“I’ll check with Cookie. Where are we gonna stay?” A squeal invaded her throat.
“A hotel, like everyone else who comes down from the rez to spend the weekend in the city.” Jude grinned.
If the family asked, she’d say she was picking up supplies for the campaign. “I’ll do my best with Cookie.”
“Thank you.” Jude leaned in. His lips brushed hers.
Raven’s heart bordered on bursting.
The diner door swung open. Clayton banged his big boots on the welcome mat. He hefted up to the counter.
The joy filling Raven’s chest vanished. She’d been ready to dance across the floor after Cookie gave her the okay to take Friday afternoon and Saturday off.
“What’ve you got for me to look at?” Clayton turned over his coffee mug.
“What do you mean?” She filled his cup.
“For the campaign. I need to review and approve your strategy.”
“Nominations were only on Monday night. It’s Wednesday morning.” How fast was Raven supposed to work with a busy schedule?
“We can start this weekend.” Clayton fixed his coffee.
“This weekend?” Not a chance. “I already made plans.”
“Plans? What plans?” Clayton frowned. He set aside his spoon, staring at her. “All you do is work, hit your recovery meetings, and go to school.”
“I’m going to the city.”
“The city? We need to get started on the campaign.” Clayton banged his finger on the counter.
“I already bought my ticket. It’s too late.” Big deal, she’d lied. She wasn’t passing up an opportunity to spend a weekend alone with Jude, in a real bed instead of the back of a truck like some prostitute.
Clayton’s narrowed eyes narrowed even further. “What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” Was he questioning how she’d stood up for herself instead of kowtowing to him? She was thirty-one. And very grateful for his help when nobody else had helped her, but this didn’t give him the right to butt into her life.
“You’ve been acting a little off. The other night when I mentioned the Matawapits, you didn’t slam them like you always do.” Clayton hunkered over his coffee, still studying her.
She couldn’t care less about the church after meeting Jude.
A ball formed in Raven’s stomach. This wasn’t good. Her damned coochie was responsible for tossing aside the staunch convictions she’d clung to after coming home.
* * * *
Jude sat back in his office chair. He held a cup of coffee in one hand and a pen in the other while Darryl continued to divulge his platform for the campaign.
“Basil’s participation is a must. I consulted him last night. We both did.” Darryl motioned at Emery who sat in the other chair. “He has to be a big part of the campaign. I want him to open every speech I give with a prayer.”
“So that’s what you’re concentrating on? Culture?” Jude had spent too much time in Western society. He had to remind himself First Nations communities operated differently. Yes, they thought about economic bases, infrastructure, health care, recreation, jobs, and everything else that drove townships and cities, but their culture and spirituality were most important to them.
“Willie did a great job. He had a good team to help him, but the division’s still present. The children need options. They need more than recreation, schooling, and a chance to express themselves creatively. They need to remember who they are.”
Another of Darryl’s strategies—the youth.
“Who takes our place after we leave here? The children. We’ve got a great base. Anishinaabemowin is taught in school. Elders provide oral stories. But we must bring the youth back to where we belong. Out there.” Darryl pointed to the bush. “I went out there when I was thirteen. Basil prepared me. How many other kids do this? How many know how to dress a moose? How many know how to trap? What about the girls? I know Raven tried to help them through the Traditionalists Society before the Kabatays upped and left.”
Something fluttered in Jude’s stomach. Her name always made him tingle now. “Kids want to be kids. They’re into hip-hop, fashion, video games—”
“That can be incorporated into what we teach them. Why can’t they rap about the old stories and teachings? Why can’t they play music that’s an expression of us as a people? What about developing a traditional game in the computer lab? There’s nothing stopping the girls from mixing the fashion of their heritage with what’s in for kids today.” Darryl reached for his coffee on the desk.
Jude’s brother-in-law was every inch the traditionalist—jet-black hair knotted into two braids, bone choker necklace, deer hide vest with his clan decorated into a multi-colored beaded pattern on the left breast. Mukluks.
