Sweetheart Braves

by Pamela Sanderson

  He turned Ester's heater so the warm air blew toward her.

  Elizabeth wore an identical poncho. "It's gruesome out there." She let Tommy take the two backpacks she carried, and when she met his eyes, his heart stuttered with a complicated reaction that he'd forgotten he was capable of. She grinned at him for a long moment before peeling her poncho off.

  He moved in slow motion, carefully laying out paper towels and setting the dripping backpacks down. Every time he snuck a look, her dark brown eyes were already on him. His breath caught in his chest. He was so unnerved by the intensity of his reaction. Rayanne never missed anything so he became self-conscious of his movements, trying to remain casual as he rejoined them, inching as close to Elizabeth as he dared, his blood humming in his ears.

  Elizabeth shook out her damp hair and gave him a smile that was half sweetness, half danger. She wore snug jeans and a purple fleece pullover with yellow flowers so bright they probably glowed in the dark. He wanted to say something but he'd lost the ability to speak. While the rest of them traded getting-to-know-you small talk, he adopted a posture of casual interest as if he were hanging around only to be polite. But his eyes never strayed too far from Linda's cousin, all the shame and misery of the morning forgotten as long as he was in her orbit.

  Linda's cousin and auntie had arrived.

  Oh. Oops.

  The realization was like a splash of freezing water. On top of everything else, he'd forgotten to tell Linda that sexy voice and a dotty aunt were coming to visit.

  "What a surprise," Linda said.

  6

  Elizabeth had expected a more enthusiastic greeting. Besides Linda, there were two other women about her age and the too-cool-for-raingear guy who had directed them to the longhouse. He looked to be around the same age, too. The rain had left him damp and disheveled although on him it was kind-of cute. She kept expecting him to say something but he stood close by, silent and attentive. Every time she looked over, his puppy-dog eyes darted away. When they'd walked through the door, he had the shell-shocked expression of a man in the middle of the worst day of his life. The entire group looked like they could use a vacation.

  "Something bad going on?" Elizabeth asked.

  "No worse than usual," Linda said, looking around the room as if seeing it for the first time herself. "What in the world are you doing here?"

  "Long story," Elizabeth said.

  "Will law enforcement be involved?" Linda laughed. She got up and dug around a box until she found what she was looking for. She tossed over a towel. Elizabeth patted her face dry and handed it to Granny.

  Elizabeth's gaze kept drifting back to the guy. He suddenly crossed the room and fiddled with something out of sight in the corner. "What kind of cane does Auntie use?" he asked, his voice low and warm.

  "Kind?" Elizabeth repeated.

  "Like a walking stick?" He lifted an expandable walking stick with a looped strap at the top. "I've also got your more traditional cane." He waved a light wood stick with a curved handle. He shifted his attention to Granny. "Do you like one with a grip handle? Or did yours have the little feet at the bottom?"

  Elizabeth would have been charmed if it weren’t so weird. "Why do you have so many canes?”

  "I've always had an interest in mobility devices," he said, giving her a half-smile.

  Granny finished drying her face. "Little feet," she said.

  "Yours didn't have little feet," Elizabeth said.

  Granny gave her a sharp look.

  "I only have one, so you don't get to pick the color." He brought over a shiny silver cane and adjusted the height. Elizabeth could only stare in amazement.

  "I like it," Granny said, using it to stand up. She went to hug Linda. "Miss you, girl. You in charge of all this?"

  Granny had asked the question Elizabeth wanted to ask but couldn't figure out how to without sounding disappointed. Back home everyone talked like Linda was saving the world for Indians. But the so-called urban Indian center was more storage room than office. Tall stacks of boxes lined the walls. Clusters of mismatched desks and tables were pushed together for their workstations. A chair with a broken wheel had been pushed to one side. There was apparently a diverse supply of canes in the corner.

  "Amazing, isn't it?" Linda said with fake enthusiasm. She had a weary smile and slumped shoulders like she never slept or heard good news. "What are you doing in town?"

