Heartbeat Braves

by Pamela Sanderson

  “You know a lot about this,” Henry said.

  “I know about event planning,” Rayanne said.

  “So I’ve heard,” Henry said. “I guess I should talk with them and figure out what we want to do.”

  When they arrived back at the office, Rayanne said, “Thanks for helping me find a new spot. You do the menu planning and I’ll get the agenda together. We can meet again and figure out how to put the meeting materials together. Sound good?”

  They stayed in the van, sitting next to each other like it was the end of a date. A strange vibe bloomed between them. Rayanne was aware of each breath he took and a coil of heat unwound inside her.

  “We could work on it now,” Henry said.

  “Thanks,” Rayanne said. She gathered her things, wanting to get away. “Day is done. I have a bunch of other stuff to do before I go home.” She couldn’t miss the disappointment on his face. Without meaning to, she reached over and put a hand on his forearm. “Thanks for your help. Finding this place was great. I appreciate it.” His arm was solid and warm. She wanted to slide her hand up and squeeze his bicep. He eyed the place where she touched him and she warmed-up right where you would expect. She avoided his eyes and snatched her hand back. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  6

  Linda tried to help Margie up the front steps, but the elder reached for the railing and pulled herself up to the front door, one precarious step at a time. She opened the front door and stepped inside. Linda braced herself for what was coming.

  “Where are my rugs?”

  Linda followed her inside. “We had to move them.”

  “But I love those rugs,” Margie said, her voice weak and trembling.

  “I know,” Linda said. “I love them too. But the fringed edges are too easy to trip over. You break your hip and that’s it. You’re off to assisted living.” Margie’s face was pale and her thin, gray hair needed styling. How long could Margie stay in this house like she wanted to?

  “I could be very careful,” Margie said. She shuffled along with her cane to demonstrate. Her feet scuffed along the floor as she walked.

  “You could,” Linda said, “but I would be more comfortable if you could live without them. I worry about you.” Linda found that if Margie thought she was being bossed around, she would argue. If Linda appealed to her common sense, she might get somewhere. “Have you thought more about the medical alert system?” Linda may as well have asked Margie if she’d thought about growing a horn on her head.

  Margie brushed the question away. “I got a little sick and I’m a little worn down. I’m not going to fall down and become helpless.”

  A little sick. That’s what she called pneumonia. She’d been feverish and couldn’t communicate for days. The doctor had warned them her condition was serious but she bounced back. At least if Margie was crotchety, it meant she was on the mend.

  “Merely a suggestion,” Linda said.

  “You know what you can do with that suggestion.”

  Rayanne arrived and charged through the front door. “Good news! I have a place for the retreat.” She went over and gave Margie a hug. “You look great, Auntie. Are you feeling better?”

  “This one is taking away my rugs,” Margie said.

  “We’re trying to keep you in one piece,” Rayanne said. “When you can do a cartwheel, we’ll bring your rugs back.”

  Margie made a face and shuffled out of the room.

  Linda gestured at Rayanne. What more can we do?

  Rayanne gave a weak laugh, quiet so Margie wouldn’t hear.

  “Tell me about the retreat location,” Linda said.

  “It’s great. It’s called Milk Creek Farm. There’s a little meeting house surrounded by trees with a view of a pond. A handful of picnic tables. Some walking paths.”

  “Good work,” Linda said. “How did you manage that?”

  “Henry,” Rayanne said, like she was sorry to admit it. “He gets one point so far.”

  There was a crash in the kitchen. “I broke a little cup,” Margie called. “Don’t run in here.”

  “This is depressing,” Rayanne said quietly. “No matter how smart or kick-ass you are. No matter how many times you speak before Congress or save treaty rights, you end up all old and feeble. You know it was a major revelation for me, when I sat in a room full of old people, and realized that at one time, they were all young and hot and trying to get into each other’s pants.”

  “We still sometimes get into each other’s pants,” Margie said, making her way back into the room, one creaky step at a time. Her new cane had padded feet at the base, keeping her moving.

  “I don’t know if I like the images popping into my head,” Rayanne said.

  “Why not? Never too old to have fun,” Margie said. “I could teach you a thing or two.”

  Linda made a joke of covering her ears to block out Margie’s bragging, but really she was thrilled with her sass.

  Margie stopped and leaned against a chair to catch her breath. She pointed to the handle of her cane. The tassels were strings of shells and beads. “My granddaughter made it for me. She called it my bling.”

  “No one ever said you weren’t fancy,” Rayanne said.

  Linda found it hard to reconcile this breathless woman with the powerhouse she had met ten years earlier.

  “Could one of you girls bring me a cup of tea?” Margie asked.

  “Always,” Rayanne said, and went to the kitchen.

  Margie sat down. She pointed to her wall of books. “One day you girls are going to get all of these.”

  Linda loved these books. Margie collected books about tribal history, culture and art. She had a shelf of mythology books. She had poems and memoirs. How many rainy afternoons had Linda visited Margie, and ended up sprawled out on the couch flipping through her books?

  “What are we going to do with them?” Linda said.

  “Create a library at the center.”

