And then she remembered.
“Walter,” she whispered, her stomach sinking. He always got home before Anna. Where was he?
“Walter?” she called as loudly as she dared. Sonja’s screams had turned to wailing sobs, sounding like a woman in mourning. Anna knew she needed to get out of the trailer before Sonja came inside. It smelled funny, and Anna wondered what new substance had been added to Sonja’s lifestyle.
“Walter?” she called again, abandoning her cleanup efforts, but still holding the cold rag against her head to control the bleeding. She checked his room, but he wasn’t there.
After searching the trailer, she went out the back door. “Walter?” she called in a loud whisper, praying Sonja wouldn’t come around to the back. She heard a scraping sound and hurried toward a hole in the metal sheeting that hid the crawlspace below the metal house. Walter peeked out a few seconds later, and Anna breathed a sigh of relief. His face went pale when he saw her, and she remembered how scary she looked.
“I’m okay,” she whispered. “It’s just a little blood. We need to get out of here.”
Walter hesitated; then Sonja started up with a war cry. Apparently Sonja was feeling a little more Apache than Navajo today. Sonja’s piercing screams spurred Walter to scramble out from his hiding place. He took Anna’s hand, and together the two of them hurried away. They headed for Grandmother’s hogan half a mile away. She was their only refuge.
By the time they reached Grandmother’s, Anna felt light-headed and sick to her stomach—very similar to how she’d felt months earlier after her encounter with José. Grandmother was standing in her doorway as if waiting for them.
“Walter, feed my chickens,” she ordered in a mild voice that managed to be firm and comforting all at once. “Anna, come inside.”
She said nothing as she tended to Anna’s injury, which turned out to be an inch-and-a-half semicircular gash extending from the middle of her left eyebrow nearly to the corner of her eye. Grandmother treated it with an herb poultice and natural bandages before making Anna drink another vile-tasting tea.
“Do I need stitches?” Anna asked when Grandmother finished.
“No stitches,” Grandmother said, “but lots of attention.” She sat down opposite Anna and looked at her with soft, dark eyes. “It is getting worse,” she said.
Anna swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. It was definitely getting worse. Her commitment to keep Walter on the Reservation was feeling more like a betrayal than a blessing. Hot tears came to her eyes as she realized that unless things took a drastic turn for the better, he might one day be taken away. The thought tore her up inside, but Grandmother’s words from several months before came back to her: “I worry for his safety with that woman.”
Sonja hadn’t been physically violent before. But Anna had all but given up on things getting better, and it was depressing to think that the best she could hope for was that things wouldn’t get worse. It seemed like an idiotic thing to put her faith in.
****
Walter and Anna stayed at Grandmother’s for two days, during which time Anna gathered her strength and prepared for a confrontation with her sister. She couldn’t let this continue.
On Wednesday she skipped school and, after seeing Walter safely on the school bus, walked to the trailer, praying for strength with every step she took. As she had hoped, she found Sonja still asleep. When she got up, she would be sober.
It was nearly eleven before the door to Sonja’s bedroom opened. Anna was finishing some dusting and turned to face her sister.
At first Sonja pretended not to think anything was wrong, and Anna allowed her to do so. But after a few minutes, Sonja asked where Walter was.
“At school,” Anna answered. Sonja sat down at the table and lit a cigarette, her hands shaking. Anna knew she needed a beer, but was glad she hadn’t had one yet. “Sonja,” she began, relieved that her voice was sounding stronger than she felt. She pulled out the other chair and sat down across from her sister. “I’m scared for you.”
Sonja looked up. To Anna’s relief, she didn’t appear angry or offended. But she didn’t say anything either. Her eyes were focused on the cut on Anna’s forehead, and for the first time Anna was glad it was there. It seemed to serve as a symbol of all that had gone wrong—at least, Anna hoped Sonja would feel that way.
