Other Side of Love (A Different Kind of Love Book 5)

by Liz Durano

  “I figured as much. You really did like her. You tried not to show it, but I could tell. That’s when you came back to me for real, after she left and I really thought that was it.” For the first time, I see a pained expression cross Noelle’s face. She takes a deep breath and exhales through her lips. “But it’s been two months since we broke up, Bidzii, and it’s not like I’ve just been sitting around waiting for you to come to your senses.”

  “I’m sorry, Haseya,” I say, calling her by her Diné name which means She Rises. “I never meant to lead you on.”

  “We had a good run,” Noelle says, her smile not matching the sad look in her eyes. “But we can’t fool ourselves into believing it’ll work when the last six years has shown us that it can’t. I want to live here on the res, Bidzii, but all you want to do is leave it. It’s always been that way ever since…”

  “Ever since what?”

  “Ever since you got that envelope in the mail,” she says, her gaze moving down to my chest, at my late father’s wedding band. “Ever since you put your late father’s wedding band on a chain around your neck and hardly ever take it off.” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “Oh, I’ve seen you put it away sometimes because you know it upsets me, but it doesn’t change things. He’s dead, Bidzii. I wish you’d understand that.”

  “It’s the only thing I have that belonged to him.” The words leave my mouth through clenched teeth.

  “Yet it goes against everything we believe in,” she says softly. “That’s why his ghost never leaves you. That’s why you always want to go out there, to prove yourself to the world that you’re as good as he was.”

  “Because he was and like it or not, his blood runs through me,” I say quietly. “Does that go against everything you believe in, too?”

  “No, because you’re still a Diné no matter what,” Noelle says. “You know our ways, you’ve lived our ways. Yet the day you got his wedding band… the day you let it hang on that chain right above your heart, you invited his ghost in and you’ve been conflicted ever since. Even your mother and your stepfather say so.”

  Suddenly I’m back at Noelle’s apartment, the world no longer spinning for something told me there was more she wanted to say. There was more to the ultimatum she’d just given me.

  Before you give me your answer, there is one more thing, Bidzii–

  I’m not taking it off, Haseya. I’m not getting rid of it.

  Not even for me?

  It’s the only thing I have of my father. And whether you like it or not, I’m still his son, I’d said, fighting back the panic, the memory of the last time my stepfather tried to wrestle the chain from my neck when I came home with it the first time. That would be the last time Ray would lay his hand on me, the day I fought back and almost killed him.

  You’ll always be his son, Bidzii, but you don’t have to wear his ring to know that, she’d said. Your heart already knows. Besides, he’s dead.

  I still can’t, Haseya. I’m sorry.

  The school bell rings and I’m suddenly back in the present, my hand wrapped around my father’s wedding band, as if protecting it. At eighteen, my finger wasn’t big enough to fit the ring but now, it fits perfectly. He was my height, maybe a bit taller, with jet black hair and a thick beard, his eyes a combination of blue and gray. He was young and ambitious and during the six years he was with my mother, he gave her the world. They traveled all over Europe and kissed in full view of the Eiffel Tower. He gave her flowers every week, sunflowers, being her favorite. He even serenaded her and she’d turn beet red and beg him to stop. But he’d keep going anyway. All this I’d never have known if I hadn’t received that envelope containing my trust fund information, his pictures and the ring. And thanks to my Aunt Melody telling me the stories my mother never did, he came alive in my mind.

  Only to the Navajo, he was a ghost that no longer belonged in this world. And in many ways, I was one touched by one as well. Wasn’t that why Mother and I went through days and days of ceremony to rid us of his ghost after he died, me especially?

  It’s something we never talk about but I’d been in the car with him when the drunk driver hit us and we careened off the embankment. They wouldn’t find us for another six hours when someone finally noticed the tire tracks and spotted the car below. By then, Dad was dead and I was stuck in my car seat, unable to get out. I don’t remember much, but to my mother, I’d been touched by the dead, even if it was my own father.