  "We came looking for my dance dress," Granny said.

  "Family regalia," Elizabeth said, pulling up the photo on her phone. She passed it to Linda, who showed the others.

  "Where is it?" Linda asked.

  "A historical research center? I have the address."

  "I bet that's over at the university. Should be interesting," Linda said, handing the phone back. "Who are you staying with?"

  Granny pointed at Elizabeth. "This one was supposed to call you."

  Elizabeth would have explained that she had called, but the miserable guy managed to look even more pitiful. He had to be the one she'd left the message with. She cleared her throat. "We were hoping to stay with you."

  "I would have insisted anyway," Linda said with unconvincing enthusiasm.

  One of the women on the staff came over and took Granny's hand. "I'm Rayanne. I'm Karuk. That's Ester, and that's Tommy. We're Linda's crack team of urban warriors."

  Linda laughed at that.

  "I like it," Granny said.

  Tommy forced a smile and did a funny little wave. His eyes, dark brown and ridiculously expressive—both sweet and mournful, flicked to the ground and then back at her. It was hard to resist the urge to find a blanket to put around his shoulders and shove a hot cup of cocoa into his hands.

  "You're all Natives?" Elizabeth asked.

  "That's the idea," Linda said.

  "I've never seen so many Ind'ns outside the rez except maybe the student group at school," Elizabeth said.

  "You should come to one of our events," Rayanne said.

  From looking around, it wasn't clear what kind of events she was talking about. Tall stacks of books and files covered their desks. Every workstation had a computer. Linda had a pile of documents in front of her, notes flagged throughout. Elizabeth tried to envision doing a project that involved that much effort.

  "Dorothy and her husband, Leo, were big-time activists," Rayanne told them. "I wrote about her for one of my school papers."

  It was always weird to hear people talking about Granny like she was a study project.

  "When are we getting something to eat?" Granny said.

  "Sorry," Elizabeth said, surprised the elder had waited this long to complain again. "We came from the train station. Took longer than expected to find you."

  "I can grab you something," Tommy said. He pulled a chair next to Granny. "What are you up for? A sandwich? A burrito? Kung pao chicken?"

  Elizabeth was accustomed to dealing with Granny's picky eating habits. "She usually likes—"

  "Tell me about the chicken," Granny said, doing what Elizabeth called her elder cute-face. Granny could charm a charging elk herd.

  "Chicken, vegetables, lots of flavors but not spicy. You'll like it," he said.

  Elizabeth said, "I don't think—"

  Tommy gave her a half-smile that said he had it under control. "You want something?" He turned the full blast of his handsome face to her. He had cheekbones for miles, and his dark hair was shaggy and almost to his shoulders. He was like the guys at home, except different. Not all self-satisfied BS. Something mysterious she wanted to unravel.

  "I'll go with you," Elizabeth said, suddenly self-conscious that everyone knew what she had on her mind.

  "It's drier in here," he said.

  Elizabeth pulled her poncho back on. "I'm used to the rain."

  "Tommy?" Linda said, her voice hard. "The minute you get back here you have problems to solve."

  "Always," he agreed. He held the door open for Elizabeth and ushered her back into the rain.

  "What
kind of problems?" she asked when they got outside.

  "I don't know where to start." He headed across the open green but the rain had left a wide patch of mud, so he changed course. He pointed to a concrete path. "Student center is this way."

  "That was a cute bit with the canes," she said.

  "Elders leave them on the bus all the time," he said, as if that explained it.

  "Rain isn't as bad as it was earlier," she said, "and we can move faster without Granny."

  "Elders can move fast if they want to. You ever lose one in the grocery store?"

  "I lose that one at the casino."

  "I can picture that." He was older than she thought when they first walked in. There was a weariness around his eyes. "How come you didn't tell Linda you called yesterday?"

  "You look like you're having a bad day."

  "And here I thought I was hiding it so well," he said without humor.

