“How’s Dad?” The soup was lukewarm, but the chunks of beef and potato tasted good.
“Grouchy. But awake.” Anna stood, scooping up James’ bowl with hers. “He’s had oatmeal and a bowl of soup. He’s already complaining about being in bed.” She rinsed the bowls in the sink. “I think he’s just bruised.”
“Thank God.” Maria said. But how can we know?
“Yes,” said Anna. “Thank God.”
I didn’t mean it literally. Maria looked to James for some sense of how things were going. Though his hand rested on hers, his eyes were still gone.
Abi chased Noah through the kitchen. Anna shooed them out. Maria could see the stress etched into her forehead despite her talk of god taking care of everything.
“Anna?” Maria asked. “If it’s okay with you, James and I could take the kids down to the lake. It’s nice out today. Might not be soon.”
Anna nodded. “Might do Abi good to get out.”
“You go.” James shook his head, darkness clouding his eyes. “I’m gonna finish what I started. With no one around to hurt.” He wadded his napkin up and threw it away into the trash as he stood. “Gotta get the tree moved so we can fix the roof.” He headed outside without another look at Maria.
Her heart twisted. How long would he hold onto the guilt? It was an accident. He could scarcely kill a spider.
James turned back to Anna. “If you want to go to the lake with Ria, I’ll check in on Samuel every fifteen minutes.”
“Anna, you should come with us,” Maria said to Anna. She didn’t want to spend the afternoon with her step-mom, but if it got Anna out of the house, she might be better off. “I can help you with the chores when we get back.”
“No, I—” Anna glanced toward the bedroom. “No. I shouldn’t.”
“Okay.” Maria’s relief was palpable. Had Anna noticed? As she turned away, her face burned. She hated the way she felt about Anna, and it didn’t matter what either did, they both always ended up hurt. “At least I can give you a break from the kids.” She took her plate to rinse it, but Anna took it from her and scrubbed it, rinsed it, and set it in the drainer. “Thanks. Noah? Abi? You wanna go to the lake?”
Abi’s hoarse cheer of, “Yeah,” was parroted by Noah, “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
Anna hung the dishtowel she’d been drying dishes with on the rod. “Wait. Maria? Maybe I will come with you.” She straightened out the wrinkles. “I’ll go check on Sam and see what he thinks.”
“Okay.” Maria finished the last bite of soup, watching as Anna pulled her hair back and slid her ponytail holder up.
Anna caught Maria watching her. Her grimace changed to a bemused smile. “Need to look presentable for your father.”
“I’ll get the kids ready.” When Anna had disappeared down the hall and into the bedroom, Maria spun on James. “Thanks,” she whispered. “Last thing I want to do today is spend it with her. Don’t really think she wants to be with me either.”
James shrugged. “Sorry. Trying to help.” He kissed the top of her head.
She wrapped her arms around him and placed her ear to his chest, enjoying the steady lub-lub of his heart. “Yeah, well, stop it.”
“Yes, your highness.”
“James?” She twisted her head to look up at him.
“Yes?” He tried for his usual mischief, but the strain showed in the lines in his forehead and the center of his brow.
“James. Be serious with me for a minute?”
“Okay. I’ll try.” His smile faded.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He nodded.
“Truth.”
“Truth. Okay. That’s it. I’m okay. Feeling pretty damn guilty right now. Almost killed you.” His arms pushed her away, extending enough that he could look in her eyes, but not letting her go. “And our baby. Your dad’s hurt bad. He’s not paralyzed, but we don’t even know if there’s something wrong inside him. You can barely tolerate Anna. Nobody knows me. Abi’s sick. Everybody I’ve ever cared for, except you and the baby, is dead.” He put his hand on her belly.
“I’m sorry.” Maria pressed her hand over his. Soon there would be a baby there to touch. She squeezed back into his arms and felt him relax.
He continued, his voice a soft rumble. “Don’t want you to be sorry. I’m away from home and I don’t know what’s going to happen next.” He gave her a wry smile, a sad echo of his usual joy. “But considering what we’re dealing with? Okay is the new excellent.”
