A Man of Distinction

by Sarah M. Anderson

  Powwows were big deals on the rez. Everyone came for the food and the dancing. Which meant everyone would be there. All those people who he hadn’t seen in years—people who still lived in crappy trailers, who still drank themselves into a stupor. His family would be there.

  Everything he’d tried to escape.

  Tanya was waiting on an answer. Nick knew he should say something smooth, something that wouldn’t knock her opinion of him down another notch—“Sounds great” would be a good start—but he couldn’t do it. It was bad enough to work in a hole of a broom closet, worse to see his son living in near-poverty. He couldn’t bring himself to willingly lower himself any more. He was not going to be one of “those Indians,” damn it. Not for Tanya. Not even for Bear. Not for anyone.

  And to think, just a half hour ago, Nick had been sure Tanya didn’t play any games. Well, she’d played him—right into a corner. And the only way out was through her.

  So he went on the offensive. He couldn’t help it. She had him trapped, so he had to do an end-run. “How many of those people know I’m Bear’s father? No one at the office seems to have a clue.”

  It worked. “What?”

  “My own mother never mentioned you had a kid. Did you tell people you had a one-night stand after a weekend of drinking? Immaculate conception? Who did you name as the father?”

  If he were half the lawyer he thought he was, he wouldn’t be letting the crestfallen look on her face make him feel the slightest bit guilty. She’d backed him into a corner—he’d just returned the favor. He should not feel bad for her.

  But he did, damn it all. Her eyes watered, but he had to admire her self-control, which kept those tears from spilling over. “He was small,” she said, the fierceness in her voice at odds with the wounded expression on her face. “People assumed he was premature. No one suspects you.” She spat the last word out like she’d expected to eat some chocolate and gotten a Brussels sprout instead. “And I don’t expect you to come to the powwow. I wouldn’t want you to debase yourself. God forbid you act like an Indian, Nick. God forbid you be an Indian.”

  He watched her storm back into her dinky house and slam the door. At least he’d been right about one thing. No one in Chicago talked to him like Tanya did.

  He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

  Six

  Tanya walked around the outside of the dance circle. Well, walked was a strong word. She lurched around it, with Bear holding on to both of her hands as he smiled at everyone and every thing—even a bear headdress got a grin. The elders sitting in lawn chairs patted Bear on the head; a few dancers in full regalia swooped him up and spun him around. The red, black and yellow fringe on Bear’s dance shirt whipped around him, almost as if the yarn was laughing out loud for him.

  She loved coming to the powwows. When she’d been younger, she’d competed in the fancy shawl dance, her fringe spinning as much as Bear’s did this afternoon. However, now that she was older, she preferred to do the traditional dance. The fringe still swayed, but not with the same fervor.

  Tanya chatted with people as they made the rounds. Socializing was a huge part of the powwow, but she also took mental notes on who needed to have a hot meal delivered or who was in danger of having their power shut off this winter. One of the reasons she stuck with the receptionist job at the Tribal Council was that Councilwoman Mankiller would sit down with her once a month and listen to Tanya’s “news from the front,” as she called it. If there was enough money in the budget, Councilwoman Mankiller authorized Tanya to pay an electric bill or do the grocery shopping for the elders. It wasn’t a lot, but Tanya could say she was making life better for her tribe, one meal at a time. That was why she’d wanted to be on the Council in the first place—once she had some real power, she’d be able to move up from one meal, one bill at a time to wider initiatives. She’d love to get a real grocery store opened on the rez—that would bring in some local jobs and provide better food choices than what was available at the Qwik-E Mart gas station. But she had to build up considerable political capital to do that. That was why she hadn’t taken Rosebud Armstrong up on her offer to be the legal secretary for her private practice. Tanya had to pay her dues, and she wanted to stay on the front lines where she could make a difference now.

  Of course, her position as a receptionist in the Council office was also good on-the-job training for when Tanya ran for the Council. She had already learned which members always voted no, which ones were vulnerable and which ones were untouchable in an election. She hoped that in two or three years, she’d be in a solid position to make her first run. And part of solidifying that position was making a positive impression on both the voting members of the tribe and the Council itself now, although she hated to qualify her good deeds in such a selfish way. She was making a dent—that was what really counted.