  Noelle hurries back to the gate and punches the code to unlock it. It buzzes loudly.

  “I thought maybe you’d changed your mind, that you’d finally understand…” As Noelle looks at me just before walking through the gate, her eyes are no longer pleading. I see sadness instead, even pity. “Goodbye, Bidzii.”

  “Goodbye, Haseya.”

  She knows where I stand… where I’ll always stand, and not even her final ultimatum will change that. One foot in and one foot out. Always straddling two worlds when I could easily choose just one.

  But I’m not going to make that choice—not today, not tomorrow—not if it means letting go of the only thing my father ever owned that’s now mine. Too bad the mere act of wearing a dead man’s ring goes against everything Noelle and my family believe in.

  I get in my truck and pull out my phone. There’s a message from Sarah but I set it aside to read later. I need to take care of a few things first.

  Everyone needs to know this chapter in my life is over even if it means learning that Benny Turner is a man who goes back on his word.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The moment Melina approves my request for days off, I email my updated schedule to Dad. I’ll still be working tonight but the next five days I’ll be off so I can meet with the lawyers. It all depends on Dad, of course, but I find out three hours later when his email arrives.

  Lionel is making this case a top priority for his firm. You should be receiving an email from them shortly informing you of what you’ll need to take along with you to the meetings. It won’t be a smooth ride, Sarah, but I can stay with you the entire time if you want.

  I’ve also enclosed your flight schedule. The charter will be taking off from Santa Fe. Email me if you have any questions.

  I text Benny and tell him about my travel plans, where I’m going and who I’m meeting with. I figure he’d at least want to learn that I’m moving forward. I’m fighting back. I wait for a few minutes for a reply but nothing comes. Tossing the phone on the bed, I tell myself he’s working. He’ll get back to me later. But the moment my phone vibrates, I grab it and check my messages.

  I’ll be out of range for a few days. Will reply as soon as I get a signal. If this is an emergency, call the office.

  I tell myself not to worry, that Benny’s being Benny. Back at UNM, being out of cell phone range usually meant he was visiting family on the reservation. It meant a weekend not seeing him. I survived then, didn’t I, even though we were just friends then? He’s living his life just as I’m living mine.

  Still, a part of me worries. Is he having regrets?

  True to Dad’s word, the email from Chambers, Maynard & Lipman arrives an hour later detailing everything I need to bring with me. After a quick shower, I spend the next two hours gathering all the evidence I’d collected since I broke up with Ryan. Copies of text messages, emails, and even recordings of his voice messages, first when he was trying to reconcile and later, when he realized I wasn’t coming back. The change in his voice and demeanor had been chilling then. From a man in love to a man scorned. By then, I’d filed a restraining order against him after I found him waiting for me by my car at work. Shortly after that, the pictures would surface online and the hospital would let me go because the photos and online postings violated the morality clause of my hiring agreement. I didn’t even fight it. How could I? My colleagues could barely look me in the eye after that. To them, I’d become the sex-starved woman they saw in pictures online, tied up, gagged and according to the accompanying text t
hat included my phone number, begging for more.

  As much as I hate to play back the tapes, I also include the voicemail messages from strangers who’d found my “listing” online detailing all the things they wanted to do to me. I remember having to buy an old answering machine that still used audio tapes just so I could have some sort of record. And sure enough, I do, their voices sending chills up and down my spine as I fast forward the tape until the end. How many of these tapes did I end up filling up before I gave up and canceled the auto-forwarding of all calls and handed my cell phone to Dad?

  With trembling fingers, I open a folder containing printouts of the posts with my naked pictures along with my “message” asking for anyone interested in a good time followed by my phone number. I remember when Ryan took the pictures and within seconds, I find myself back there, feeling helpless as he promised me the pictures were only for us. For him. He simply couldn’t get enough of the sight of me so submissive, so helpless.

  I break into a cold sweat, willing myself to return to the present. There’s no way I can go back there alone. I take one last look and close the folder, stuffing it along with a disk drive and all the cassette tapes into my carry-on luggage.

