“So tell me about your house,” she said.
He shrugged and said nothing.
“What’s your room like?” she asked.
Once again he said nothing.
“I’d love to hear about it,” she tried once more, disheartened that her attempts weren’t working.
“My mom said you would ask questions about her,” Walter said.
Maddie paused for a split second before gathering her thoughts. She finished stirring and put the bowl on the counter. Walter stared at it but didn’t try to sneak any dough. She got a spoon from the drawer and filled it for him. He didn’t say thank you.
“I’m not asking about your mom,” Maddie said, annoyed to even have to think about her. “I just want to know about you.”
“Why?” he asked so quietly she could barely hear him.
“Because you’re Matt’s boy,” she said, feeling stupid and wondering if she should send him back to the TV. “And that makes you my boy too. I want you to have a good time here, and I want to get to know you.”
He finished his spoonful of dough as she dropped blobs from the bowl onto the cookie sheet.
“I wish you guys had chickens,” he said.
Maddie couldn’t help but laugh. “Where would we put them?” she asked, hoping he was opening up and it wasn’t just her imagination that he seemed softer. “In the bathtub?”
“Where would you take a bath?” Walter asked with no hint of a smile on his face, making it hard to tell if he was teasing or not.
“Good point,” she said. “Maybe we could put them in your closet. Would you like that?”
“They would stink,” Walter said, and his face transformed. The humor Maddie had seen when meeting him for the first time was back, making her wonder at the stoic expression he’d worn the last two days. “We should put them in your closet.”
“You mean they won’t stink in my closet?” Maddie asked.
They kept trying to decide where to keep the chickens, and finally determined they would put them on the back patio and cover the whole thing with chicken wire. Walter then went on to ask where they would put the sheep, and they concluded that sheep were out of the question. But in the process Maddie learned a lot about this little boy, his shy laugh, and the life he had lived. By the time Matt returned home, Maddie felt they had made progress.
Every day after that became more and more comfortable. Maddie could get Walter to talk about anything and liked hearing about his life. It was so different from the childhood she’d had. He talked about hunting, ceremonies, Grandmother, and the things she taught him, like making fry bread and sewing. He even made fry bread for dinner one night, with minimal supervision. He seemed to know so much for such a young boy. By the weekend Maddie felt like she knew Anna as well as he did. Maddie couldn’t help wondering if she was more of a mother to him than Sonja was. The fact that Walter never said a word about his mother helped drive that home. When a question seemed to be tied to her in any way, he clammed up, a suspicious look blanketing his expression.
Though he didn’t say so, Maddie knew it was overwhelming for Walter to be in such a new place. Maddie tried to get him to talk about it, and he finally explained how different it was here. She tried to be sympathetic and make him comfortable, but he still had that stolid expression bordering on fearful for the first several days—she hoped it would go away in time. He was, however, exceptionally clean—showering every day—and very tidy. Matt and Maddie were familiar with the “dirty Indian” assumptions, but Walter, even at his young age, proved that not to be the case. It helped when he made friends with a boy at the complex and felt more comfortable playing outside.
The haircut was an issue. Walter’s hair looked as if it hadn’t been cut in several months, and as if he had done the last cutting himself. Maddie begged and pleaded with him to get it cut, but he refused. He said he was growing it long like his friend Jason Grey Bear. Finally he told her it was a Navajo tradition. She dropped it and bought him a baseball cap that he agreed to wear most of the time.
In accordance with Allen’s advice to take the Church slowly, they explained only minimal things before taking Walter to church with them on Sunday. Before walking into the building, they exchanged a look—this was something they had dreaded. It was all they had thought it would be. Several people asked them straight out who Walter was. Each time, Matt or Maddie took a breath and said that Walter was Matt’s son. Most people were polite enough not to ask any more questions, but curiosity burned in their eyes. Although it did get a little easier with each explanation, it was all they could do to ignore the looks and whispers they encountered. Maddie wished they had been able to sell the condo before now. It had been listed for over a month.