~
On the way to the lake, Maria fumed that James had stayed back to finish limbing the downed tree, while she was stuck with Anna. James was treating it like penance—if he worked hard enough, he could make time go backward.
Maria felt her chest tighten and her eyes watering. Damn it. Not like her breaking down would help. There was enough shit going on.
She heard Anna and the kids’ noisy progress behind her. Anna had been trying to be nicer. Maria could see it. But it still didn’t seem real. Was she only making the best of a bad situation? God, she wished Grandpa was still here. He would have taken her out to the woodpile. They would have talked while he taught her to whittle or split firewood. Maybe he could have suggested something to Maria. On the other hand, he didn’t seem to understand Anna either.
The brush was more overgrown than what Maria remembered. She’d walked with Grandpa on the trails, but she couldn’t seem to find them today. Maybe he was too busy this year to clear them, or he… She didn’t want to finish the thought, but she did anyway. Or he was dead. Reality wasn’t going to change just because you ignored it.
Maria pushed aside salmonberry bushes, but they kept getting thicker. She knew the lake was off to her right, and the trail was here somewhere. “You remember where the trail to the lake is?” she called, turning back to look at Anna.
Anna shook her head. “Nah.” She paused for breath. “Baby’s not letting me have as much access to my lungs as I’d like.”
“Where’s the lake?” Noah whined.
“Not far, kid,” Maria said. “How about I stumble around and see if I can find the trail and then the kids can have an easier time.”
Anna acceded with a nod and bent over, blowing fog out into the cool air.
Maria maneuvered further into the underbrush. She grabbed a stick and whacked the berry stalks and prickly devil’s club out of the way. Instead of going forward, she angled to the side further upstream. Then she stepped into the open and a clear path led toward the lake.
“Found it.”
As she looked down, she realized she’d found something else; she was standing in deer pellets. She stepped away and checked the bottom of her shoe. Good thing they didn’t stink much and weren’t as sticky as other animal’s droppings. “I guess it’s the deer run.”
“You see a deer?” Abi called, her voice a hoarse croak.
Maria couldn’t help laughing. “No, Froggy. Just deer poop.”
“Eww.” Abi stepped through where Maria had broken the stalks of the salmonberries. “Deer poopy.”
Noah followed. “I see, I see,” he said, pointing and grinning. “Poopy, poopy. Deer poopy.”
Maria smiled wider than she had in months. “All right. Come see deer poopy, poopy, poopy.”
An unaccustomed smile brightened Anna’s face as she stepped through the brush. Maria could see in that smile why her father loved Anna.
The walk went quickly, only interrupted by more of Noah’s shouts about poopy. Maria held hands with the kids as they neared the shore. A movement ahead closer to the lake caught her attention. “Shh… Listen.”
A brown deer, as big as a small horse, bounded down the trail toward them. She pulled the kids close. The handsome young buck with a single point—deadly sharp—changed direction, crunching through the brush next to where they stood frozen.
“A deer,” Abi said, her voice still cute-scratchy.
“A deer, a deer, a deer,” Noah crowed.
The buck leaped gr
acefully over the brush and back onto the trail. Without a glance back, he bounced off into the trees.
Anna’s face glowed. “Lovely,” she said, her voice reverent. “I loved this place as a kid.”
“Really?” Maria had a hard time picturing Anna out here in the woods clambering over nurse logs. “Me, too.”
“Maybe we have more things in common than either of us realize,” Anna said, still smiling.
“Maybe.” Maria knew they were near the lake. The trees and brush diminished and the amount of driftwood littering the ground increased. Then they broke out into the clearing, only a few logs to climb over and tall and scratchy tule grass to walk through to get to the shallow beach.
“Be careful, Abi and Noah,” Anna said. “Don’t climb on the logs in the water. If they slip and roll, you can get stuck underneath them and drown.”
Abi looked at her mother like she was stupid. “Okay.”
“Kay, kay, kay,” Noah parroted.
The kids wandered along the mucky shoreline, picking up sticks and tossing them into the lake. Anna sat heavily on a curved, sun-whitened drift log. Maria sat down a few feet away.
