Thankful for Love

by Peggy Bird

  Amanda said, “I sent them upstairs with ours already. They should be in pjs with their teeth brushed and reading. Or making a mess up there instead of down here. I’ll go get them settled. You should take care of getting Quanna home.”

  “I have my car. I don’t need a lift,” Quanna said.

  “But it’s dark and looks like it’s about to rain. You should have someone follow you home to make sure you don’t have a problem on the road.”

  Sam said, “That doesn’t make sense. Why should both of them drive all the way into Pendleton?”

  Amanda stared at her husband. “Hush, Sam. I imagine your brother agrees with me, don’t you, Jack?”

  He grinned. “Yup. I absolutely do.”

  “Really, Jack, it’s not necessary,” Quanna said. “You have your family here. You don’t need to ...” Apparently the expression on Amanda’s face and Jack’s grin registered. “Oh, I see.”

  “Good. Then get your things collected,” Jack said. “You must be tired after all your hard work. I bet you can hardly wait to get into bed.”

  He may have been the only one who heard his brother say, “That makes two people in the room anxious for the pretty nanny to get into bed.”

  Jack ignored the comment. He merely said, “I’ll go tell the boys what I’m doing, and then we’ll hit the road.”

  • • •

  “It’s getting late. I don’t want you to leave, but hadn’t you better start back to the ranch?” Quanna had tried not to notice the clock, but the glowing numerals couldn’t be avoided any longer.

  “I don’t want to leave, but I guess I have to.” He sat up on the edge of the futon. “Before I go, is this a better time to ask about meeting your family?”

  She sat up beside him, twisting the edge of the sheet in her hands. “This is as good a time as any, I guess. It’s kind of a problem, introducing you to my family. Do you remember my telling you about what happened to my brother?”

  “You mean his wife leaving him and their kids.”

  “Yes. She hated living on the reservation.” She finally looked at Jack. “She’s white. She moved back to someplace in the Puget Sound where she had relatives.”

  “You think it’ll bother me in the same way? Is that what’s worrying you?”

  “No, I’m sure you’ll be fine. It’s my mom. She doesn’t trust white people much because of what happened ... well, and a few other things over the years.”

  “So, all this about how my family would feel about you is what ... a reflection of the problems your brother had?”

  “No, this is in addition to his experience. But since we’ve outed ourselves to your family, I guess we should do the same with mine. I don’t know how my mother will react. She might even refuse to meet you.”

  Jack put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into an embrace. “But she married someone who wasn’t Indian.”

  “And it caused problems with her parents for years. Eventually, wanting to see the grandkids wore my grandmother down. But that doesn’t mean my mother will just roll over about us. She accepted my brother’s wife and got burned. I don’t know if she’ll be so accepting again.”

  “Okay, then, how do we get around it?”

  “If we talked with my brother first, he might have some ideas. Maybe he’d even help us.”

  “Then let’s set up something this coming week with him.” He stood up, and put on his boxer briefs and jeans. As he was buttoning his shirt, he said, “Your brother’s an artist, right?”

  She tied the sash on her robe. “Yes, a photographer. Why?”

  “Just refreshing my memory about him.”

  • • •

  Like hell he was refreshing his memory, Jack thought as he drove home through the fall rain. If it took winning over Quanna’s brother to get help with her mother, maybe he knew a way to do it. He hoped his sister-in-law was still awake when he got home so he could talk to her. Or he would hit her up in the morning. Either way, she could be the key to getting Quanna’s family to accept him.

  Chapter 17

  The following Wednesday, Jack and Quanna waited in the café at the Wildhorse Resort drinking coffee. At least, Jack was drinking coffee. Quanna was playing with her cup and looking around the room every few minutes wondering where her brother was.

  He finally arrived, ten minutes late. Quanna was happy to see he was dressed in a neatly ironed shirt and a pair of new-looking jeans. Even though she knew he didn’t dress in ratty clothes for work, still she’d worried about what he’d look like. She wanted him to make as good an impression on Jack as Jack’s siblings had made on her.