  The path through campus was jammed with students and bikes. Elizabeth had gone to a smaller school, but the feeling was the same. She experienced a brief pang of memory, always homesick and longing to be back home with the familiar views of trees, river, and ocean.

  "You from upriver?" she asked.

  "From where?”

  "Upriver? Rayanne said she was Karuk."

  "No." He tilted his head, and they turned down a different path that led to a crosswalk. They stopped and waited for the light.

  "This is a weird campus," Elizabeth said, "in the middle of the city. Where I went was more self-contained."

  Tommy nodded and remained silent. The light changed and they crossed. A group of bicycles came up and around them, not regular students but like a team in training. They had matching helmets, with bright-colored jerseys and fingerless gloves. The group shot down the path and disappeared.

  Tommy said, "I am from upriver but not what you meant. I grew up around Klamath Falls."

  "You're Klamath?"

  He nodded.

  "I've never been up there," Elizabeth said, now trying to picture Tommy traipsing through his homeland.

  "You're not missing much," he said. "This is the student center."

  It looked as expected, a big box of a building with rows of bikes parked out front. Inside, the main entry had high ceilings and huge light fixtures, like the courtyard of a mall. A variety of couches lined one wall and a cluster of lunch tables filled another corner. A chorus of loud voices echoed throughout the room.

  "This way," Tommy said with a gentle tap on her shoulder.

  "I wasn't expecting this," she said, attempting to stay close to his side.

  "You went to a small school?"

  "It didn't seem like it while I was there," she said.

  When they got to the food court, he showed her the different vendors. "That place has good pizza and there are perfectly respectable deli sandwiches there. That place has a salad bar if that's your thing." He went to the Chinese food counter and got in line.

  She wasn't ready to venture too far by herself, so she followed him. "I'm a rez girl. I don't eat salad."

  Tommy laughed. "That's what Linda says." He got two orders of kung pao chicken and they took it back to the office.

  The minute they hit the door, Linda handed Tommy a square of white paper and he made a grim face and then took his cellphone and went outside.

  Granny dug into the chicken. Linda came to sit with them.

  "We've got a Native professionals mixer thing tonight," Linda said. "I don't have to stay long, but I need to show my face for a few minutes."

  Elizabeth grimaced, but Granny sat up. "I want to go to that."

  "You won't know anyone," Elizabeth said, filled with dread at the thought of standing around a crowded room making small talk with strangers.

  "I can't meet them if I go home," Granny said.

  "It's not that bad," Linda said. "You already have something in common with most of them."

  Tommy returned. "She said we can email the statement and she'll try to sneak it in as if we'd attended."

  Linda sighed. "Close enough."

  "You going to that mixer thing tonight?" Elizabeth asked him.

  "Of course," he said. "Wouldn't miss it."

  Behind him, Rayanne made a strange hiccup and covered her mouth. Linda stared at him with her mouth open but didn't comment.

  "I guess we could go," Elizabeth said. "Do you need a nap first?"

  Granny nodded.

  "You can use my car, I'll take the bus home." Linda picked up her keys from her desk and held them out.

  A chilly buzz traveled down her spine. The sound of the keys and the thought of all the cars and the bikes in the parking lot and around campus brought up terrible memories. She didn't reach for them.

  "I'll put the address in your phone. It's easy to find," Linda said.

  "She don't drive," Granny said. "She don't like it."

  "Oh," Linda said, "I know what's going on. I forgot about that."

  Elizabeth was happy to skip the explanation. "Tell us where to go. We can take the bus."

  "Don't be ridiculous," Linda said. "It's too much walking."

  "I can take them," Tommy said.

  The words spilled out without thinking. As soon as he’d said it, his mind flashed to Angie, at home by herself. If he drove them around and went to the mixer, she'd be alone all evening. But Elizabeth's smile was like the first warm day after a long winter, and that sunny expression managed to distract him from his growing collection of catastrophes. Besides, it was Linda's family. Angie could handle a few hours by herself.

  Linda held the keys back to her chest.

  "This is the part of this job I excel at," Tommy reminded her.

