Redeemed

by Maggie Blackbird

  Mrs. Dale sniffed. “Consider Kyle placed under the emergency care of Jude Matawapit until further notice. I will call your brother right now.” She yanked up the phone. “Dismissed.”

  A deafening roar exploded in Bridget’s ears. She clamped the desk to steady her jittering knees. “I’m going to see my son.”

  Adam shifted forward, but Bridget laid her hand over his. “Remember, I sit on the board of the Indigenous Women’s Alliance.” Her voice shook, but something resembling strength hardened her spine. “When the remaining directors hear what’s happened, they’ll not take kindly to what you’re doing. We fought hard to ensure the safety of our own children. Children and Family Services has more than proven they failed because another child died in your care—Sheena Keesha.

  “You’ll grant me and Adam the right to see Kyle before we leave so he can hear from his mother and father what’s happening. And this organization will also answer for Sheena’s death—a sixteen-year-old girl.”

  Bridget stared at Adam. “Let’s go see Kyle.”

  Chapter Thirty-four: Out of the Sun

  Bridget yanked on Adam’s hand, hauling over two-hundred pounds of solid muscle from the chair.

  Mrs. Dale barreled around the desk. “Mr. Guimond, you are allowed one hour of supervised visits per week. Kindly have a seat. You are not allowed to accompany Ms. Matawapit to the family room.”

  “This isn’t about visiting.” Just as Bridget set one foot forward, it was her turn to be yanked backward. She gaped at Adam.

  “S’okay.” His eyes were reassuring, but the tension in his hand over Bridget’s said otherwise. “You go talk to our boy. Go on. I’m fine.”

  Even though Bridget’s palm itched to smack Mrs. Dale, she wouldn’t. She was Anishinaabe-kwe, and she’d conduct herself as one. Chin raised, shoulders back, and stomach drawn in, Bridget forced her shaky legs from the office and wobbled to the end of the hall where Kyle waited behind the closed door.

  Adam was right. If they panicked and started shouting and hollering, they’d upset Kyle. Having to tell him he’d be leaving with his Uncle Jude was bad enough. Bridget must make this a peaceful separation full of hope, although her hope dragged the ground with her curled heart.

  She placed her shaking hand on the knob and opened the door.

  Kyle sat at the small table, coloring. A social worker sat beside him. He rose and dashed over. “Mom! Mom! What’s going on?”

  A lump burned at the back of Bridget’s throat. She forced a swallow, a smile, and a pleasant, “Don’t panic. We had to meet with Mrs. Dale. That’s all.”

  “Okay. Can we go now?” Trust filled his big eyes.

  Bridget motioned at the chairs by the pop cooler. “We need to talk first.”

  “Talk?” Kyle peered.

  “Yes. Talk.” She took his hand and led him to the chair. Please, God, don’t let him react the way he did when Adam told Kyle he was attending Healing the Spirit.

  “Remember those rules we talked about?” Bridget patted his hand.

  Kyle nodded. He kept peering at her fingers on his.

  Bridget licked her lips. As much as she wanted to blame Mrs. Dale, the nasty witch was only doing her job. And Bridget couldn’t teach Kyle to resent or hate someone for following rules laid out by the Ministry of Children, Community, and Social Services, although Mrs. Dale didn’t have to do what she did over a harmless drive to and from a church.

  “The people at this building want you to stay at Uncle Jude’s for the time being—”

  “Mom!” Kyle jumped from the chair, panic whitening his dark-brown skin and draining the color from his rose lips.

  “Easy... easy...” She wrapped him in her embrace, petting his prickly hair. “It’s only for a short time. There’s stuff your dad and I must do, so Mrs. Dale recommended you stay at Uncle Jude’s for the time being.”

  “No.” Kyle squirmed. “No, Mom. I’m not going. I’m staying with you. Tell her. Tell Mrs. Dale we gotta be together.”

  The begging in his little voice was a slashing knife across Bridget’s stomach. She touched his face, hot from his fear. “Remember I told you we must do what God wants? And we must trust He’ll make things right if we follow His wishes?”

  Kyle trembled, big eyes glassy, but he nodded.