  “Sorry, Q. Got held up at the campgrounds with a customer. I tried calling you, but it went to voice mail.” He put his hand out to Jack. “Hi, I’m Frank Morales. And you are ...?”

  Jack took his hand. “Jack Richardson.”

  “Quanna’s boss? Is there a problem?”

  Jack glanced over at Quanna who shook her head before saying, “No, no problem. Not really. Why don’t you order coffee before we get into what I want to talk about.”

  Frank ordered coffee. Quanna asked after her niece and nephew while they waited for it to arrive. After he had a chance to drink some of it, Frank asked, “So, ready to talk about why you wanted to meet this morning, Quanna?”

  “Well,” she began.

  Jack interrupted. “Before we get to the reason we’re here, I have something I want to give you.” He dug in the pocket of his shearling coat and pulled out a business card. “This has the e-mail address of my sister-in-law, Amanda St. Clair, on it. She’s a pretty well-known glass artist. If you’ll send her images of your photographs and she likes what she sees, she’ll pass them along to a gallery owner she knows in Portland who’s looking for undiscovered artists to represent.”

  Frank looked down at the card then at his sister. “Did you put him up to this, Quanna?”

  “This is the first I’ve heard about it. I’m as surprised as you are. When did this all happen, Jack?”

  “We got talking last Sunday before she left to go back to Portland, and I mentioned Frank was a photographer with a good eye and she ...”

  “How do you know I’m good?” Frank interrupted.

  “I’ve seen your work in Quanna’s apartment. Anyway, Amanda knows how hard it is to get started in the business and likes to help new artists. She also agrees with me that this side of the state should have more of a presence in the art galleries in Portland than it does. So, she wants to take a look at your work. You interested?”

  “Interested? Of course I am. It could be a huge break.” He turned the card over and over in his fingers. “But why are you doing this?”

  “I like your work. In fact, I’d like a piece of it myself one of these days.”

  Frank looked back and forth from his sister to the man sitting next to her. Quanna could almost see the wheels turning in his head. “Is there a connection between what Quanna wants to talk about and this offer?” Quanna started to answer, but Frank waved her off. “No, wait. Let me see if I can connect the dots. You two are involved. Quanna’s trying to figure out how to break it to our mom. She wants my help. Jack thought if he did me a favor, I’d be more likely to agree. Right?”

  “Gee, I wonder why I even bothered to come along. I could have kept working while the two of you took care of everything.” Quanna wasn’t nervous anymore. She was annoyed.

  “I apologize, sweetheart,” Jack said as Frank said, “I’m sorry, Q.”

  “I don’t know who’s more annoying—Jack because you went behind my back to Amanda or Frank for not giving me a chance to explain what’s going on.”

  “You’re right. Let’s start over,” Frank said. He stood up and put his hand out to Jack. “Hi, I’m Frank Morales. And you are ...?”

  “Sit down. Don’t be absurd,” Quanna said. She waited until he was settled back in his chair before continuing. “Okay. You’re right. We’re involved. And yes, I want to introduce Jack to Mom. And,
yes, I’m looking for some advice on how to approach her.”

  Frank looked directly at Jack. “Was I also right about the reason you offered to help me get into a gallery in Portland?”

  “I didn’t think it would hurt.” He reached for Quanna’s hand, but she pulled it away. When Frank raised an eyebrow, Jack looked embarrassed. “I didn’t tell Quanna so you wouldn’t get mad at her if you were offended at what might be considered a bribe.”

  “Looks like you made the wrong Morales mad,” Frank said. “I’ll let you work it out with Quanna, but I’m not mad. I’d never turn down an offer of help. Your sister-in-law’s right. Art is a hard business. But just so you know, I’d have been willing to help my sister even without the favor.” He leaned across the table and swatted Quanna on the arm. “So if you can get over your snit about not knowing what Jack was up to, let’s figure out how you approach Mom.”