  Dad is right. This isn’t going to be easy.

  Chapter Sixteen

  After letting the office know that I’ll be taking the rest of the day off to take care of personal stuff, I stop by my apartment to grab a change of clothes and four five-gallon water jugs before making the two-hour drive to the family homestead.

  Even though the water lady comes by every two weeks to fill up every water container my mother can find in the house as well as the troughs for the sheep, with six people living on the property, there’s never enough water to go around. While one person uses about 80 to 100 gallons per day living in places where water is just a twist of the tap away, on the reservation it’s a different story. Everyone in the house has to make do with about seven to ten gallons per day and that includes water to cook, bathe, and drink.

  I got used to it growing up but it can’t be like this forever. If I hadn’t bought the townhouse last year, I’d have been able to have a 1,200 gallon cistern installed that’ll be powered by the solar panels.

  On the way, I stop by the supermarket and pick up a few things that I know Mom can use—Bluebird flour and Crisco for the fry bread she makes every day and coffee for my grandfather. I pick up other things, too, since I’m already at the store. Toothpaste, soap, shampoo, deodorant, and for my grandmother, a bag of sunflower seeds.

  I arrive at my childhood home two hours later to find four of my nephews and nieces watching TV in the living room while my mother is in the kitchen. They’re my cousins’ kids who live on the same homestead, their trailer visible in the distance. Ever since I installed two solar panels that power up the appliances and the big-screen TV, my nephews and nieces hang out at the house more, turning my mother into their unofficial babysitter. But she doesn’t mind. She loves the company and whenever she’s in town, she buys DVDs that entertain them for hours. I do, too. I even bought a video game console for my twin brothers even though they can’t play those online multiplayer games that are getting popular. But they have enough games on CDs to last them a long time.

  Petite with long dark hair that she arranges in the Navajo traditional hair bun and wearing a red shirt over a pair of jeans, my mother’s face brightens when she sees me. “What are you doing here? I thought you were coming in this weekend,” she says, enveloping me in a long hug.

  “I have to travel to DC tomorrow with some guys in the office. Last minute trip.”

  “You and your travelin’, Bidzee,” she says, shaking her head. “I hope you meet some senators.”

  “I doubt it. Probably interns.” I close my eyes, inhaling the aroma of something delicious wafting from the stove. “You’re cooking ach’éé?”

  Sizzling in a pan, she’s frying short lengths of sheep intestines wrapped around stomach fat, a Navajo delicacy that isn’t exactly the best for me but I love it. I wash my hands in the sink and grab a piece before Mother can shoo me away. I bite down on the crunchy layer, the juices hitting my taste buds like an explosion of flavors.

  “Your brothers wanted me to make it for them so they’d have it after school,” she replies, wagging the ladle at me. “I know it’s your favorite, too, so don’t eat it all.”

  As the kids come over to say hello, I see my sister through the curtains making her way toward the house from the sheep pen.

  “What’s Marge doing here?”

  “She had to get some things she left behind for her apartment and ended up helping your grandfather with the sheep pen,” Mother replies as she hands the kids mini-versions of fry bread to take with them to the living room where a SpongeBob DVD is playing on the screen. “She’ll be staying the night.”

  “That’s good. I wouldn’t want her driving at night,” I say. “Ray at work?”

  Mother nods. “You know he is, Bidzii. I know you two don’t get along but I hope you’re staying for dinner. It’s quite late already as it is.”

  “I’ll take the couch,” I say as my sister enters the house through the back door.

  “Benny!” She shrieks before running into my arms. Eight years younger, she’s a carbon copy of my mother. Her long hair is tied in a pony tail and she’s wearing an AC/DC t-shirt under her checkered shirt, jeans, and work boots.

  “Do you even know what AC/DC is?” I ask, releasing her as I eye her shirt.

  “Of course, I do. I stole all your rock CDs but you never noticed because you were too busy studying for your next big degree.”

  I roll my eyes. “Yeah, right. Guess who’s studying for her big degree?”