Anna took a breath and prayed again that the Holy One would be with her. “You are my sister, and I love you. But I fear for you. I do not think you are well.” Anna realized that she was speaking like Grandmother did, without contractions and in a paced tone of reverent counsel. She hoped Sonja wouldn’t be angered by it.
Sonja was still staring at Anna’s face. “I did that?” she whispered, her cigarette burning down without her taking a single drag.
Anna nodded.
“And Walter? Did I . . . hurt him?”
Anna was surprised. Did Sonja not remember any of that day? “No,” she assured her sister. “He hid beneath the trailer. I found him, and we went to Grandmother’s.”
“I know,” she said, taking a deep inhale from her cigarette. “I walked there yesterday and saw you there.” She looked at the table. “I’m so sorry. José left me, told me he hated me, that I was nothing. It hurt too much.”
Again, Anna was taken off guard by her sister’s candor and shame. She had expected a battle of wills, not an acceptance—and certainly not an apology. The explanation made sense of that day a little better, though it did nothing to alter Anna’s intent for this meeting.
“We need you to be well,” Anna said. “You need you to be well.”
The tears began to fall from Sonja’s eyes, something Anna had never seen. “I don’t know how to be well anymore,” her sister said. “I am so lost inside myself.”
“I can help you,” Anna said. “If you will let me.”
They talked for several minutes, until Sonja could no longer concentrate and had to get a beer from the fridge. Even then they continued to talk, to discuss options. As the beer kicked in, Sonja became more prideful, explaining away the depth of the problems. But in the end she agreed to work on things—to do better. Anna agreed to help any way that she could, and finally ended the conversation when Sonja opened her fourth beer of the day. Anna knew her progress had been stymied, and yet she was more hopeful than she had ever been. The mere fact that Sonja knew she had a problem, that she’d apologized for what she’d done, seemed to be a good omen. We can do this, she thought as she walked back to Grandmother’s to tell her how the confrontation had gone. Together, we can make this work. Now, if she could just bring together the other parts of her plan.
Chapter 42
This is Matt,” he said into the phone, using the greeting he used at the office. He’d been home for over an hour and was putting the finishing touches on the only meal he knew how to cook—meat loaf. After dinner, he and Maddie would work it off at the gym. They were both in better shape than ever, and exercising had become a bit of an addiction. And a distraction too.
“Matthew Shep?” a soft female voice asked.
Matt paid a little more attention. “Yes.”
The woman or girl on the other end took a deep breath. “My name is Anna Begay. I’m Sonja Hudson’s sister—Walter’s aunt.”
Matt felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. “Yes, hello, Anna. Is everything okay?” He couldn’t imagine she would call him for any other reason but bad news.
“Everything is fine,” she said, but something in her tone made him not believe her. She hurried on. “I was wondering if there was any way Walter could spend Christmas with you?”
Matt furrowed his brow and leaned against the counter, paying very close attention to the conversation. “Sonja rejected our request for Christmas visitation back in October,” he said.
“I know,” Anna said, her voice laced with apology, though they both knew it wasn’t her fault. “But I think she would reconsider.”
Matt was confused. What was going on? �
�I’m not sure I understand.”
Anna was silent. “Sonja would kill me if she knew I was calling you,” she finally said. “And I know everything has to go through your lawyer, but could you please ask again? I know Walter wants to go, and I think Sonja would allow it now.”
“Anna,” Matt said, his anxiety increasing by the second. “What’s wrong?”
She was silent for a few seconds. “Never mind. Please don’t tell anyone I called.”
The line clicked, and after a few moments the dial tone returned. Matt hit the caller ID button and called the number back. A different woman answered, and for a moment his stomach clenched as he thought that it was Sonja.
“Is Anna there?” he asked. The woman said yes, and for him to hold on. She didn’t sound like Sonja, and when he checked the number on his phone again, he realized it wasn’t from her house. He let out a breath of relief.
“Hello?” the same cautious voice asked.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I won’t ask any questions, and I’ll make the petition again.”