  “If some of the conversation can include me from now on, I’m fine,” Quanna said, not sure she felt fine at all.

  “Okay, baby sister. I’ll take your word for it. As for Mom, I guess the good news is she hasn’t ranted about my ex-wife, the white devil, in at least a month. Maybe she’s mellowing.”

  Jack shuddered. “It’s that bad?”

  “Yeah, but I’ll talk to her. See if I can find out what her current mood is.”

  “Do you think we should invite her to Jack’s for dinner or go to the house to see her?” Quanna asked.

  “You definitely need to go to her. Making her come to you would be a bad move. And don’t try to bribe her with flowers or candy, Jack. She hates that sort of thing, although if you brought a video for Miguel, it would be okay. Quanna’s told you about our brother, hasn’t she?” Jack nodded and he went on. “She’ll expect you to answer a bunch of questions about your relationship. Be prepared for anything. Even with people she likes, she’s blunt. Oh, and she has her heart set on Quanna graduating from college. You better be ready to tell her what you think about that.”

  “Not a problem. I completely agree.”

  “Good. She’ll approve, at least of that response.” Frank looked at his watch and finished his coffee. “Sorry to advise and run, but I gotta get back to work. We’re unusually busy for this time of the year, and I’m short staffed. I’ll talk to Mom and call you, Quanna. And, Jack, thanks for the contact with your sister-in-law. I’ll follow up on it tonight.”

  He stood and pushed his chair under the table. Looking directly at Jack, he said, “There’s one more thing, but it’s not about Mom. If you hurt my sister in any way, any way at all, you’ll have me to deal with no matter how many galleries you can get my work into. We clear about that?”

  “Message received. And just so you know, you have an ally in my sister. She told me pretty much the same thing. Seems she likes Quanna better than she likes me.”

  “Sounds like your sister and I are on the same page.”

  • • •

  The ride from the resort to the freeway was quiet. So was the travel on I-84. When Jack turned off onto the road south, toward the ranch, he finally broke the silence. “Are you ever going to talk, or are we going to have to learn American Sign Language to communicate?” He thought the light tone of his comment would make her smile, at least, if not laugh. It didn’t. “Come on, Quanna. Talk to me.”

  “I’m still mad.”

  “Yeah, I noticed. I’ve already apologized for not telling you I talked to Amanda. What else can I do?”

  “I’m not mad about your talking to Amanda. Exactly.”

  “Then what is it—exactly?”

  “You and Frank took over the conversation and moved ahead without me. I didn’t even have a chance to explain to my own brother why I wanted to see him, much less discuss what would work with Mom. You made the deal with him to get a favor; then you and Frank worked it all out.” She finally looked over at him. “It was like when you took on my neighbor or those jerks who were hassling me in the bar. Or when you announced we were hosting a party for the football game without talking to me. You had all the answers. I didn’t have a chance to say anything.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I thought I was helping.”

  “But you didn’t ask if I wanted help; you assumed. You went ahead and made decisions for both of us without talking to me, without asking what I wanted you to do. If I wanted you to do anything at all.”

  He pulled the truck to the side of the road, shoved the gearshift into park, and turned off the ignition. “I’m sorry. Please don’t be angry. I don’t know what to say other than that. I guess I was doing what I would have with Paula. I grew up with the only other woman I’ve been with. I didn’t have to ask her. I knew.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “You and I are still learning about each other, and I’m obviously not always getting it right. Not yet, anyway. If I promise I won’t make plans for the two of us without discussing it with you, will you cut me some slack while I figure it out? Please?”

  The smile he had been waiting for finally appeared. “When you say it like that, how can I say no?”

  He restarted the truck and got back on the road muttering, “Thank you, Lucas, for those lessons on begging and whining.”

  • • •

  It took Frank less than a day to get back to Quanna to tell her their mother was receptive to meeting Jack. A time was set for the following Saturday afternoon.

  Jack picked Quanna up at her apartment and, following her directions, drove to her mother’s modest, one-story house back in the hills on the reservation. She was nervous for the whole drive, saying little. Jack occasionally patted her on the arm or the knee as reassurance but seemed to know not to say anything.