“What about the reserve?” Jude had better remind Darryl about other important issues. “More are going on dialysis—”
“That comes from what we eat. If we go back to tradition, this wouldn’t be happening. Yeah, some of its strong in the bloodline. I have diabetes. And I manage it through proper eating. Exercise. Putting the kids outdoors where they belong will bring them pride in their roots.”
Jude glanced at Emery. “How do you feel?”
Emery cleared his throat. “When one’s settled inside”—he pointed at his chest—”they’re then nourished emotionally, mentally, and physically. I’m with Darryl on this. Spirituality is important. This is an Ojibway community. Participation of the adults is crucial because they influence the children. I see it all the time. When adults don’t set a proper example, the kids suffer.”
Ouch. That had hit too close to home. Jude nibbled on the top of his pen. “Okay. Let me try to draft something over the weekend. We’ll concentrate our efforts on returning to our roots. Let me try to figure out how to market it.”
“The vehicle is there.” Darryl pointed outside. “I finished the self-governance project eight months ago. If the Crown says this is sovereign land, then we should be sovereign. But we can’t until our own people begin practicing their own ways.”
Not this argument again. Jude removed the pen from his mouth. “What about those who are in twelve-step programs? Or those practicing another faith, such as Catholicism?”
Darryl grinned slyly. “Your brother’s Catholic. I have the utmost respect for the faith he practices.”
“I see.” Jude uncrossed his legs and sat forward.
“The practice of other faiths is important. As one council member said, we must provide support or the resources to nourish all spirituality for members of Ottertail Lake,” Darryl added.
“This means you’ll continue to support the parish financially?”
“If we have the means.” Darryl pursed his lips. “We’re currently operating in a deficit ‘cause we don’t have a set of funds allocated for covering the church’s hydro bill. I’m going to meet with the band manager later this week to see what’s available in one of the budgets.”
Emery again cleared his throat. “It’s a legitimate concern. Operating to budget is imperative. We don’t want to see mismanaged funds during the audit.”
“I wouldn’t call it mismanagement. More along the lines of proper allocation. I’m an administrator myself. I’m always juggling budgets.” The funds for the school were Jude’s biggest concern, since dollars came from the feds and not the province, which meant the bare necessities. “The schools are operating in the red. Dad did his best, but he didn’t have a money tree erected out back.”
Darryl chuckled. “Education’s a big concern. And what I’ll address. We must work with other First Nations communities, though. One band isn’t going to fare well in Ottawa. As a collective, we can make changes.”
“Okay, that’s what we can use for another speech.” Jude typed the concerns under the education column he’d devised for the campaign spreadsheet.
“How many speeches am I giving?” Darryl leaned forward and peered at the laptop screen.
“There’ll be one for the elementary-aged kids. Another for the high schoolers. And the last for those enrolled in adult education and distant ed. programs. I know you wanted to tackle non-voters, too.”
“Excellent.”
“I’ll be in the city this weekend, so I’ll gather whatever I can for the speeches. Promo material.”
“This is starting to sound like a federal election.” Darryl snickered. “Am I gonna have to slag my opponents?”
Jude couldn’t stop the smile. “No. It goes against the Seven Grandfathers teachings. What about the adults? Are we going to break them down into demographics?”
“I think we’ll have to. Let’s start with age groups. Older youth from eighteen to twenty-nine. Thirty to fifty. Fifty-one to sixty-four. And sixty-five plus. Each’ll have different concerns to address. The same goes for employed and unemployed. Men and women. Mothers. Single parents. Families. Carla will have that list.”
“Carla’s the band secretary, right?”
“Yep.”
“What about you?” Jude looked up at Emery.
“I don’t have a platform. I don’t even know why Sadie nominated me. I never gave politics a second thought.” Emery angled his leg and set his foot on his knee.