After a minute Anna spoke, “I know you’re worried about your father. It wasn’t your fault. Wasn’t James’ fault either.” She stared off toward Abi and Noah.
Maria nodded, not sure she trusted herself to say anything. If Anna was saying it wasn’t Maria’s fault, it probably meant part of her thought it was.
Anna continued, “I know you don’t — If I were you, I—” She sighed heavily. Tears ran down her face. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to be a good grandmother.”
Maria reached across and put her hand on Anna’s shoulder. The tightness of her muscles felt like bone. She must be freaking out too, except this time she wasn’t showing it. Maria stood up behind Anna, rubbing the tightness, pressing her thumbs firmly into the knots. She wanted to tell Anna something to make everything better. But nothing would do. Except one thing. “I’m sorry, too.”
Anna’s shoulders shook. She turned and wrapped her arms around Maria, sobbing quietly.
Maria stared down in wonder, her hands still working Anna’s muscles. This is what it is to be a mother. Anna was strong, a lot stronger than Maria had ever given her credit for. Warmth swelled inside her. I will be this strong for my kids.
Anna pulled back after a moment, sniffling. She half laughed as she wiped away her tears and glanced over at the children playing on the beach. “You know, crying without freaking the kids out is a mothering skill.”
“I’ll remember that.” Maria said. “You can always talk to me.” Was she being honest? Yes. Maybe Anna was telling the truth, too. Years of pain melted into tears. She sat down beside Anna and leaned into her. Anna’s arms wrapped around her again, sharing her warmth. The children skipped along, completely enthralled by the shoreline’s adventures to explore.
“I’ll try.” Anna’s hand caressed Maria’s hair.
Maria felt Anna’s protective arms as the little ones’ laughter carried on the wind. “I never hated you, Anna. I wanted… I wanted you to love me like you loved everyone else.”
“I didn’t want you to think I was taking your mother’s place. Or that I wanted to. I held back.”
CHAPTER TEN
MARIA WALKED ON AHEAD OF Anna and the kids on the way back up to the house. Going down to the lake and getting their feet wet had been a great relief. Anna’s words had left a calm connection she had never felt before.
The crisp cold air, almost gone in the warm over the lake, reasserted itself in the shadows of the trees.
Her mind flashed back to the fight she had with James the first night at the lake. About marriage. James wanted to get married. Maria thought the idea was stupid. There was no society left to have appearances for. They were already having a baby. Maybe she shouldn’t have tried to find him. Maybe she should have left him there at the rez. No. She wanted to be with him. She liked herself better when he was around. And keeping him at arm’s length so he wouldn’t hurt her…
As she neared the creek, she heard hollering. She hurried over the split log bridge, her ribs still aching where Dad had knocked her down. The voices grew louder.
“Get the hell away from the house,” yelled a gruff male voice.
“I wouldn’t fight with him if I were you,” another voice warned—feminine and younger.
Maria broke into a jog.
“I can’t leave. There’s a man, hurt really bad inside. My family-–” James begged.
He stood, his hands clenched at his sides; Maria’s heart pounded. She could hear the fear in his voice mixed with the same stubbornness she’d argued with.
“I don’t give a tinker’s damn about your family.”
Tinker’s damn? No. It couldn’t be. A gunshot echoed off the wall of the house.
James dropped to his knees.
“NO!” Maria screamed. Oh, God, don’t die.
“Don’t shoot. It’s my girlfriend’s family’s house,” James hollered. He wasn’t shot.
“Like hell it is!”
“Thomas, relax!” the woman’s voice ordered.
Thomas? Tom? Maria yelled, “Grandpa?” The silence echoed. James waved her back. She ignored him and ran onward. Her grandfather stood there mostly hidden behind a tree, rifle lowering—a grizzled old man with his head in a ratty wool stocking cap. He stared at her as she wrapped her arms around James and the worst of the terror let go. “Grandpa Tom? It’s Maria.”
“Maria? Samuel’s daughter?”
Maria saw recognition dawn. “Yes.” She grinned at James, shrugging her shoulders as she stepped back from him. “I guess Grandpa’s not dead.”