Anna was silent for a few moments. “You can’t tell anyone I called,” she said. “If you tell the lawyers I talked to you about this, I’ll say I didn’t.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” he promised, though it killed him to say so. He wanted to tell his lawyer, call the police—but he wanted her trust even more.
“Not even Walter,” she continued. “He has to think you want him to come.”
“We do want him to come,” Matt said, mildly offended that she would insinuate otherwise. “That’s why we petitioned in the first place.”
“I know,” she said. “That’s not what I meant. He can’t know I called.”
“Okay,” Matt said. “I’ll make the petition today.”
“Thank you,” Anna said with relief.
“Anna,” he said, not wanting to push too far, but unable to leave things as they were. He battled with what words to use for a few moments. “Call me anytime.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I will.”
Matt called his attorney and asked to make the petition again. The attorney was confused, and Matt wanted to explain but couldn’t. Instead he simply said he had a feeling. When Maddie came home, he told her about Anna’s phone call.
“What do you think is wrong?” she asked, concern heavy on her face.
“I don’t know,” Matt said, putting plastic wrap over the last of the meat loaf before putting it in the fridge. “But she wasn’t about to tell me, and she hung up the first time when I asked too many questions. We gave Sonja ten days to get back to us.”
“I hope Walter’s okay,” Maddie said.
“Me too.”
****
One week after making the request, Matt received a call from his attorney telling him Sonja had agreed. Through the week of waiting, he’d gone over a hundred possibilities of what had prompted Anna’s call, and none of them were good. He wondered if he should have gone to the police, or told his attorney, or done . . . something. But through each scenario the soft, scared voice of Walter’s aunt—the person he felt was more a parent than Sonja was—came back to him. Matt trusted her, and wanted her to trust him, and when he prayed he felt pretty certain the Lord agreed.
Matt told Maddie the news when she got home, and she was thrilled. They made flight reservations for Walter that night. Then they went Christmas shopping. They’d already bought some things that were ready to be mailed, should their petition be denied again. But since he was coming, they would need stocking stuffers and a few more gifts. They loved every minute of it.
Hours later, as they made their way home through the snowy streets, Maddie told Matt about the call she’d had from Gayla that day. “That girl, Kirsten,” Maddie said. “The one we met with?”
Matt nodded, feeling the burn in his stomach that always accompanied thoughts of the experience. In the two months since they had met Kirsten, no other birth mothers had requested to meet them. They didn’t talk about it very much.
“She kept the baby,” Maddie said.
Matt turned to look at his wife. “She did?”
Maddie nodded. “The adoptive parents were there for the delivery and everything. Kirsten even chose not to see the baby after it was born. She waited twenty hours.”
Matt let out a breath, feeling such sorrow for the adoptive parents. In Utah, the birth mother had to wait twenty-four hours before she could sign the paperwork. The fear that she would change her mind at the last minute was every couple’s worst nightmare. “That’s horrible,” Matt said.
Maddie nodded. “She’s fifteen years old and she chose to raise that baby.”
They didn’t say anything for several minutes, both reviewing the situation in their mind. Matt didn’t blame Kirsten for wanting to keep her baby. It was amazing to him that anyone that young could make such a mature choice as adoption, but it still stung. “It could have been us,” he said as they pulled into their apartment complex. “We could have been that couple waiting at the hospital and going home alone.”
“I don’t think I could have survived it,” she whispered.
“Me neither,” Matt said. He reached over and put a hand on Maddie’s knee. “I suppose it did work out for the best after all.”