Not everyone campaigned during elections on reserves. Some simply threw their name in the hat and let the people decide. “I think you should try to find one.”
“I’ll try, but I didn’t intend on running. I would’ve declined the nomination if Darryl hadn’t told me I’d be insulting Sadie and Basil.”
“Do what you do best—consult God about what your platform is.”
Emery’s mouth fell open.
“I’m not being sarcastic.” Jude stifled his laugh, or he’d upset his brother. “I’m serious. You pray every day for direction and guidance. Pray about this. Talk to Dad. Or Father Bennie. Darryl consulted Basil. I’m sure he also prayed about it.”
Darryl nodded.
“I’ll get the demographics from Carla. Meanwhile, you two spend the weekend going over more of your platforms.” Jude finished typing on the laptop. “We’ll do coffee once I get back.”
“Back?” Emery’s slim brow arched.
Heat saturated Jude’s face. “Yes, err, I said I’m going into the city this weekend... to... ah... visit Bridget and Adam.”
Emery cast Jude a knowing look.
Chapter Sixteen: Me and You
Raven cuddled up beside Jude in the taxi. True, they were only in Thunder Bay, but with the elation consuming her while they held hands, she swore Jude had taken her to New York City for a romantic weekend getaway.
The cab driver turned into the hotel parking lot that was on the main drag of Arthur Street. They’d flown in just after six.
Raven checked her phone, since it had reset itself to Eastern Standard Time. “What are we gonna do first?”
“How about dinner in the hotel dining room? We can go out shopping tomorrow.” Jude smiled at her. “And do the major shopping on Sunday. I need to stock up on perishables.”
“Okay. Sounds good.”
Their cab pulled up under the brick canopy at the front of the hotel. While Jude dug through his wallet, the driver vacated the vehicle. Raven also stepped from the taxi. She clutched her purse and laptop case. Well, not her laptop. Clayton had loaned her his older model to use for the campaign. She needed to get on the ball and buy one of her own.
Jude paid the driver and clasped the handle of his rolling suitcase. He slung her duffel bag strap over his shoulder.
Raven’s face heated. Her luggage was hardly designer style. Not even a cheap suitcase. She could imagine Jude’s traveling baggage was first class.
They really were from two different worlds, although both were Anishinaabe and had lived in cities. If Jude had resided in Winnipeg, he wouldn’t have lived in Lord Selkirk Park.
“Let’s go.” Jude motioned at the double doors.
They headed inside to a wooden plank-style floor in patterns of browns, and a high dome-shaped-style ceiling made of cedar. The brick exterior carried inside to the walls. There were comfortable sofas and chairs to sit on. Even an eating bar-style table was available.
Jude strode up to the check-in desk. Raven sat on one of the chairs. People wandered back and forth, some emerging from the coffee shop. Others purchased coffee at an in-house Coffee Coffee where an Anishinaabe-kwe stood behind the counter. This brought comfort to Raven. At least the hotel hired Indigenous people.
“Ready?” Jude stood beside her. His fingers gripped the handle of the wheeled suitcase he’d attached his laptop case to. He leaned down and retrieved her duffel bag. “We’re on the ground floor. I got us a spit-level room.”
“Split level?”
“Yeah. I got us one so you can vape. C’mon.”
His thoughtfulness almost melted Raven’s insides.
They walked to their ground-floor room. The rest of the hotel was designed the same as the lobby. Giddiness continued to tickle Raven’s stomach. Even the carpet leading to the rooms was a plush shade of brown.
Jude stopped in front of room one-twenty-six and swiped the key card.
“After you.” He held open the door.
Raven peeked inside. A queen-size bed. Her chest expanded with joy. Split-level was right. since the living area was sunken and had sliding doors leading outside to a courtyard. Relaxing tones of beige and off-white wrapped Raven in coziness. Not high class or anything, but rich in comfort. Welcoming.
“Nice. Very nice.” She stepped down the two stairs to the living area.
