne said, dragging Ester with her.

  Audra handed Linda a glass of wine. "I guess Arnie is still seeing the filmmaker."

  Something uncomfortable squeezed behind Linda's ribs. She followed Audra's gaze. Tall tinted windows enclosed the building lobby. From outside, passersby would see their reflections, but from inside they had a clear view of what was going on out there.

  Arnie, looking sharp as ever, stood near the lobby doors with Katie Stone, the woman who had made the film that the center had blown off, his words.

  Katie stood with arms crossed, posture ramrod straight, her face puckered with annoyance. Arnie must be used to seeing that face on the women he knew.

  "I hadn't heard otherwise," Linda said, unable to tear her eyes away. Arnie stood close but didn't touch. Linda recognized the look: pleading, conciliatory. He would be making promises, guessing what she wanted to hear, anything so they could get into the event. Katie's head moved back and forth: no. Whatever was going on, she wasn't letting up.

  "Doesn't look like a pleasant conversation," Audra said, turning away.

  "No," Linda agreed. She took a gulp of wine and hoped she wouldn't have to talk to the woman.

  "Did something happen yesterday?" Audra asked.

  A fresh wave of Arnie annoyance curled her upper lip. "I had a flat and he tried to help me." Her eyes were glued to Arnie. He put a hand on Katie's elbow and tried to steer her to the door. She shook him off, tossed her hands up, and took off with quick strides. Linda felt a tiny pop of relief. She turned her attention back to Audra.

  "That was a problem?" Audra said.

  "He was being all pushy and making fun of the stuff in my car, so I got mad and told him to get lost."

  Audra took a thoughtful sip of her wine. "Maybe you two need couples' counseling."

  "Not funny," Linda said.

  Audra dropped her voice. "Sorry. He's here." She pulled out another name tag. "Good evening, Councilman Jackson."

  Linda had missed it when he came in. Katie wasn't with him. He glanced at Linda
before filling out his badge.

  "Hello," she finally said, trying and failing to muster a breezy tone.

  "Hey." He peeled the back off the sticker and put it on. To Audra, he said, "What's the beer today?"

  "IPA or IPA." Audra flicked the cap off a bottle and handed it to him. "I have a law clerk who is supposed to be handing out drinks. I'd better go find him."

  Linda shot her a pleading look but she slipped away. Arnie's red-rimmed eyes traveled around the room and his jaw worked as if he was still deciding whether to talk to her. Her two things faded on her lips.

  He took a pull off his beer. "Everything work out okay yesterday?"

  "After two hours, some kid from the service showed up. I had to take everything out of the trunk so he could get to the spare," she said.

  Arnie smiled into his beer.

  She'd promised herself she wouldn't apologize, but the words tumbled out. "Sorry about that—"

  "Forget it." His gaze stopped at the lobby doors and the clear view to outside. Recognition flicked across his face; anyone watching would have seen the tiff with Katie.

  Linda tried again. "What I mean is—"

  "I'm serious," he said sharply. "I don't want to talk about this right now. We need to figure out how to do this together. We have the same goal. We'll work it out, but not right now."

  "Sure," Linda said. She spotted Rayanne and Ester watching, but they both turned away when she caught them.

  Arnie said, "After we met yesterday, I made a phone call. There's an informal Council planning meeting on Saturday. They said they would be happy to chat with you." He did his best to smile.

  "You liked that idea?"

  "That's why I arranged for you to meet with them."

  "What are you thinking? A formal presentation, or a short-and-sweet pleading session with a Q&A?" Linda's head spun with possibilities. Arnie's Council participated in lots of regional activities, so she could pitch ideas for collaborative projects that might keep other tribes committed.

  "It's a long trip for short and sweet, don't you think?" Arnie said.

  "I wish we knew what kind of space we're going to have," Linda said. "What about the city's alternatives?"

  "I thought we'd decided on that," he said.

  "Right, and we decided what?"

  A hint of a smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. "We should look."

  "That's what I was thinking," Linda said.

  Mission accomplished.

  She went on. "If there's something decent, we'll ask about leasing. As long as we—"

  Arnie's expression changed. Abruptly, he said, "Send me the info when you get an appointment. I gotta work the room." Then he was gone.

  Next thing she knew, Virgil was there, waving from the door.

  Somewhere in the room, Rayanne and Ester would be nudging each other, their eyes on this greeting, hoping to decode this funny relationship. If they had any insights, she would love to hear them.

  Her friend-but-not-boyfriend, at least not yet, crossed the room, a friendly smile on his face. Virgil was tall and built for endurance athletics. When he wasn't on work travel he was always training to bike across the state or heading out for a trail run. There was an awkward pause while they decided how to greet each other, which ended in an inelegant half-embrace, half-back pat.

  "Looks like you two smoothed everything over," he said, indicating Arnie.

  "More or less," Linda said. "You're back from which trip?"

  The relationship remained at an undefined simmer while they both used the excuse of busy schedules. They'd shared a few dinners but never managed to string something together even over consecutive weekends. Every time they saw each other, it played like a second date. She couldn't put her finger on it but they were never at ease, an odd formality coloring every interaction.

  He offered a brilliant smile. "I went to Denver. Great trip. Next time we go out I want to tell you about it."

  "Sounds intriguing," she said, trying to gauge how she felt. Did she want more? A laid-back guy would probably be a good match for her.