On the upside, several members went out of their way to say hello to Walter, to swallow their surprise and bite back the other questions they obviously wanted to ask. The Primary president was wonderful, letting them know that she had spoken to Walter’s teacher and that she would make sure he was well cared for. The support of those people was tremendously helpful. All in all, it went as well as they could have hoped for—but they were relieved when the final prayer was said.
On the drive home they asked him how it was, and he said it was fine.
Fine wasn’t too bad. They could live with fine.
Chapter 31
On Monday night, six days after Walter’s arrival, Matt and Maddie took him grocery shopping. It was the first time, other than church, that they had gone anywhere all together. When they passed the candy aisle, Walter grabbed Maddie’s arm. “If I’m good, can I have a treat?” he asked.
“One,” Maddie told him. “Pick it now, but I’ll put it back if I have to.” Matt knew she wouldn’t have to—Walter was always well behaved. Soon the boy was on his knees weighing the benefits of one candy bar against the merits of another. After almost a minute Matt sighed, “Come on, Walter, hurry.” Maddie gave her husband a look, but he ignored it.
Walter grabbed a Twix bar and ran back to the cart. Holding it up for them to see, he explained how this was his favorite because it had two. Maddie smiled as if she thought that was cute. Matt started toward the next aisle, trying to keep his frustration at bay. In some ways, watching Maddie be so good with Walter made it even harder—he felt left out somehow, as if he was the only one struggling.
“Can I get some pop?” Walter asked when they were almost finished shopping. Matt gave him an exasperated look.
“No,” Maddie said. Even though Matt would have said yes, he liked that Walter was being denied something. But he felt guilty for it.
“Please?” Walter whined.
“No,” Maddie said, continuing forward.
“Come on, pleeeeeeeaaaaaase?”
“Walter,” Matt said loudly. “Enough. She said no.”
Maddie gave Matt a look, then she turned to Walter. “Okay, one six-pack, but we’re about to check out, so come find us at the checkstand.”
Walter turned and ran down the aisle.
Matt pulled some frozen vegetables from the freezer section and threw in a bag of Popsicles. “Thanks for being consistent,” he said a few seconds later.
“Yeah,” Maddie said with a snort. “I’m going to take parenting tips from you.”
Matt swung his head around, eyes flashing, at the same moment someone called his name.
They both swiveled to find the voice, and Matt groaned inside when he recognized who it was: Dave Richardson, an old high-school friend. He lived in the neighborhood north of their apartment complex. Though they were in different wards, they saw each other now and then. Matt wondered why he hadn’t tried to convince Maddie they should go to a grocery store on the opposite end of the valley.
“Dave, you remember Maddie, my wife?” Matt said when Dave reached them. Dave smiled. “Maddie, this is Dave Richardson, from high school. He’s in the Sixth Ward.”
Maddie smiled, “Oh, yeah. I thought you looked familiar.”
Dave was all smiles.
They talked about the rumor that the stake was going to split soon, a mutual friend’s new call as Scoutmaster, and Dave’s three kids. Just as the conversation ran down, Walter found them and handed Matt a six-pack of Coors Light. Matt was too shocked to know how to react.
The three adults just stood there, Matt holding the beer, and Maddie and Dave staring at it. Walter looked back and forth between them, his face falling.
“This is Walter,” Matt finally said, not knowing what to do.
Maddie took the beer and knelt down to speak to Walter. “We don’t drink beer,” she said in a quiet voice.
“Walter?” Dave repeated, looking at the little boy like he was an alien life form.
“My son,” Matt added. Maddie looked up and shot him an encouraging smile, but it didn’t make him feel better.
Dave looked back at Walter and then back at Matt. He seemed on the verge of laughing, but after seeing Matt’s face, he shut his mouth. “I didn’t know you’d adopted.”
Matt wanted to run out of the building and hide—preferably in the path of a bus. “No, he’s mine,” he said.
Maddie excused herself and Walter at that point. The two of them headed back down the adult beverage aisle.
