by Davis, Mary
When Will had come again today, he’d made sure to tell her he was here just as a friend. She appreciated him making sure that was clear so she didn’t have to wonder, but she had told him he didn’t have to say it every time he came over and that she would just assume their status was friendship until otherwise stated. She liked having him as a friend.
She pulled a newspaper article out of the box. “This one might be on my grandmother’s side of the family. What do you think?” She held it out to him.
He didn’t take it. “Just put it in the empty box.”
“Shouldn’t we catalog it, so we can find it again?”
“I don’t think we need to bother with it right now.”
“How come every time I want to do something with information I think might be related to my grandmother, you tell me not to bother?”
“I just think we should focus on Dancing Turtle’s family.”
Rachel swallowed against a rising irritation. “Why? Because he is male and the male lineage is the only one that matters?”
“No.”
“Then what is it?”
“I just think the Ojibwa connection is more interesting.”
“But I have family on both sides. I can’t ignore one side because it might be boring.” Was he just like Christopher, only acknowledging what was acceptable? She made a special pile for it. She wouldn’t toss it aside.
The silence that followed irritated her. She wanted the easy camaraderie they usually had. And Ojibwa was just the way to get it back. “If I’m at least one-quarter Ojibwa and whatever else, what are you?”
“What does that matter?”
“I just want to know. Are you all Ojibwa?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“I find that hard to believe—you, who knows the island history better than anyone.” What was the big deal?
Flustered, he said, “I have some French and English I guess.”
“How much?”
He raised his voice a little. “What does it matter?”
“I guess it matters to you, or you wouldn’t be trying to hide it.”
“I’m not hiding it.”
Let him believe what he wanted. Just like Christopher’s family, he molded his heritage to suit him. “You seem to be only interested in Native American things. Is that the only reason you are friends with me, because I’m part Ojibwa?”
“No. Of course not.”
“Then what?”
He scratched his head. “I don’t know. I can’t think of anything off the top of my head. Sometimes there aren’t specific reasons. It just is.”
“And sometimes it’s Ojibwa blood.”
He frowned then turned and walked out.
Fine. She’d had enough of his surly mood for one day.
❧
Will kicked into the middle of his living room one of his dress shoes he’d taken off after school. Why couldn’t he have just given a simple answer and not gotten upset over it? He hated his other ancestry. Hated to think about, hated to admit it. Why couldn’t he just be full-blood Ojibwa?
He envied Rachel for wanting to embrace her whole heritage. The good and the bad. She wanted Twin Bear’s family even though they didn’t want her. They didn’t deserve her.
Lord, why can’t I be full-blood? Why do I have to be mixed? Why couldn’t You give me ancestors to be proud of?
He pulled out a paper his younger sister had written in sixth grade, when all that mattered was that she had a famous ancestor—if only on a local level. Back then, she had refused to be ashamed of either her Native American heritage or her infamous European ancestors. She had gotten some teasing on both accounts but just held her head up and ignored them—unlike himself. As a boy, he’d been expected to fight to defend his family’s honor or prove his worth. Instead, he’d just put his head down in shame.
Why, Lord?
Suddenly, a sermon he’d heard years ago forced its way to the front of his mind. It was on the importance of lineage, in particular, Jesus’ lineage. All those names were recorded to prove He was the prophesied Messiah. The pastor had pointed out that it did show that Jesus was a descendant of King David, but it also revealed that He was descended from a prostitute, murderer, and thief, as well as His divine lineage. Jesus had scoundrels in His line. Just like me.
He smiled. He’d lost sight of the fact—or maybe he’d never seen—how God was not ashamed of Will’s heritage. It didn’t matter so much who was in his lineage, but how he behaved. How he pleased God.
He touched his choker. Is this what Dancing Turtle meant by “finding his way?” Had Dancing Turtle sensed what he’d been hiding from?
❧
Will pulled up next to Garth in the teachers’ “parking lot.” He’d wished he’d been able to talk to Rachel before she left for Europe. Make amends for his poor behavior. Explain to her about his ancestors.
Garth shook his head at some of the students parking their snowmobiles. “I still can’t get over kids that young driving to school.”
“They can get a snowmobile license at twelve.” It had taken him a bit to get used to it, too.
“Garth do you think the only reason I like Rachel is because of her Ojibwa heritage?”
“No.”
That was an answer but not very helpful. “How can you be sure?”
“Isn’t Stacy one of the few people around here who is almost full-blooded Native American?”
“I’ve heard she’s close.” He tucked his helmet under his arm and headed for the door.
“Are you attracted to her?”
Stacy was cute, and he’d taken her out once, but there was no energy between them. No spark. “What does my lack of attraction to Stacy have to do with Rachel?”
Garth held the door open for him. “If you were only interested in Rachel because she is part Ojibwa, then wouldn’t it stand to reason that you would be more attracted to Stacy because she has a stronger Native American background?”
There was a degree of logic there. So then why did he like her? “Your wife still thinks I like Rachel because she’s beautiful.”