  Linda could picture it. There would be one room devoted to the books. They’d fill it with comfortable chairs and couches. They’d put a big study table where people could do research. They could look for grants to get it organized. Maybe they could even find a librarian who could help them put it together.

  “What a generous gift,” Linda said.

  Margie waved off the comment. “What am I going to do with them?”

  “Thank you. When we get to the new building, we’ll find a special place for them.”

  Rayanne returned with the tea, and set it on the little table next to Margie.

  Margie peeked into the cup. The corners of her mouth turned down. “Did you put honey in it?”

  “I can put honey in it if you want,” Rayanne said.

  Margie shook her head. “I can drink it like this.”

  Rayanne made a face at Linda. “Later I’m making a dinner that will no doubt be a terrible disappointment. You joining us?”

  “Don’t be smart,” Margie said with a small smile.

  “Can’t make it tonight,” Linda said. “I gotta go meet with Arnie.”

  “Oh, really,” Rayanne said.

  “For work or for fun?” Margie asked.

  “Both of you stop,” Linda said. “We are friends and now colleagues. That’s it. And if things continue like they’re going, he’s going to have to fire me. That’s not the basis for a great date.”

  “I’ve always thought you two would make a good match,” Margie said. “You don’t feel a little sparkle? You have a lot in common.”

  “Yeah,” Rayanne said. “Sparkle. I see it too. You like an Indian in a suit.”

  Linda forced a laugh. “I have known him forever. We are not dating.”

  “It’s okay to change your mind,” Margie said.

  “Just because people are unattached, doesn’t mean they should be together. We are friends.”

  That’s how all the great romances begin,” Margie said.

  “Yeah, maybe all this working together and you’ll change
your mind,” Rayanne said.

  “Why are you after me? You’ve been making lovey eyes at Henry since he walked through the door.”

  “I can’t lie,” Rayanne agreed. “He is fine on the eyeballs. He’s also ruining my job. But I’m dealing, as I was instructed.”

  “Good. These guys don’t get what we do. Arnie wants to charge in, make changes, and boss everyone around. We need him to do what we want him to do, and we need to make him think it’s his idea.”

  “You understand everything I’ve taught you,” Margie said with a smile. “It’s official. You don’t need me any longer.”

  “Yes, we do,” Linda and Rayanne called out together.

  “You’re going to tell him to keep his hands off the festival,” Rayanne said.

  “Sweetie, you need him on your side.” Margie spoke with her eyes closed, her head propped up on her hand. “You need to woo the board into continuing to support your plans. You need them if you want the center to exist.”

  “I will do everything I can to make sure he understands us. I’ll try to keep Henry out of your hair.” Linda got up and put a wool blanket over Margie. She smiled but didn’t open her eyes.

  Linda followed Rayanne to the kitchen. “Thanks for making Margie dinner. Is she going to be part of your rotation?”

  Rayanne nodded. “Good luck with Arnie. Maybe if you two had a thing it would help our cause.”

  “He doesn’t see me like that. Things might work better for the center if we both keep our pants on.”

  “That won’t be a problem,” Rayanne said.

  Linda headed out to meet Arnie. It was strange to think of them working together again after all this time. They’d always kept in touch but he was back and forth to the rez and traveled around the region to government meetings. They’d barely seen each other in years. She might have been happier about it except her job was on the line.

  When they first met in college, she’d been smitten. She didn’t meet a lot of Indian men, and the ones she did meet did not appeal the way Arnie did. He was so single-minded on leading in Indian Country. He wanted to go back to the rez, and make a difference for his own people. He was handsome. A little shorter than she would prefer but, as Rayanne pointed out, he looked damn fine in a suit.

  He also made clear his lack of interest in her. Arnie enjoyed dating a wide variety of women. But not women like her. He learned to play the exotic boy from rez to his great advantage. He always had pretty girls lined up after him.

  Time to stop thinking about that. She had a job to do and he was the boss.

  7

  Arnie spotted her before she came through the door. Time hadn’t just been kind to her, time had been magical for her. In college she’d always been so serious, striding around campus with her single braid and a giant backpack. Now she was long legs and graceful motion. Her dark hair curled around her shoulders.

  If he were asked to summarize her back then, he would have described her as a woman of too many ideas and too little direction. Somehow there was always a piece missing. She would have a great idea but they should have been working on it six months earlier. She wanted the Native Students Association to host a treaty rights conference but she couldn’t convince any of the Native Studies professors to sponsor them in time. She was always on the short end of a crisis, either searching for her coat or chasing after a lost phone. But she was also a loyal friend and made time for him whenever he needed to talk to someone who reminded him of home.

  She was the perfect person for this job but she was having such a hard time with it. She was brilliant with whatever budget she could get. She found great people and brought them together. Why weren’t they fulfilling any of their goals?

  Arnie stood when she approached the table. She wore jeans and a T-shirt smudged with dust.

  “What did you do, clean out a barn?”

  “That would have been more fun,” Linda said, leaning over for a hug. “Helping Margie stay independent as long as she can. No more rugs. Did you know that’s one of the top injury hazards for elders?”

  “I never thought about it,” Arnie said. “How is she doing?”