  Marjorie blushes. “It’s only a Bachelors, Benny. Look at you! You’ve got a Doctorate! Which reminds me, I should be calling you doc, right?”

  “No, you better not.” I pinch her chin playfully. “But don’t knock your Bachelors. It’s still a degree, and a damn good one at that.”

  Thanks to my father’s trust fund, I’ve been able to help Marjorie with her college education. Even though she doesn’t have to pay college tuition as a Native American, I cover the rest of her bills like her apartment and utilities so she can focus on her studies. With Ray spending every extra dime he makes on booze, covering Marjorie’s expenses is also my big fuck you to all the years Ray beat the crap out of me, showing him that despite being the so-called demon living under his roof, I can do something he can’t do.

  “Do you have stuff in the back of the truck?” Marjorie asks and I nod.

  “Just water and some groceries.”

  “Let me help you bring them in.” She follows me outside to my truck where I hand her the bags of groceries.

  After a few more pieces of ach’éé until Mother shoos me out of the kitchen, Marjorie and I spend the next two hours repairing sheep fences, chopping firewood, checking the solar panels, and anything else that needs fixing while we’re both here. Tahoma and Tsela arrive home and help out, too, and even the kids up until my cousin arrives in her old SUV to pick them up.

  I save the task of helping Granddad tidy up the hogan for last, enjoying the time he and I get to talk in private while everyone else joins my mother inside the main house.

  Growing up, Granddad was the one who taught me the ways of the Diné. He’d wake me up at four in the morning and together with Grandma, we’d chant a morning meditation song while facing the sunrise with an offering of yellow cornmeal. At sunset, he taught me to offer white cornmeal. Every day he’d tell me stories about the Holy People, about Mother Earth and Father Sky, and about the Coyote. Sometimes Grandma would do string games to go with the stories, too, something that Marjorie enjoyed learning to do on her own.

  But these days, we talk of grown-up things, about the state of the land and the air, about the contamination of the rivers with radioactive waste, and that of the air and the land, too, with uranium waste from the closed uranium mines, and how uranium ma
de the water I grew up drinking taste sweeter than water I’d drink outside of the reservation. Little things that now remind me just how different I am from people like Sarah with her old moneyed father and privileged mother, daughter of a well-known potter.

  Twenty minutes later, the kitchen table fixed and the screws on the chairs tightened, Granddad and I head to the main house for dinner. The sight of my stepfather sitting at the table takes me by surprise but I don’t show it. I knew this was coming.

  “Hey, Benny,” he says, rocking back on his chair as I walk in. “Nice of you to join us natives for dinner.”

  At the table, I do my best to enjoy the dinner of mutton stew and fry bread, aware that Ray is watching me closely. He looks amused to see me at the table, as if he can’t believe his luck to find me under his roof again since I usually only come by on the weekends when he’s passed out drunk somewhere else.

  My siblings do their best to lighten the atmosphere. While Tahoma and Tsela talk about their latest video game, Marjorie tells us about taking her roommates to the Navajo Nation Fair where they got to watch the dancers and the crowning of that year’s Miss Navajo Fair.

  “Remember when you first danced at the fair, Benny?” Ray asks, the smirk still present on his face. “Didn’t you partner with Noelle then? You with your red shirt and your brand new moccasins, looking all native. You even had a feathered cap.” He chuckles, his hands above his head mimicking feathers. “That was cute.”

  “Stop it, Ray,” Mother says.

  “Stop what? I’m only trying to make conversation,” Ray says. “Can’t a man make conversation in his own home? It is my home, too, right? I mean, I paid the bills before Benny here started paying for things like that nice TV and pretty expensive solar panels.”

  “He’s only helping out, Ray,” Mother says.

  “Noelle was Miss Navajo Nation Fair one year, wasn’t she?” Ray asks, ignoring her. “I still remember you flying in from wherever you were studying for your college degree then. Florida or something. Man, she was so happy the girl was glowing. Completely in love with Benny here.”