“It’s a great hotel. I’ve attended meetings here, but I’ve never been in the rooms.”
“Meetings with the Catholic School Board?” Raven set her laptop case and purse on the glass coffee table.
“Yeah.” Jude placed their luggage on the luggage rack. His phone dinged. “I hope the kids aren’t already sending me messages. Whenever they text, it’s complaining. They have to get used to being at their mom’s on weekends.”
He checked his phone, and his eyes rounded. “It’s my sister. She’s, geez, she’s waiting at the airport for me.”
“Bridget?” Raven scooted up the two steps.
“Mom told her I was coming to the city for the weekend. Bridget must’ve assumed I was coming to visit her.”
Raven clicked her nails together. “What’re you gonna tell her?”
“That I came into the city to get groceries.” Jude tapped away on the phone’s screen.
Hopefully Bridget bought the lie. Raven sat on the edge of the bed.
Jude swiped at his hair. “There’s no way I’m gonna get out of this. She wants me to come over for dinner. I told her I’m busy tonight. Curling and going for beers with friends. She’s insisting I come over tomorrow night.”
He sank on the bed beside Raven. “You musta figured out by now my family’s very close.”
“I understand.” So much for a nice private getaway. She’d sit alone in the hotel room while he went for dinner.
Jude patted her thigh. He wet his lips. “Emery knows.”
“Yeah, he does.” Curiosity pricked the back of Raven’s neck. What was he hinting at?
“You feel up to dinner with Adam and Bridget?”
He was inviting her? Seriously? But...”She doesn’t like me.”
“Doesn’t like you?” Jude frowned. “I don’t think you two have formally met. At least not that I know of.”
“We met. During Healing the Spirit.” Something bristly surfaced on Raven’s skin.
“When your family was protesting outside?”
Raven had no reason to feel smaller than a mouse. She was a Kabatay and proud of her family. Sure, Mom was a total bitter bitch, but she was Raven’s mother. “I recognized Adam. When he came outside for a smoke during the break, I approached him at the cemetery to talk.”
“Adam introduced the two of you?”
&nbs
p; “Uh, not exactly. Adam and I talked alone. Bridget and I met after Adam went inside. I was still at the fence finishing my cigarette. We... talked.”
Jude snickered. “I would’ve wisely disappeared inside if you two were lacing up the boxing gloves.”
“What makes you think we fought?” Raven held her nose high. “We were polite.”
“I know my sister. And I’m getting to know you. Neither of you are the type to back down. Bridget’s a big believer in Healing the Spirit. She booked her holidays to volunteer at the workshop. And your family was there to protest. Even Harry and Lloyd from Dumb and Dumber coulda figured out you two were beating on each other with your eyes.”
“Okay. I might have been a little... defensive.”
“Defensive?” Jude stood. He kept grinning. “You got in a few sideways barbs. Huh?”
“I believed in the protest.” Raven also stood. “Reconciling with religious institutions is wrong.”
Jude’s smile faded. “Maybe we should talk about something else?”
Raven folded her arms. “You’re right. Let’s unpack.”
“Gotcha.” He winked.
Raven opened her duffel bag. She removed the small packet where she kept her smudge bowl, cedar, and tobacco. Morning prayer to Creator was important and a big part of her recovery. She’d also brought her daily meditation books, and her recovery book, since she’d miss that night’s meeting. But some reading before bed might help her feel as if she’d attended one.
“Hey, do you need to hit a meeting? I brought work with me in case you have to.” He pointed at his laptop.
“I’ll be fine.” Her heart pretty much exploded into a bazillion little hearts. Such respect he showed for her recovery. She motioned at the books.
“Y’know, I admire your spirituality.” Jude’s palms held her arms tenderly. Even his gaze was tender. “It’s a beautiful thing.”
“I do, too.” That came out wrong. “I mean, I like how you pray, too. I’ve never dated a guy who believes in a higher power. Are you... will you go to church on Sunday?” For some reason she started shivering.
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