Grandpa leaned his rifle against the tree and opened his arms to Maria. “Your hair’s a lot darker than the bleached blonde I recollect,” he muttered.
Maria rushed into his arms and he pulled her in close; she remembered this bear of a man squeezing her so she could hardly breathe. He seemed smaller, slighter now.
“I’m in college now, trying to be more adult. Thought I’d let it go back to brown,” Maria said. He still smelled the same—wood smoke and old man.
A woman with long dark hair streaked with gray came around the corner of the Suburban, shotgun in her hands.
He released Maria to hold her at arm’s length. “You thought I was dead?”
“Everyone else is dead,” Maria said.
“Only the good die young, little girl. I’ve got a long time left.”
“And you’re bad, Tom?” The woman sized up Maria. “Are you going to introduce us?”
Grandpa nodded at the woman. “This is Holly. My new, uh, partner.”
Holly snorted. “Partner?”
“Well,” Grandpa demanded, “What do you want me to call you? Girlfriend sounds stupid.”
“Whatever, Tom.” She nodded at Maria and James. “I’m Holly, his new partner… in crime.”
Maria nodded back. “That man you were gonna shoot, Grandpa, is James my... uh, partner.” She glanced at James and his face was stone, belying his near death experience. “James, meet my great grandpa.”
“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. Not sure I’m so great today,” Grandpa said with a sheepish grin. He offered his hand to James, who moved to shake it. They both stopped, uncertain.
“If you’re not dead yet,” Holly said, “a handshake is not going to kill you two.”
They shook hands.
“Actually,” Maria patted her tummy, “you’re gonna be a monkey’s great-great-grandpa.”
The old man whistled and hugged her again, kissing her forehead. Grandpa released Maria. “James? Congratulations are in order, I s’pose.”
“Thanks.” James wrapped his arms around Maria protectively.
“You didn’t answer the phone,” Maria accused. Her heart was pounding. Until she saw him, she hadn’t realized how much she had missed him.
“Always hated the damn thing.” He tugged at his beard. “Hasn’t worked
for weeks.”
“What the hell is all the shooting about?” Anna called from the creek side.
“It’s Grandpa,” Maria hollered. “He’s alive.” She felt her face aching with her smile. “Your beard’s epic, Grandpa.”
The door to the house slammed.
“Epic?” He chuckled. “That’s good?”
“Who’s shooting who?” Anna stomped into view. “Come on, kids. It’s safe. Relatively anyway.”
“Nobody’s shootin’ nobody,” Grandpa growled.
Anna had reached them now. “Where have you been, you old…” She wrapped her arms around Grandpa.
He hugged her back and kissed her cheek. “Fool?” he offered. “I moved in with Holly.”
Abi reached for Maria’s hand. Noah stayed partly hidden behind her. Maria realized he didn’t remember Grandpa. It had been a few years, almost half of Abi’s life.
“Well,”—Grandpa knelt near to Noah and Abi’s level—”Who do we have here? Abigail and Noah?”
Anna and Holly studied each other.
Maria stifled a laugh. She could feel the tension. Holly looked about ten years older than Anna, young enough to be Grandpa’s kid. Well, Grandpa was spry, if curmudgeonly.
Holly turned to James. “You said there’s someone hurt inside?”
“My dad,” Maria said, “Saved me from getting hit by that branch.”
“I used to be a nurse,” Holly said, handing her shotgun to Grandpa.
Anna’s face softened. “My husband needs medical attention.”
Holly straightened. “Okay. Take me to him.”
“And this little one, too,” Anna said, taking Abi’s hand and scooping up Noah. “She’s got a bad cold.”
~
Maria stuck her head in the room, trying to see past Anna and Grandpa. Her grandfather had always remained aloof with her Dad, but there was a look of concern peering from underneath the bushy white brows as Holly poked and prodded. Maybe her dad and Anna were exaggerating about Grandpa’s meanness and disinterest.
Her father gave soft groans of discomfort until Holly finally stopped. She stepped back, her arms crossed.
Deserted Lands (Novel): Toils and Snares Page 8