“You may have initially been attracted to her because of her looks, as I was with Lori, but you’ve spent a lot of time with her. If she were shallow and uninteresting, you wouldn’t want to be around her. You’d be bored.”
She definitely didn’t bore him. She captivated him with her passion for the past. He loved history. He wanted to understand how her mind worked. Her organizational style was definitely unique. He would guess she was a visual learner. That was why she liked to spread everything out and tape things to the wall. He’d tried to get her to put everything in neat orderly files where she could find things easily, but she kept pulling everything back out.
He missed her. When was she coming back? She’d said she would be gone for two weeks. That didn’t tell him what day she would return. Exactly two weeks? Just shy of two weeks? A little over two weeks?
He wanted to kiss her, but even more, he wanted to be her friend. He’d said they were friends, and he was going to stick to that until he got a leading from God to move forward. Remember, Lord, I’m a little dense sometimes. You’re going to have to knock me over the head with it if You don’t want me to mess it up.
❧
Will sat on the couch with his mom as the end credits to the movie they’d just watched rolled up the screen. He should head to bed.
His mom picked up the remote and turned off the TV. “When are you going to bring Rachel home for a visit so I can get to know her better?”
He cocked his mouth up on one side. “When I get around to asking her out.”
“The way you talk about her, I thought you’d been dating for some time now.”
“Things were complicated at first.”
“And now?”
“I’m waiting for clear direction from the Lord.”
“Are you serious about her?”
> “Pretty serious.” He wouldn’t be spending so much time with her if he weren’t.
“Then I have something for you.” She left the room and returned a moment later. “I’ve known since your dad died that I would pass this on to you.” She put something into his hand.
He lifted the ring out of his palm. “This is your wedding ring.” A white gold band with a diamond in the raised center and a plain matching wedding band thinner in width.
“It is for you to give to the woman you decide to marry. Whether that is Rachel or another woman.”
Was that a hint? His vote was for Rachel. Would Rachel be happy with a ring this conservative? “What about Mandy, Bethany, and Lauren?”
“Mandy has hers from Jake, and your other sisters will receive their rings from their fiancés one day. You are my only son. I want you to have mine. My heart told me that now was the right time to give it to you.”
Was this his sign to move forward in his relationship with Rachel? He just wasn’t sure.
Fifteen
Rachel sat with her eyes closed as the make-up artist fussed with the shadow on her eyelids. Curlers in her hair waited for the stylist. Mark still had not told her what she would be wearing for today’s shoot.
This was the last shoot of the European tour. This one, Mark had said would be special and the best of all. They were shooting at the ruins of a castle in England. She would have three dress, make-up, and hair changes today. It was going to be a long day.
People gave models all the credit for the end result, when in reality, the model was only the canvas for the make-up artist, hair stylist, and clothing designer to show off their talents, and the photographer captured it all on film or, these days, a digital memory card. But they seemed to get fewer accolades. The model became famous, and the others were forgotten. It didn’t seem fair.
She had enjoyed her five-country tour of Europe, but she kept longing for home, for Mackinac Island. She kept wondering what Will was doing. Things were so unsettled between them.
Mitzy finished with her eyes. “Keep them closed.” Then she dusted her face and blew gently to remove any excess.
“Can I open now?”
After a moment of silence, Mitzy said, “Oops, go ahead and open. You can’t see me nod with your eyes closed, can you?”
She blinked against the light.
Mitzy aimed for her lips with a small lip brush. The last touch. “So when are you moving back to Boston?”
She waited for Mitzy to dab the brush in more color before answering. “I don’t know. Maybe never.”
Mitzy stared at her with her jaw unhinged, her brush hanging in the air between them. “You can’t not live in Boston. What about Mark?”
“There are plenty of other models for him to shoot.” And she could still travel to shoots and even work with Mark from time to time.
“I just assumed that the two of you would be getting back together, now that Christopher was out of the picture.”
“Mark and I were never together to begin with, so there would be no getting back together. He’s a great photographer but hardly my type. He acknowledges me as a model, but he has always been interested in Tansy.”
“Tansy Rockford?”
She nodded.
“She is way out of his league.”
“I don’t know.” If a top Boston model could be interested a high-school teacher, why not Mark and Tansy?
Mitzy finished brushing the color to her lips. “So if you’re not going to move back, what are you going to do?”
“For now I’ll stay on Mackinac Island.”
“What does that silly island have that Boston doesn’t have?”
Will’s face jumped to Rachel’s mind, and a smile pulled at her lips. She missed him. She hated that they had fought just before she left and didn’t get to resolve it.
“Or should I say who? What’s his name?”
There was no sense denying it. “Will. He’s my neighbor across the street.”
“What does he look like?”
“Long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and inviting brown eyes. A strong warrior face, yet it has a gentleness.”
“Is it serious?”
In a way, yes, but not the way Mitzy meant. “We’re just friends.”
“Yeah, right.”