  Frank answered the door when she knocked.

  “You could have used your key, Quanna. This is your house, too,” he said.

  “I didn’t want to assume,” she said, after kissing him on the cheek. “This doesn’t feel like the usual visit home.”

  Her mother appeared in the small entryway. “I’m glad to see you, Quanna.” She kissed her daughter then eyed the man standing behind her. “Why don’t you introduce me to your friend.”

  “Mom, this is Jack Richardson. Jack, my mother Winona Morales.”

  Jack extended his hand. “Thank you for inviting us, Mrs. Morales.”

  “Quanna doesn’t need an invitation. This is her home.”

  “Of course. I meant ...”

  Quanna interrupted. “Mom, could we all go in and sit down?”

  Mrs. Morales led the way into a small living room and took her place in a brown recliner, back straight, legs at right angles and together, hands grasping the arm rests, a queen on her throne receiving her subjects.

  Quanna sat on the flowered couch and patted the cushion beside her for Jack to join her. Frank dropped to the floor near the sofa and sat cross-legged, leaving a smaller upholstered chair empty.

  It didn’t stay empty for long. Quanna had already spotted her brother Miguel lurking in the hall leading to the house’s three bedrooms. He came into the room after the others were settled and sat in the empty chair.

  Quanna waved at him. “Hey, Miguel. There’s someone here I’d like you to meet.” She turned to her left. “This is my friend, Jack Richardson. Jack, this is my brother, Miguel.”

  “Hi,” Jack said. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Did you bring me a present? Frank said you might bring me a present.”

  “Miguel, you know better than to ask something like that,” his mother said.

  “As a matter of fact, I do have something for you,” Jack said. “Quanna told me you like cartoons. I got a couple new ones for you.” He handed over the bag he’d been carrying. “If you already have these, I can exchange them.”

  Miguel pulled two DVDs out of the bag and grinned. “I like them.”

  “What do you say to Mr. Richardson?” Winona asked.

  “Thank you.” He was already leaving the room as he said it. “I can watch them by myself. In my room
.”

  “Frank must have told you to do that,” Winona said.

  “He said you’d think candy or flowers would be a bribe to get you to like me, but some new DVDs for Miguel would be okay. My mother taught me to take something to a hostess when I visit so I was happy to have his advice.”

  By the way her mother fought to keep her mouth from curving up in a smile, Quanna knew Jack had scored a point or two for his honesty and his manners. She started to relax a little. Then her mother said, “Frank and Quanna, please go get the coffee and cookies from the kitchen.”

  It was impossible to say no when her mother gave a command. Quanna threw Jack what she hoped was an encouraging look over her shoulder and followed her brother. With luck, they could get it organized and out soon because she sure didn’t want to leave Jack alone with her mother for long. Her stomach clenched when she saw the coffee hadn’t been started, the cookies weren’t plated, and the cups and spoons weren’t out. Her mother had done it on purpose, she was sure, so she had time alone with Jack.

  • • •

  Jack didn’t know how to start a conversation with someone he’d been warned might dislike him. He was trying to come up with something when Winona Morales surprised him.

  “Thank you for what you did for Frank. I appreciate it. So does he.”

  “It was my pleasure. My brother’s wife has been an advocate for emerging artists for as long as I’ve known her. She was only too happy to help.”

  “She liked Frank’s work enough to pass it along to a gallery owner, he said. He got an e-mail from a woman who wants to talk about representing him.”

  “I’m glad it worked out.”

  “So, DVDs and introductions to gallery owners won over my sons. How did you win over my daughter? She’s usually the levelheaded one.”

  The quick change of subject took Jack aback. “Ah ... I can’t say I did anything deliberately. We just ... you know ... got to know each other and ... ah ... the longer I knew her, the more I came to care for her.”

  “How long has this been going on?”

  “Since the late summer.”

  “Why has it taken you this long to tell her family?”