Dave watched as Walter walked away from them. “Are you serious?” he asked. Matt nodded and tried to smile, hoping to hide his embarrassment. “How old is he?” asked Dave.
Matt cleared his throat, wishing Maddie would hurry back, create a distraction, and help him escape. But he had no choice but to answer. “He’s nine.”
Dave clamped his mouth shut and gave Matt a look that Matt didn’t want to define. But Dave said nothing.
“It’s kind of a complicated story,” Matt said, wanting to disappear. “I didn’t find out he was around until a few months ago.”
Dave looked as if he wanted to ask more questions but apparently thought better of it. He’d been seminary president in high school and had always had a little Peter Priesthood in him. Of all the people Matt could have run into like this, Dave would have been at the bottom of the list. “Well, good to see you,” Dave said, then turned and walked away.
Matt clenched his eyes closed and cursed the entire situation. Life was not supposed to turn out like this.
The drive home was uncomfortable and silent. Walter stared out the window and ran inside as soon as they pulled into the apartment complex. Matt and Maddie stayed in the car.
“I’m sorry that happened,” Maddie said quietly.
Matt sighed. Then he tipped his head back on the seat and closed his eyes. “Is this what I get to deal with for the rest of my life?” he asked no one in particular. Maddie didn’t answer—he took her silence to mean yes. “What did you tell Walter?”
“I told him beer isn’t good for us, that God says not to drink it.”
“What did he say to that?”
“He said we told him to get a six-pack. To him that means beer.”
Matt shook his head. “How on earth are we supposed to mix these worlds for him, Maddie? No matter how much we try, he’ll go home and live in the slums, and then he’ll come back, and we’ll deal with the awkwardness all over again. We’re going to do this over and over? What’s the point, Maddie?” His voice rose a degree. “We are fooling ourselves if we think we can change him. He was better off without all this confusion.”
“We don’t need to change him, Matt. We need to teach him. Any good we can give him will be for his benefit.”
“Yeah, right. We’re supposed to compete with a lifetime’s worth of teaching—or nonteaching, in his case—with two months a year.”
“That’s not fair,” Maddie protested. “He has far surpassed some of our expectations, and it’s obvious someone is teaching him an awful lot. Find me one other nine-year-old boy who’s as clean and polite as he is. You’re overreacting.”
“No, you’re underreacting. Don’t you see the differences between his life and ours? They’ll never go away, and all the while we’ll be exposing our own kids to those things.”
Maddie took a deep breath. Matt could sense her anger rising, but he didn’t mind. He was primed for a good argument. Anything to vent a little.
“Maybe you’ve forgotten we don’t have our own kids, Matt. We have Walter. And we only get him for a little while.” Matt looked away and clenched his jaw. “You’re just embarrassed,” she added with her hand on the door release.
Matt swung back to look at her. “You’re right, but can you blame me? My son thinks beer is a soda.”
“You chose the girl, Matt,” she spat out. “Ten years ago the differences would have been something to consider—now it’s way beyond that.”
Matt narrowed his eyes and glared at her. “Very profound, Maddie.” The reminder, however, cut to the quick, and he seethed in anger that this had ever happened in the first place. “You’re the one who wanted him to come,” he said, more than happy to share the blame any way he could.
Maddie narrowed her eyes. “You did this, Matt. Not him and not me. We both agree you were an idiot back then, but try to act like a grown-up now, okay? Let Walter be the child.”
She got out and slammed the car door before heading up the steps. He didn’t care what she thought, this wasn’t the way he wanted to spend the rest of his life—tonight had just hit the fact home. For almost a minute he tried to calm himself down enough to go in and talk to her. It didn’t work. He finally slammed the car into reverse and squealed out of the parking lot.
****
Once inside the house Maddie tried to keep herself from crying. Was that really what he thought—that having Walter come was all her idea? It made her boil inside, and yet she had to ask herself if it had been mainly her idea to push for this. A tear escaped her eye, and she wiped it away. She should go to Walter, try to explain, but she didn’t know what to say.