  “I don’t want us to be apart either, and I’ll be there to settle you in. I’ll be there for breakfast every day. I’ll be there after work to hear about how you did at school. Then I’ll go see Dad for a bit. We don’t want him to get lonely without us. Once I drop Dad off for his meeting, I’ll come back and make sure you have your bath and read to you before you go to sleep.”

  “You’ll... You’ll... You’ll come to church, too?” Tears slipped from Kyle’s watery eyes and ran down his round cheeks.

  Something sharp seemed to dig into Bridget’s heart. She gripped his fingers. “Yes. We’ll go to The Bistro after. I’ll be at Uncle Jude’s all weekend. For breakfast. For lunch. The only time I won’t be there is when I have to work and you’re in school.”

  “And sleep...” Kyle’s voice shook.

  “I’ll be sleeping over Saturday night.”

  “You... You will?” The moisture in Kyle’s eyes faded.

  “Yes. I will. Saturday night is our night. We’ll order in pizza. I’ll stay in your room.”

  “M-M-Mom?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why is Mrs. Dale doing this?” Kyle’s voice cracked, and his shoulders drooped. “I thought she liked you? I thought she liked me.”

  Like? The bitchy caseworker now hated Bridget for daring to fight for her rights. Her son’s rights. And Adam’s rights. “I told you. She has rules to follow. But your dad, Uncle Emery, and I are going to be doing stuff to help others, and this is why you have to stay at Uncle Jude’s. We’re going to meet tomorrow night. That’s the only night I’ll be away.”

  “Uncle Emery?”

  “Yes. He’s going to help us. That’s why he’s here.”

  “And this important thing is tomorrow?”

  “Yes. I’ll be at IWA.” She didn’t need to explain the acronym since Kyle was used to hearing about her meetings at IWA or at the church if the CWA met.

  “But... but I’ll see you in the morning, right?”

  “Of course. I’ll be there in the morning. Then I’ll go to work. Then I’ll get your dad for the meeting.”

  “What about Dad? Are they going to take him away from me?” Fear resurfaced on Kyle’s face.

  “No, honey. You’ll still see him every Wednesday for your visits like you always do.” She pointed at the table. “Let’s go color and wait for Uncle Jude. Mrs. Dale called him from her office.”

  For a half an hour, Bridget colored with Kyle while she answered his numerous questions in a calm voice. He stayed between her legs, and she hugged his waist, watching him use the various crayons to shade in his favorite heroes.

  When the door opened, Kyle melted into Bridget’s chest, quivering. His shakes stopped at his uncles filling the room.

  “Uncle Jude. Uncle Emery.” His little voice rose higher. He ran over to them.

  Both kept grinning, having entered smiling.

  Relief seeped across Bridget’s spine that her brothers had come through for her, refusing to show their animosity or confusion for Kyle’s benefit. She closed the coloring books and put away the crayons.

  While Emery kept Kyle occupied, Jude sidled over.

  “What’s going on? Mrs. Dale called.” He stared at Emery and Kyle.

  “She didn’t tell you anything over the phone?” Bridget said under her breath. She steered them toward the pop cooler.

  “She explained you lost care of Kyle and that I was listed as emergency care.” Jude leaned against the pop cooler. His pitch-black brows hunched over his pitch-black eyes. “What’s she up to? Does this have to do with the memorial service?”

  Bridget nodded. “Mrs. Dale found out I drove Adam there and back. She knew Kyle was with us. She said I violated
the guidelines. So she’s putting him with you until we straighten this out.”

  There wasn’t anything to straighten out. Mrs. Dale had made her decision. All Bridget could do was appeal. Hopefully, Emery could provide more answers.

  “This isn’t the place to talk. Let’s get Kyle to my place,” Jude said in Dad’s take-charge tone. “I just have to sign some paperwork and see Mrs. Dale. Adam’s downstairs in the reception area.”

  “He is? Then let’s get moving. Emery can drive Adam home.”

  * * * *

  Adam sat in one of the uncomfortable gray plastic chairs in the reception area. He’d watched Jude and Emery enter fifteen minutes ago, shocked enough at the sight of him they’d stopped for a moment, and then they’d hurried upstairs.