  Still, Nick’s presence had complicated things—and that was putting it mildly. She’d never been able to say no to him, so the fact that she hadn’t let him kiss her the other night was, well, weird. Tanya was proud of herself for not letting Nick charm her into something she would regret. She was sticking to her guns. It made her feel surprisingly grown-up.

  But she also felt terrible, and she wasn’t exactly sure why. Nick was trying—in his materialistic kind of way—and she felt as if she was slamming every door in his face. She wanted to be glad to see him. She wanted to be happy he was interested in their son. She desperately wanted something good to come out of this. What, she didn’t know. Maybe that was the problem.

  The emcee called for all dancers to line up for the opening dance. Tanya slow-walked Bear to the end of the line, where he tried to grab the jingle cones off the dress in front of him. Everyone laughed, and Tanya had a moment of profound peace with the situation. She belonged here, and so did Bear. This place, these traditions, these people—they were a part of her. She wouldn’t turn her back on them.

  The emcee was in the middle of the opening prayer when Tanya felt something change, like lightning had struck nearby. She glanced around, but no one else seemed to notice the strange charge to the air.

  Then she saw him. Nick Longhair was on the other side of the circle watching her. He had one boot-clad foot on the lowest rung of the fence, and an expensive-looking cowboy hat tipped back on his head. The jeans were dark, the T-shirt was tight and the belt buckle shone in the sunlight. He looked like the old Nick, dressed up fancy for a big date. A more expensive version of the old Nick, that was. But the sight of him was enough to make her light-headed. Not the old Nick. A better Nick.

  Tanya gasped when his eyes locked on to hers. He’d come. He was really here. Or she was hallucinating, but if this was a dream, it was the best dream she could imagine. He wasn’t so ashamed of his heritage that he wouldn’t even put in an appearance at a powwow. He wasn’t so ashamed of her that he wouldn’t be seen in public with her.

  The drumming started, and the line began to move into the dance circle. Nick stayed where he was. A few people came up to talk to him, and from what Tanya could see as she and the other dancers moved around the circle, Nick was being friendly instead of standoffish. He shook hands and slapped the backs of a couple of guys who Tanya recognized as old classmates. He even seemed to smile as people pointed to his short hair. He didn’t look resentful or act like he was here against his will. Maybe he was faking it—she wouldn’t put it past him, not after she’d seen the look of horror on his face when she’d suggested he come to the powwow in the first place. But if he was faking it, at least he had the decency to fake it well.

  Finally, the opening dance ended. Nick had moved around to the entrance to wait for them. “Hiya, Tanya.” He had the gall to tip his hat.

  That irritating light-headedness got less light. She could feel the pressure of dozens of eyeballs boring into her back. Everyone knew they’d once been an item. Everyone knew she had a child. As far as everyone knew, Nick didn’t know about Bear until this very moment.

  Clearly
, everyone was waiting for a scene.

  Tanya was frozen. She should do something—what, exactly, eluded her—but she couldn’t even open her mouth. Nick didn’t jump into the gap either. He stood with his hands on his hips, a smile that was more of a challenge than a greeting on his face. Your move, his dancing eyes seemed to say to her. But she had no move to make.

  Good Lord, the whole crowd of people around them was silent. The drummers weren’t even drumming, which meant there was no sound to drown out the pounding of her heart. She didn’t have a plan B. Hell, she wasn’t sure she had a plan A, unless passing out from confusion was a plan. If it was, it wasn’t a good one, that much she knew.

  Bear was the one who broke the tension, God bless the boy. He began clapping and waving at Nick, clearly remembering the nice man who came with toys. “Hi, guy,” Nick said as he plopped his cowboy hat down on Bear’s small head.

  A good-natured chuckle passed through the crowd, the drummers picked up the next drumbeat and the powwow moved on.