  She spotted Tommy guiding Aunt Dotty to the door. "Come meet my cousin and my Aunt Dotty."

  8

  Elizabeth pulled the heavy door open and waited for Granny and Tommy to go inside. During the time he'd been away, Tommy had ditched the soggy sweats, and he now wore unhemmed gray pants, the edges ragged under his feet, and a pilled black knit shirt, V-neck, her eyes drawn to the triangle of golden skin at his throat, imagining she could see his pulse there. He caught her staring, and she held his gaze until he was the one who looked away.

  Linda rushed over as soon as she spotted them, dragging some man whom she introduced as Virgil without any relationship appellation.

  Elizabeth shook his hand. While he spoke to Granny, she whispered to Tommy, "Is that Linda's boyfriend?"

  "I think they're friends."

  "Does she have a boyfriend?"

  Tommy shrugged indifferently. His face said: Don't know, don't care. She'd have to corner Rayanne or Ester to get the scoop.

  Elizabeth was well acquainted with her own dislike of social events like this, so she didn't miss Tommy tense up and shift his weight from foot to foot like he couldn't get comfortable.

  From across the room, Ester made crazy eyes at Tommy and indicated her clothes, then his, and then did some sort of waving body dance steps that he acknowledged by pointing his chin at her.

  Linda handed Elizabeth a marker and sticker.

  "I have to have a name tag? This is awful," she muttered, printing her name and sticking her badge to her chest.

  "We can leave whenever you want," Tommy said, filling out one for himself.

  Elizabeth eyed Granny, grinning ear-to-ear, no doubt telling one of her stories. She loved a new audience. Linda's not-boyfriend stood next to her, completely engrossed.

  Granny lived for this kind of attention. "We're at Granny's mercy," she told Tommy. "We won't go anywhere until she's ready." She spotted someone pouring a glass of wine. "I see drinks. That'll help. I'll be right back." She talked the guy into letting her take two beers and returned to Tommy's side and shoved one in his hand. She took a long pull. "This is all they had. At least they're cold."

  Tommy held the bottle like he was holding a hand grenade. She was about to ask him if he'd rather have something else when Ester came over and stopped in front of him. "Trade you," she said with a playful gleam in her eye. "Nice outfit, by the way." She took the open beer and shoved a water bottle into his hand before going back to join Rayanne.

  He let out a long exhale. A private joke between them, evidently.

  "Did she walk off with your beer?" Elizabeth said, not sure whether to be annoyed.

  Tommy shrugged. What can you do? "I'm not supposed to drink when I'm operating the Drivemaster."

  "That makes sense, I guess," Elizabeth said. "How mom-like of her."

  "I don't mind," Tommy said. He took a sip of water. "There was a long time where I went without a reliable Ind'n woman in my life, and now I have three. It's like working with your sisters. They love you, but they give you hell all the time."

  "Do you have sisters?"

  "Two. Older. Different Dad. I don't see them."

  "How delightfully rez," Elizabeth said. "Your dad have any kids with a different mom?"

  Tommy held up one finger. "Brother. Also older. Only met him once." Every bit Tommy revealed about himself had a hint of sadness. His eyes kept traveling back to the door as if he was working on an escape plan.

  "Your errand go okay?" she asked.

  "Which errand?"

  "When you dropped me and Granny off you said you had an errand."

  He picked at the label on the water bottle. "It went fine." She expected him to elaborate, but he kept his attention focused on the label.

  "Do you have a girlfriend?" she asked, picturing him running home to tell someone he had to work late. Dropping off something for her to eat. This person asking when he would be home
.

  Tommy chewed that over, laughing to himself like the answer was too complex to address properly. "No. I don't have a girlfriend. You?"

  "I don't have a girlfriend." Her smile widened.

  She held his gaze for one long breath, then another. They were sharing something but she wasn't sure if it was the same thing.

  "Do you want to get out of here?" he said. The words fell out in a jumble. She must have misheard him.

  She followed his eyes to the door, wondering what he had in mind. The suggestion sent a flare of heat through her.

  "Lizzie!" Granny's voice cut across the room.

  "Duty calls," she said with genuine regret.

  He shook his head and smiled: It was a crazy idea.

  She grabbed his sleeve and pulled him with her as she went to see what Granny wanted. She waited for Granny to insist on something to eat or ask her some obscure question, but instead she pulled her next to her and said, "I didn't want you to miss this."

  Linda's friend Audra was a sharply-dressed attorney with excellent taste in shoes—suede pumps in a color some would call dusty rose—if only she had a place to wear shoes like that. Audra explained how one of her clients put together a program to bring a cultural perspective into their tribe's legal system.

  Granny said, "White man court always wants to punish. Our tradition wants to heal with the community. You understand the difference?" Granny looked at her as if they hadn't had a hundred versions of this conversation over the years. Granny was always advocating to use cultural traditions to address problems.

  "You've taught me well," Elizabeth told her.

  Most of Linda's staff had gathered around Granny for this conversation. Everyone had ideas about programs for Indians in the city and what they could do to keep tribal people connected. Rayanne wanted to have a place to serve elders regular hot meals. Linda had so many ideas it was hard to keep up: classes, cultural events, music, art. Even Tommy chimed in with something about basketball and traditional games. Granny was at the center, her favorite spot, a smile on her face and quick to comment when she had something to add and turning to tap Elizabeth's arm like she might miss a detail.