For several minutes she waited for Matt to come in, but he never did. The groceries were still in the car, but when she ventured outside, she discovered the car was gone. Perfect. She went back in and knocked on Walter’s door, coaxing him out with popcorn and root-beer floats. She got him to bed at ten, despite his pleading to watch one more movie, and then she went into her own room and tried to draw out her bedtime routine, allowing Matt as much opportunity as possible to come home and talk it over. At eleven she put down her scriptures and turned off the light. She didn’t know what she would say to him anyway.
Maddie wasn’t sure what time Matt came home. The only reason she knew he had been home at all was the fact that his shower in the morning woke her up. She snuck into the kitchen to see that the groceries had been put away—at least he’d done that much. But she decided to make him come to her this time. She got back in bed before he could realize she had been up. She lay quietly, listening, until the outside door shut behind him . . . without a conversation.
Matt called from work that afternoon to remind her he had a dinner appointment. He could pick Walter up from Kim’s at three, but Maddie would have to hurry home from work as soon as she got off so he would make it to the restaurant. Their conversation was clipped and short, and Maddie hung up the phone in frustration.
The next day Matt was home in the evening, but they avoided each other—each waiting for the other to make the first move. By Friday Maddie gave in. This was all familiar territory—the avoidance, the unspoken thoughts between them—and she didn’t need another lesson on keeping the lines of communication open. There was enough stress without it.
On her lunch hour she drove to his office, hoping he hadn’t gone out. He was on the phone and looked surprised when she shut the door behind her. He ended the phone call after a minute. “Hi,” he said in an even tone.
“Don’t do this to me,” she said.
“Do what?” he returned with irritation.
“Hide—run—avoid this. You did that before. I can’t take it again.”
He said nothing, but his face softened, and it gave her strength to continue. “This is hard, Matt. I’ve never
said otherwise. But giving me the silent treatment, ignoring your son, and pulling inside yourself isn’t going to help. I won’t put up with it again. I won’t.”
Matt let out a breath and leaned forward, staring at the desktop. “I’m sorry, Maddie,” he whispered, and she felt her anger drain away. She took a chair across the desk from him and leaned forward to take his hand.
“He’s just a little boy, Matt. Yes, he’s grown up different from us. Yes, there will always be things about him we don’t understand or know how to deal with. But he’s still a little boy. Don’t shut me out. I mean it when I say I can’t do it again.”
He looked up at her and nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’ll do better.”
“Promise?”
He managed a humble smile and a nod. “I promise.” They shared his sandwich and talked things over. By the time she left, she felt like they’d made an important step. He’d promised not to hide, and she’d promised not to let him. It was a good beginning.
****
Matt started by reading Walter a chapter from Black Beauty before bed that night. He didn’t love it, but when it was over, he realized it wasn’t so bad. The next afternoon, Saturday, they took Walter to the zoo, and Maddie seemed to make a conscious effort to make Matt step up. He couldn’t help but notice, though, that Walter gravitated to Maddie. It was hard to blame him for that. Matt continued to marvel at how well she’d taken it on.
From that point on, despite the fact that it didn’t come easily for him, he forced himself to spend time with the boy. Allen needed help putting in a sprinkler system, and Matt started taking Walter over there with him after work. It impressed him that Walter seemed more than willing to help out. Grandmother wasn’t kidding when she said he knew how to work. Together they dug trenches and lined up the pipes. Walter was a great help, and his being there made Matt feel rather important and . . . well, paternal. Allen was a big help too, acting as a buffer zone and helping Matt see how easy it was to interact with a kid that age. The sprinkler system took the entire week and most of the next Saturday to finish. Walter was pleased with himself, and Matt was, too. “We make a good team,” Matt said when it was finished. Walter just nodded. Though Matt was doing better, it was taking Walter a while to trust the new and improved dad. Allen told him that was normal. Normal but annoying.
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