****
Walter arrived on December twenty-first. He was all smiles. They spent the next three nights shopping, going to Temple Square, and attending a couple of Christmas parties. Christmas morning, Walter’s eyes were huge when he came upstairs to see the tree. After presents—more than they should have given—they went to Matt’s parents’ house for Christmas dinner. Walter played with his cousins, showing off his new shoes and bragging about his Game Boy while oohing and ahhing over their gifts. One cousin in particular, Jeff, was close to Walter’s age, and they got along fabulously. It did Maddie’s heart good to see him blend in so well. When he had come for the summer, they had taken the transition slowly, but now it seemed as if he’d always been a part of this group. Maddie was relieved that he’d adjusted so well. It had been her fear that he wouldn’t fit in, that he would be on the outside of things. But her fears had been unfounded, and she considered it a blessing not to have one more thing to worry about.
Two days later was the annual Shep sleepover at Grandma’s house. All grandkids over the age of five spent the night at Matt’s parents’ home. Maddie had the week off from work, so she drove Walter over and then hung around to make sure everything was okay.
“He’s fine,” Cindy, Matt’s oldest sister, said after almost two hours. She and her family had come in from Ohio and were staying with Matt’s parents—though Cindy and her husband were escaping to a bed and breakfast for the night. “Enjoy the break.”
Maddie just smiled, not wanting to get into the fact that her breaks were when Walter was with them. As much as she wanted him to bond with his cousins and grandparents, she was selfish about her time with him too. “I’ll go tell him good-bye,” Maddie said. She went downstairs, interrupting the movie to kiss him good-bye. He waved her off like any nearly-ten-year-old would do, and she walked slowly upstairs, telling herself not to take it personally.
“You okay?” Cindy asked when Maddie got to the top of the stairs.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I’ll just miss him.”
“You’re a great mom.”
Maddie was startled and froze midstep.
“What?” Cindy asked, looking concerned. “What did I say?”
Maddie tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “No one’s ever called me that before,” she whispered, feeling silly, but somehow relieved of a burden she’d forgotten was there.
Cindy smiled. “Well, get used to it. You’re a natural.”
****
Four days later, on New Year’s Day, they waved good-bye to Walter as an airport worker led him to the plane. It was hard to see him go, but they were more used to it this time. On the way home, Matt pulled into a Jamba Juice. “Got a craving?” Maddie asked.
; Matt turned to look at her. “James called me this morning, but I didn’t want to bring it up before. Sheryl’s pregnant.”
“Again,” Maddie said. Matt’s best friend had three kids already. Her instant expectation was to feel bitter, but she noticed that the raw anger and envy weren’t as strong as they used to be. She had no desire to get in deeper and dredge up the hurt. So she didn’t, and was surprised how easy it was. When did it change? she wondered. She was happy for James and Sheryl—she really was.
“Yeah,” Matt said in a flat tone.
Maddie smiled and opened her door. “I want a cookie, too.”
****
Sonja was waiting for Walter when Bearcloud dropped him off that evening, and she pulled him into a huge hug. While Anna put the finishing touches on a mutton stew, Sonja asked Walter all about his trip. She didn’t make any demeaning comments about Matt or his wife, and was very complimentary in regards to Walter’s gifts. Anna couldn’t have been happier.
After the trip to Salt Lake had been confirmed, Anna and Sonja had planned out their own undertaking. Sonja had dealt with the rehabs before and didn’t want to go back, so Anna had agreed to oversee her detoxification. It had been horrible. For five days Sonja had been sick and delusional, and she cried most of the time. There were many times Anna didn’t think they would make it through. But as a tribute to the commitment Sonja had made, she weathered the storms. On the fifth day, she finally held down some food. It had been uphill since then. The sisters had gone for walks, they had deep-cleaned the trailer, Sonja had even woven on Grandmother’s loom for the first time in many years. Sonja had also agreed to start smoking outside. They had enjoyed a quiet holiday, and for the first time in Anna’s life, she had felt she really had a sister.
Now Walter was home, and she saw Sonja being the mother he had never had. Anna smiled and filled the bowls with stew.
“Dinner’s ready,” she said with a smile. They all circled around the table and enjoyed what may have been the best family dinner they had ever had. Merry Christmas indeed.
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