But they were. He’d been so sweet since Christmas. Never pushing. Truly being her friend. “Can I look now?” Mitzy had her turned away from the mirror.
“Not until Pierre fixes your hair, and we have you in that dress. You know Mark likes you to see the whole picture on your first look, so you can be wowed by it.”
Yes, but that didn’t stop her from asking, and sometimes Mitzy would give her a peek. Mitzy had done something extra with her make-up, she could tell because it took her longer than usual, and she fussed more to get it right.
Pierre primped her hair, then she was put into a white iridescent gown without messing her hair or face.
Mitzy led her out of the dressing area to where Mark waited, biting his thumbnail. “Here she is.”
Mark turned and pressed his hands flat together. “Yes! Perfect.”
She was far from perfect and was glad she didn’t have to pretend to be anymore, but everyone had obviously achieved the look he was going for.
He motioned toward a full-length mirror. “Take a look.”
She sucked in a breath. “Wow.”
❧
The sleigh taxi came to a stop in front of her house. She sighed. Home. When she looked down from the taxi to get her footing so she could get off, Will stood there with one hand extended to her. She was glad that he obviously wasn’t too put off by their fight before she left.
She smiled and took it. “Thank you.”
He walked her in and set her suitcase by the door.
She was too tired for company. She didn’t want him to think she wasn’t glad to see him, so how did she gracefully tell him to leave? “Will, I can’t even begin to tell you the depth of my gratitude for you carrying that in, but I’m so exhausted I seriously don’t know how I’m still standing. I don’t mean to be rude, but if you don’t mind, I’m going to say good night.”
He nodded and moved toward the open door, reluctant to leave. “I understand. Are you still going to church in the morning?”
That’s right. It was still Saturday. What an extremely long day! She leaned on the edge of the door for support, putting her cheek against the wood. “Would you give me a wake-up call?”
He smiled then. “Sure. See you in the morning.”
That would give her plenty of time to sleep. She hadn’t been able to attend church while she was in Europe. She missed going. “Morning it is.”
“I have something for you.”
A gift? He must not be harboring any ill feelings. “Can it wait until morning?”
“Sure. I’ll bring it over after church.”
She relished the excuse to see him more.
❧
The ringing phone startled Rachel out of a dead sleep. She gasped for air. She shook the fog from her head and stared at the clock, willing the numbers to focus. It was morning already? She stumbled to the kitchen. “Hello.”
“Heavy sleeper?”
“Will?”
“This is the second time I called. I was getting worried.”
“I guess I was more sleep deprived than I thought.”
“The taxi comes in a half an hour. Is that enough time?”
“I’ll be ready. Thanks.” After all she didn’t have to be perfect. Will had seen her almost at her worst.
She still needed a fast shower and a quick breakfast. But she could do it. Just because she’d never gotten ready that fast before didn’t mean anything. She didn’t want to miss church.
She was pulling on the pants of her pantsuit when there was a knock on the door. She pulled them up and went to the door. “Will, I just need thirty seconds to find my shoes.” She went to her room and came back with one shoe on and her p
antsuit jacket half on. She hobbled to the kitchen as Will took her winter coat off the coat tree. She grabbed her yogurt with a spoon handle sticking out of the top from off of the counter. She hobbled into her other shoe. “Ready.”
Will held up her coat.
She slipped one arm into her coat and shifted her yogurt to her other hand. “What are you smiling about?”
“Just you rushing around.”
“I made it, didn’t I?”
“That’s what is so amazing. I didn’t think any woman could get ready that fast.”
“Posh. That’s just a stereotype.” She headed out to the taxi and climbed into the seat behind Lori and Garth and their two new children. Will sat in the seat next to her.
Seeing Lori and Garth with their children snuggled next to them caused something inside her to pull as if constricted. She wanted that, too, which surprised her. She had been happy with her career, but now she knew it would never be enough. That is what she had been feeling in Europe, a dissatisfaction. Modeling wasn’t enough any longer.
Before leaving for Europe, she’d spend most of her mornings over at Lori’s house with Lori and Lindy. The little girl had become comfortable around her. Rachel even had two “drawings” stuck on her refrigerator that Lindy had given her. One scribble drawing was of Lindy’s cat, the other, all pink and purple, was of Rachel. While she was in Europe, Rachel bought Lindy a doll and Michael a toy car. She would give the gifts to them after church.
Will leaned closer to her. “I know you were rushed, but you look beautiful.”
His compliment made her smile and warmth coiled around her heart. “Thank you.”
❧
Will sat on Rachel’s porch, flipping a small yellow book back and forth in his hands. Where could she be? He’d told her he’d be over soon. He stood when he saw her walking down the street toward him.
Her eyes widened when she saw him. “Have you been waiting long?”
About twenty minutes. “No. Not long.” He wanted to ask where she’d been but didn’t want to sound domineering or overbearing like she had to account to him for her every move. “You take a walk?”
“I was just over at Lori and Garth’s. I brought something back from Europe for the kids.”