  The elevator dinged. Bridget, Kyle, Jude, and Emery trooped out with Mrs. Dale and the other social worker trailing them.

  “Dad! Dad!” Kyle cried out.

  Bridget leaned down, saying something into his ear.

  Emery made a beeline for Adam.

  Jude led Kyle and Bridget to the door.

  “You’re coming with me.” Emery held Bridget’s beaded key chain. “I have to finish packing a few of Kyle’s belongings. I only packed enough for tonight. Bridget wants to get Kyle settled at Jude’s.”

  “Sure.” Adam stood. As the father and lover, he should’ve done something for his son and woman to prevent this from happening. Instead, he was stuck sitting in a chair while the government ripped apart his family. This was his fault. His boozing, his fighting, and his incarceration had thrown the two people he loved most into a nightmare.

  Adam followed Emery to the parking lot. He lit a cigarette and stole a few quick drags to calm his racing blood. They reached the truck. Adam flicked the smoke aside and got in.

  “Mrs. Dale called Jude.” Emery started the engine. They drove off. “She explained she had to make use of his emergency care and to come retrieve Kyle.”

  Adam squeezed his toes. He dug his fingers into the console.

  “I wasn’t present when Jude and Mrs. Dale met in her office. Confidentiality, she told me. So I stayed in the family room. Bridget told me they took away her care because you were in Kyle’s presence without someone from Children and Family Services, and that she knowingly violated the guidelines.”

  “It’s a load of crap,” Adam muttered. He stared straight ahead at the traffic in front of them.

  “I’m sure Jude’ll get the rest from Bridget. He wasn’t too happy about this.”

  Adam stiffened. “What? He doesn’t wanna—”

  “He has no problem caring for Kyle. He wants to help. I tried to tell him he was assuming the worst when we drove over here.” Although Emery’s voice was firm, his naturally soft-spoken tone lacked authority, more along the lines of firm enough to remind someone to keep their emotions in check.

  “The worst? What’d you mean?” Adam knew what Emery meant. “He thinks I did something to cause this, hey?”

  “I told him you wouldn’t have.” Emery stared straight ahead since they were heading for the condo. “Try remember how close he and Bridget are. When Mom and Dad moved back to the reserve, they only had each other. Mom and Dad wanted them to come to the rez, but their lives are here. They begged to stay at my aunt and uncle’s since they were almost finished with high school. They’re a year apart. They had the same group of friends. They’re like fraternal twins.”

  “I get it.” Adam glanced around at the various houses they passed. “No offense taken. I used to shoot first and ask questions later, too.”

  “You don’t anymore?” Emery glanced at Adam and then back at the road.

  “You see me shooting anyone?”

  Emery chuckled. Pink flecked his cheeks. “No.”

  “The program taught me not to. Saved me a lot of grief. Y’know what assuming leads to.”

  Emery cracked a light smile. “My dad taught me that. Don’t assume, because it makes an ass out of you and me.”

  At least the joke lifted the weight off Adam’s chest that had sat on him like a steel building for the last two hours. “He was acting like... Jude... I guess.”

  “Jude’s Jude. He’s fine.” Emery turned into the condominium parking lot. “Like I said, Bridget’ll explain everything to him. He won’t be running around the city, trying to shoot you.”

  Adam only half snickered, because grief continued to eat at him.

  They got out. He followed Emery to the main door.

  The intercom was to Adam’s left. His knees twitched at the button bearing the first letter of Bridget’s given name, followed by her surname spelled out in full. The last time he was here, he’d stood outside, drunk off his ass, pressing the buzzer, begging Bridget for his son, begging for a second chance, begging for understanding, begging for mercy.

  Bridget had told him to go away before she called the police and had also threatened to contact Children and Family Services because he hadn’t cared for his son properly if he didn’t leave immediately. He’d stumbled off into the night, having no ride since he’d taken a cab to get to the condo. His drunken ass had led him to the bus depot where he’d spent the night on the bench. The following morning, he’d left for Winnipeg.

  Adam curled his fingers and rested his palm against the button. He squeezed his eyes shut. Fucking stupid. Fucking pathetic. He deserved The Hawk’s wrath.