  Tanya didn’t, though. Dumbstruck, she couldn’t do much more than keep a grip on Bear. Part of her brain noted that this particular reaction probably meshed well with the fallacy that Nick hadn’t seen the boy before. But mostly she was relieved that the spotlight had shifted off her.

  “I can’t believe you came.” Dang it all, her voice came out quiet and wobbly.

  “I think I was invited,” was all the response she got.

  They couldn’t keep standing here. Even if the crowd wasn’t collectively holding their breaths, people were still watching—and waiting for something to happen. “Um, Mom’s got a spot this way, if you want to come say hi.”

  “I’d love to see Doreen.” Again, there was that sincerity that Tanya wasn’t sure was entirely sincere. Still, it was something to do that moved them away from the crowd, so Tanya headed back to where Mom had spread out her picnic blanket and set up folding chairs. The spot was tucked away on the north side of the dance circle, underneath a pair of scrawny pine trees that provided little shade.

  Mom sat in one of the chairs, fanning her face with a folded paper plate. It wasn’t that hot. Tanya’s mortification veered off into concern. Mom’s headaches were getting worse and worse.

  However, when she saw Tanya and Nick heading straight for her, Mom sat up and managed a pleasant smile. Of course, Mom knew that Nick was Bear’s father. Tanya couldn’t have kept that secret from her own mother if she’d tried. “Nick Longhair, as I live and breathe!”

  Tanya couldn’t help sighing. Mom was going to do this over-the-top. She loved her mother, she really did, but she didn’t see how Mom’s reaction would make this situation less awkward.

  “Hello, Doreen. How are you doing?” Nick walked over and put his arm around her shoulders. “It’s great to see you.”

  Tanya looked around, noting how many people were keeping tabs on the situation. Only fifteen or so. Not everyone, but enough that the gossips would find plenty of firsthand accounts.

  “Missed seeing you around,” Mom said, pulling off a good, stern tone as she looked at Bear.

  “I think I’ll be around a lot more now.” Nick’s voice was smooth as he took Bear from Tanya’s arms. He tickled the baby under the chin, then tossed him up in the air. Bear threw his arms and legs out, the wide smile on his face as loud as any scream of delight.

  Was that his real, sincere answer—or was he just telling Mom what she wanted to hear? Tanya so much wanted to believe that he meant it, but she couldn’t forget what he’d said just the other night—he’d be here for a year at least. Sure, he’d be around a lot more—for a year. But after that?

  Would Nick get tired of playing at being an Indian again, or worse, tired of playing daddy, and hightail it back to Chicago the first chance he got?

  It almost didn’t matter what the answer was. As Tanya watched, he sat cross-legged on the blanket and let Bear take his hat on and off his head while keeping up a polite, friendly conversation with Mom. Every so often, Nick would glance up at Tanya and give her the kind of warm smile that made her want to melt.

  Maybe it didn’t matter that he would leave, which she was certain he would do. Maybe all that mattered was that he was here now.

  * * *

  “So you watch Bear during the day?”

  “Monday through Friday,” Doreen said. “We have a good ol’ time, me and my Bear—don’t we, sweetie?” She leaned over and touched Bear on the nose. “We watch some cartoons, make some lunch, play some games—Nana’s house is always fun, isn’t it, baby?”

  Nick was sure Tanya had said Bear was partially deaf, but as far as he could tell, the little boy understood the vast majority of what was said to him. Right now, for example, he was stretching his arms up to Doreen as if to agree that yes, they did have loads of fun together.

  But beyond that, Nick was shocked by how much Tanya’s mother had changed since he’d seen her last. Her weight had ballooned—not that unusual on the rez, where the only grocery store within sixty miles was a Qwik-E Mart. However, Doreen’s weight seemed to congregate in her legs, to the point that she couldn’t get shoes on her feet.

  How did she keep up with Bear when she could hardly walk? That worried Nick, but not as much as the way Doreen’s glassy eyes blinked at different speeds. The woman looked like she was in the middle of the world’s worst migraine.

  “How have you been feeling?” he asked cautiously.

  “Oh, you know,” Doreen replied, casually waving away his concern, “we all have our crosses to carry.”