  Linda nodded in agreement. "Okay, but use your car. No need to haul my family around in that creaky bus. I'll give you money for gas."

  His car. No need to confess that problem right now.

  "But I love the Drivemaster," he said.

  Linda sighed. "They're tribal members. They're family. Please take good care of them. Aunt Dotty is a national treasure."

  "The bus conforms with all state and federal safety standards," Tommy said. "It's comfortable, the environmental controls are in fair-to-good working condition, and I am happy to report that after a good airing out, it barely smells like hot dogs inside."

  "That's quite a recommendation," Linda said. "I trust you on this."

  He told Elizabeth where the access road was and then brought the bus around to pick them up, his mood buoyed at the thought of spending the afternoon with her.

  He set Granny in one seat and Elizabeth took the spot behind him and leaned forward so they could talk.

  When they got going, he said, "You don't like to drive?"

  She shook her head. "Makes me anxious."

  "Really? I relax driving. I can give you some tips if you want."

  Elizabeth studied the dashboard as if seeing one for the first time. "I don't need any tips. What exactly do you do for Linda?"

  There was no way to make driving elders and organizing basketball sound vital. "You know, this and that," he said.

  "You like working for her?"

  "I like all of them. Linda tries to do too many things but she's insanely dedicated. Rayanne is so focused and wants to learn everything. Ester is super clever at problem-solving."

  Elizabeth leaned close like there was a vacuum cleaner running and she needed the proximity to maintain the conversation. His attention was divided between the road and her presence, the sexy edge to her voice, the sweep of her hair at his elbow, the way she paused after he responded, as if everything he said required her careful consideration.

  "Linda any good at this?" she asked.

  "She's great." He almost added that she saved his life, but that would demand explanations he needed to avoid.

  "I thought there would be more to it," Elizabeth said. "Urban Indian center. It sounds like a hub of activity. People coming and going. Instead, it's you guys in a room. You could be doing anyt
hing. What exactly do you guys do?"

  It was a good question but the explanation complex. "We've had setbacks, so a lot of what we're doing now is preparation. We still coordinate health appointments and do after-school activities for kids. Rayanne brings meals to elders. Ester collects health data. Linda does lots of talks so we can get more funding. It takes time to develop programs."

  "How much time? Hasn't Linda been working there for years?"

  Granny cleared her throat. "Why you pick on Linda?"

  Tommy shot a quick look over his shoulder. "Yeah. You were in there for ten minutes and you're an expert on our accomplishments? Linda works night and day and helps so many people, and she's always trying to do more."

  "Guess that came out wrong. Sorry. It's just that when we were younger, she was always Miss Career-Focused and acted all mature like she knew what she was doing. First, college, and then moving up here being involved in all this." Elizabeth swept her hand in a circle.

  "It's good what she did," Granny said. "I'm proud of her."

  On the freeway, traffic backed up and slowed to a crawl.

  "This is what I don't like," Elizabeth said.

  "Traffic?"

  "That, and it feels like everyone is angry and wants me to get out of their way. At home, there's no traffic but it still feels like something bad is going to happen."

  "When I get worked up, I get in the car and drive. Usually, I head out of town, but sometimes I cruise around the surface streets. I'm having some trouble with my car and I can't wait to get it back. Some people have an emotional support animal. I have an emotional support vehicle."

  "You're serious," Elizabeth said.

  "I am."

  "That's crazy."

  Even though she sat behind him, he could sense her every movement. She leaned toward him, close, almost touching when she asked a question, and she kept an eye on Granny. He knew he was supposed to do more to carry on the conversation, but he had trouble forming coherent thoughts.

  She leaned forward again, this time brushing his arm. "Why was Linda mad at you?"

  He cleared his throat. "Not sure she's finished being mad at me." He could see part of Elizabeth's face in the rearview mirror, her eyes on him like there was something more interesting to look at than there was. She wasn't shy about being in his space. "What about you? What's waiting for you when you get back to the rez?"