  “Are you coming?”

  Adam blinked and whipped his gaze to Emery, who held open the main door, having unlocked it already. “Uh, yeah.”

  “No use blaming yourself. What’s done is done.” Emery headed for the elevator.

  Adam glanced about. The lobby had been repainted to a fresh olive.

  They got inside and rode up, Adam squeezing his toes. Too many memories.

  “Are you okay?” The door opened. Emery got out.

  “Uh... yeah.” Adam swallowed. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he made the walk to Bridget’s condo. Almost four years when he’d last been inside her crib.

  Emery unlocked the door.

  Adam inched inside. She’d bought new furniture. Fancy. Very modern. Some kind of suede material, from where he stood. She even had a new dining set. The contemporary kind with a rich wood table and high-back upholstered chairs for comfortable eating, meant to linger over a meal.

  She still preferred carpet over the fancy hardwood floors everyone seemed to install nowadays.

  He followed Emery to the small hallway to their left that led into the room where Kyle used to stay when they’d previously spent the night. Adam’s heart warmed at the bunk beds, shelves of toys, a small activity desk, and chest of drawers. Everywhere he looked, Z Men covered the walls, the bed spreads, the curtains.

  A warm fire built in his chest. He leaned his hand on the doorframe. “I bet he loves this room.” One of those fancy rolling suitcases sat in the corner. “That yours?”

  “Yes.” Emery opened the chest of drawers. “I sleep on the lower bunk. Kyle prefers the upper bunk.”

  Shit, Kyle was claustrophobic. There was still much for Adam to learn about his boy.

  “We’ll pack as much clothes as we can, but I think Bridget wants to go through everything later tonight. She said to get enough stuff until Friday.”

  “Yep. Gotcha.” Adam opened the closet where Kyle’s small jeans, small jackets, small shoes, small long-sleeved shirts hung. “What about his school stuff?”

  “It’s in the back of the truck. Bridget brought him for his visit straight from school.”

  “Oh yeah, she would.” Adam fingered the shirt. He drew the garment beneath his nose, sniffing. Very clean. As innocent and as clean as Kyle.

  “I know I fucked up bad—”

  “Don’t do this to yourself,” Emery said quietly. He shut the dresser drawer. “Everyone makes mistakes. What matters is you’re doing something to change, to...”

  “Redeem myself?” Adam slumped alongside the wall and folded his arms.

  “Yes.
” Emery nodded, his voice still soft and quiet. “Bridget’s forgiven you. Kyle’s forgiven you. But what’s most important is have you forgiven yourself?”

  Adam’s throat thickened. Good question. He had a lot to think about.

  * * * *

  Bridget led Kyle to the spare room he used for sleepovers. It was upstairs. The other bedroom Mom and Dad used was downstairs with an en suite. But Kyle preferred to be where Noah and Rebekah bunked.

  Jude was in the family room, explaining to his children what was going on.

  “Mom...” Kyle stopped walking.

  “Honey, you stayed over here lots of times. You can do this.” Bridget used an urging tone, one with a smile in it. “Show me what a big boy you are.”

  “Oh... okay.” Kyle crept forward. “Where’s Dad and Uncle Emery?”

  “They’re at home, getting more stuff for you to last until the weekend. I’ll bring over some other stuff on Saturday morning.” Bridget opened the door. “You’re with family. Remember, Uncle Jude and Aunt Charlene love you very much.”

  Putting on a brave front was exhausting Bridget, when all she longed to do was nurse her wounded heart and cry. But that wasn’t possible right now. She’d have time later to finally let the tears flow.

  “Here we go.” She patted the bed. “I’ll get your things unpacked.”

  The suitcase that Jude had brought up right away from his truck sat by the dresser. Bridget petted Kyle’s prickly hair. Leaving him here was a punch to the face, forceps reaching inside and wrenching out her heart.

  Chapter Thirty-five: See Me Burning

  Adam sat on the sofa. A shivering and shaking Bridget sat beside him. She’d cried in the back of the truck all the way to the condo while he’d held her and Emery drove. She’d cried all the way up to the condo. And she was still crying, tears running from her eyes.