  Nick nodded in sympathy, but mentally, his wheels began to turn. He’d spent the last two weeks thinking about one of three things: Tanya, Bear and his current case. He was hip-deep in statements of denial from Midwest Energy Company about whether they had actually drilled underneath the Dakota River and onto the Red Creek Reservation for natural gas, and even if they had—which they were not admitting in a court of law—they were sure the chemicals used in hydraulic fracturing, or fracking, wouldn’t have polluted anything.

  But other evidence showed that those chemicals were showing up in groundwater. When that groundwater made it into homes, people were being poisoned, one glass of water at a time.

  Nick had already checked the maps. Tanya’s little house was several miles outside the radius the tribe maintained was polluted. Doreen’s house was right in the middle of it.

  Most medical studies of the chemical pollutants talked about the neurological problems that occurred when people drank contaminated water. Nick was still working his way through the accusations by the tribe and the denials by Midwest. Now, however, he began to think that he needed to spend more time investigating the human impact of the pollution.

  Doreen and Bear just might turn out to be the keys to his case. He just had to prove that Doreen’s water was contaminated and that both she and Bear were sick because of it. And if he could tie the hearing and speech problems of an innocent child directly to the actions of a money-grubbing corporation—well, that’s when lawyers started tossing around phrases like “slam dunk” and “sure thing.” When confronted with that kind of adorable evidence, corporations were much more likely to sign off on huge settlements than be labeled child poisoners. And the sooner everyone signed off on huge settlements, the sooner Nick could go back to his real life.

  Even as he thought about going back to Chicago, Nick took in his surroundings. Bear had climbed into his lap and was now sucking his thumb, apparently on his way toward a nap. The sky was huge; the steady drumbeat and the whirling dancers in the nearby circle made him feel alive. Some of the guys had given him crap about cutting his hair, but no one treated him like an outsider—not to his face anyway. Despite his earlier concerns about coming to the powwow, he was having fun. Fun had been the last thing on his mind when he’d made his decision. He’d only come to prove Tanya wrong, but he had the sinking feeling he’d actually proved her right.

  He was going to go back to his life in Chicago, that was a given. Thi
ngs here were worse than ever—at least all he’d had to worry about when drinking the water from the river as a kid had been getting an upset stomach. Now the water here was contaminated. Even if he wrung a huge settlement out of Midwest Energy, it still wouldn’t cover the whole cost of cleanup once the legal fees were paid. And even though he had no concrete evidence, there was no doubt in his mind that Bear’s health issues were directly connected to that contamination. All of which made one thing brutally clear.

  He couldn’t leave Bear on this rez.

  He watched Tanya as she prepared to enter the circle for the women’s shawl dance. She looked up to where he sat and shot him a small, private smile.

  A sudden, powerful urge to take her with him all but smacked him between the eyes. He shook it off, though. They’d had this argument before. She wasn’t going anywhere. She liked this hellhole. Sure, the sky here was pretty, and yeah, he was glad he’d come, but he didn’t want to live here. A man couldn’t survive on sweeping vistas alone. He had grown fond of his spacious condo, fine-dining choices and sailing on Lake Michigan. He didn’t want to go back to polluted water and cardboard-covered windows.

  No use getting ahead of himself. Before he started game-planning how Doreen and Bear fit into his case against Midwest Energy, he had to have his facts straight, which meant that he had to get some hard evidence that Doreen Rattling Blanket’s water was contaminated and that Doreen’s and Bear’s health problems were tied to that. He’d need water samples and health records. And if it turned out he was right about this, then those same facts would be what he needed to win a custody battle.

  He didn’t want it to come to that. He didn’t even want to be thinking about dragging Tanya into court. But no matter what a custody case would do to her—or his reputation back in Chicago—he refused to leave Bear in a situation where his health was in danger. This was about his son, first and foremost.

  He’d have to go around Tanya. If she realized what connections he was making and what he intended to do with those connections, she might panic. He’d seen that before, too—people did stupid things when they felt cornered. He’d just found his son—he didn’t want Tanya to up and disappear with the boy. No, this situation required the utmost discretion.