  “Moving slowly, but she’s tough. She’s not going to go down easy.”

  “Good.” Arnie pointed at the chalkboard menu. “Do you want me to grab something?”

  “Decaf, sugar and milk. Thanks.”

  When he returned, she was paging through the folder of notes he had put together for their discussion.

  “This the dossier you’ve compiled on me?” Her tone was lighthearted.

  “Something like that,” Arnie said. He set down the coffee and two cookies.

  “How did you know I needed this?” Linda said. She broke one of the cookies in half, and ate it in three bites. She took a swig of coffee and sighed. “I’m having a hard time with everything. Part of it is about Margie. Losing her as a colleague but also watching her slow down and give up this work she loves. But that’s not all. I’m fretting about the future of the center and this building we’re getting into. What do you think? Is there hope? Are you going to have to axe me? You can be straight.”

  The woman had not changed on the inside. She worked hard to the point of destroying her ability to do things well. She was the person who stayed up for two days to study for an important exam, and then was so sleepy she could barely finish. She was always the first one to arrive and the last one to leave at every demonstration. Then she would have to write a ten page paper in one frenzied sitting.

  “I am straight with you. Hope isn’t the issue. There’s always hope. The issue is making things work. Everyone wants to see the UIC succeed but no one wants to keep throwing money at something that’s not working.”

  “What’s not working?” Linda said. She circled the stirrer around the cup a few times. “The retreat foul up was all my fault. The deadline got past me. But the delays on the building purchase are outside my control. We had a structural inspection. Then an environmental review. We’ve met every deadline. We’ve done everything they asked us to do. Once we get that piece taken care of, everything else will slip into place. Replace me if you have to, but my mistakes are more about trying to do too much, and not about being a complete idiot.”

  “No one wants to replace you.”

  “But you aren’t denying thoughts that I’m a complete idiot.”

  “We haven’t used those exact words.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  She searched his eyes like she was expecting to find something there. She’d always had a direct gaze that would disrupt his train of thought if he weren’t careful.

  “The way the board views it...” What was the best way to put it?

  “Are you differentiating your opinion from the board’s?”

  “I’m not the only person making decisions. We have to report to the tribes funding you. Those tribes are asking about actual on-the-ground services. What they see is planning for services more than providing services.”

  Linda sighed with frustration. “I don’t know what to say if that’s what they think. We’re working toward more services. I think they underestimate our value. Am I doomed?”

  “No one is doomed,” Arnie said, failing to laugh it off. “A year ago Margie convinced the tribes she needed another year. What’s happened since then? Not a lot.”

  “You sound like a government official. You want to know why we don’t do more, and you don’t want to give us enough money. You can’t have it both ways.”

  Arnie nodded. “I am a government official. That’s what we do. We’ll go over all the numbers at the retreat, then we’ll have a better idea of the big picture.”

  “There’s one piece of good news. Rayanne found a place for the retreat, thanks to your nephew. Didn’t take long to sneak one of your relatives on the staff. Is he there to check up on us?”

  “Henry’s a good kid. Can’t you use the help?”

  “I’m sure he is but why not make Rayanne a project manager and let Henry an
swer the phone? I don’t need a person without experience. I need a grant writer. I need a fundraiser. I need the ability to offer services. Like how about making sure our elders can vote? With the new laws, some of them don’t have whiteman birth certificates. They need help navigating the system. We could do basic medical care instead of referrals. That’s what we need to be talking about. How am I supposed to pay him?”

  Arnie cleared his throat. He wasn’t sure how Linda was going to take this bit. “I have a small fund that can be used to keep him on staff for now.”

  “Ah, you have a fund for your nephew,” Linda said. “Of course you do. Do I even want to hear the story?” A burst of temper flashed in her eyes. “Does he have a juvenile record? A little drug dealing? Petty theft?”

  “Of course not,” Arnie said. “He’s a perfectly good kid.”

  “You already said that. Fess up. What’s going on with him?”

  Arnie took a moment to figure out what to say. “He’s a little lost. My sister wants me to help. I’m trying to keep her off my back.”

  “I could threaten to be the worse one on your back but since you’re my boss, I’ll cooperate.”

  “He doesn’t want to do it anyway. Maybe he’ll give up and move on. I can say I fulfilled my familial duty.”

  “Terrific. An underachiever who might not even last. Here, ladies, do your best. When was the last time someone expected a room full of competent men to fix some halfwit female?”

  “He’s not a halfwit. Look at this a different way. You have the opportunity to inspire another young Native to our cause.” Arnie was trying to be funny but she wasn’t buying it.

  “Why does he have to be in charge of something?”

  “He’s not going to do it if the job is answering email and stapling documents,” Arnie said. He should never have brought Henry in but now it was done. They’d have to deal with it.

  “Do you hear what you’re saying? We don’t just have to take on the reluctant apprentice, we have to make it fun for him?”

  “He has the job,” Arnie said. “Can you please tolerate him for now? Can I at least hold out hope that he’ll appreciate the role models and maybe it will rub off on him? I’ve always admired your stubborn persistence, that’s why I like you in this job. I guess we have to focus on getting the small things right.”