Uncontrollable (The Nature of Grace, Book 2) (5 page)

Mom laughs while crying. “Yes. Joe always used to say that. You’re right, Birdee, we’ll do better. Won’t we, honey?”

Birdee squeezes Mom’s hand again. Mom reaches over and clutches onto mine. For a short second, we all three sit in a semi-circle holding hands around the table in silence. The bond of that moment somehow heals a small sliver of the scar running through my heart.

A few seconds later, Birdee snatches her hand back. “Well, that’s enough
Days of Our Lives
for one day. Chicken, tell me, how’s school going? And don’t just say ‘fine,’ because I want deets.”

“Good.” I smile and rip off a piece of bread. Popping the warm dough into my mouth, I try to act natural as I dive into the wolf project. “Today I got chosen for a special project. The USFWS is doing a new study on the red wolves, and they need some students to help gather data in the field.”

Birdee claps. “Well, good for you! Your daddy would be so proud.”

Mom jerks her head in my direction. “What kind of data?”

I pause for a second, trying to think of a way to make this project sound as low-risk as possible. “You know, when they eat, when they sleep – just everyday behavior stuff.”

Before Birdee can say anything, Mom pipes in again. “When you say
field
, do you mean you’re going out into the woods? Or is this at an animal reserve of some sort?”

“There is a reserve.” I keep my head down and nod as if the question doesn’t matter. I tell a small white lie to ease her anxiety. “So probably both.”

Mom doesn’t bite. Instead, she pushes back her chair and stands, collecting dishes. As she walks into the kitchen, she simply says one word, “No.”

It takes me a second to process and react. “No? Wait! Mom, please. I have to do this. Ms. Cox is giving extra credit, and I need to make up for all the days I missed this quarter because of the trial.”

I jump up and follow her into the kitchen with another dirty plate. “Besides, I already said yes. I can’t back out now. They already assigned teams.”

Mom shakes her head and starts scrubbing so hard, I swear she’s trying to scrape the flowery design off the plate. Her voice is flat. “I said no. It’s too dangerous being out in the woods again. Alone. Never mind it’s going to be a nasty winter.” She shakes her head. “No way. Not a chance in Hades, Grace.”

I try to keep my voice flat. “I’ll be careful, I promise. I won’t be by myself. I have a whole team, and Agent Sweeney is in charge.”

She crosses her arms. “Sweeney? Has he found—”? She stops.

I know what she’s going to say, so I hit the concern head- on, hoping to make her feel better about the project. Show her I’m not scared so she doesn’t have to be. “Al? No, I don’t think so.”

She jerks back, surprised. “You don’t
think
so? Uh, that’s not good enough.”

I can’t help but think of Al, and his horrible attacks on my family and me. But I pretend not to be that concerned for Mom’s sake. “You know he’s long gone. Agent Sweeney said he’d be dumb to come back here.”

Mom scoffs. “Well, from what I know, he was–.”

Birdee cuts in. “A few feathers short of a duck?”

I can’t help but smile at Birdie’s way of putting things, but Mom’s not amused. “Yes, but don’t start with me, Birdee. This is not a funny one-liner.” Mom tries to escape the small kitchen.

Birdee stands firm in the doorway, blocking her exit. “Mary, I think you should let her go. Grace needs this. She can’t live in fear forever, and we can’t protect her forever.”

Mom faces her and narrows her eyes. “Stay out of this. I mean it.”

I expect Birdee to get louder, but instead she softens her voice and puts her hand on Mom’s shoulder. “Honey, what happened to Joe happened. We can’t go back and change any of that. And as much as we’d all like to control this grand universe and everyone in it, we can’t prevent anything bad from happening to anyone. We can’t keep Grace in a bubble for the rest of her life.” She points to the ceiling. “Besides, the Big Man’s in charge. Not you or I. Control is only an illusion.”

Mom shakes her head as tears break through their barrier and stream down her cheeks, smudging her makeup. Even though she’s upset, her voice still comes out strong and solid. “Birdee, you can’t come in after a few months and philosophize this away and expect everything to be okay! You haven’t been here. You don’t know what it’s been like without Joe around. You left us, remember?”

I stand trembling, waiting for Birdee’s response. Looking between the two people I love most.

Birdee frowns and stands her ground. “You listen here, Mary Wells. Joe was my only son, and I’m hurting just as much as you are. I raised that boy on my own after his daddy died, so don’t you dare lecture me about pain.”

Her face remains stoic, but I recognize the strain in her voice. Birdee pauses to collect herself. “Just because Joe died, doesn’t mean we all have to stop livin’. We need to go on. For him.”

Mom tosses the dishrag on the counter in defeat. “That’s fine, but I’m leaving town. This is not a good time.”

“There never is,” Birdee answers.

I stare at Mom. “Wait. You’re leaving town? When? Why?”

Mom collapses against the counter. “Jim, I mean Dr. Head, wants me to work for him full time. But to do that, I have to go to Asheville for a training seminar on medical filing and insurance stuff. I’ll be back right before Christmas.”

I add the time up in my head. “But that’s a few weeks away. That’s way too long.”

Mom rubs my arm. “I know it’s not the perfect time, but this is a chance for me to get outta that diner and work a full-time job during the day while you’re at school. That way I can be home with you more at night and on weekends.”

Birdee steps up and squeezes my shoulder. “Now, Chicken. Don’t get your boy shorts in a twist. That’s why I’m here.” She nods to my mom. “And I’ll watch her closer than I do my own Petey.”

At the sound of his name, Petey squawks from the corner. “I’m watching you.”

Mom and I can’t help but smirk.

Birdee calls to him over her shoulder, “Mind your own business, Petey. No one needs a dodo’s opinion.”

Mom glances between Birdee and Petey, as if not wanting to interrupt an important conversation. Eventually she sighs, the universal sign of defeat. “You promise you’ll keep tabs on her?” Birdee nods, then Mom stares at me. “And you’ll be extra careful?”

I hold up three fingers, a habit left over from being a Girl Scout years ago. “I promise.”

Petey pipes in, “
I promise
.”

Mom grins and strokes his little head. “Fine.”

I run over and hug her. “Thanks, Mom. I swear I’ll be fine.”

“You’d better.”

Birdee hugs us both. “Don’t worry. We all will be.”

Survival Skill #3

Survivor’s guilt may cause you to alienate friends and family, which may lead to isolation, loneliness, and denial
.

S
ometimes I think the whole town hates me.

All 4,097 of them.

I haven’t been into town in a while. I even quit working at Tommy’s store to avoid all the stares and comments. Tommy too.

Mom’s taken the most heat. Working at the diner, she’s forced to put up with the looks and the whispers. Somehow everyone – even the tourists – seems to know or has heard about our town and Dad’s case. If Mom had more money, we probably would’ve moved, but for now we’re stuck here. I’m sure that’s why she’s trying this new job with Dr. Head. To get away from everything I’ve been avoiding for months.

Today I’m forced to endure the haters, as the temporary space of Agent Sweeney’s USFWS office just happens to be in Carl’s old building. Right in the middle of town. Walking down the sidewalk, I keep my eyes on my feet as I pass by Mr. Field’s old boarded-up general store. When I reach the post office, the new postman, who replaced Louie when he was convicted, doesn’t even acknowledge my existence. I pick up speed and notice another store newly boarded up. And it’s right next door to
Tommy’s Fishing Shack
.

At least his place is still open – for now.

I shield my eyes with both mittened hands and press my face against the frosted window. Tommy is at the register counting money before he opens for the day. The store appears to be exactly the same as it was on my last day working. Not that it would be different in just a few months. But since everything else in my world has changed, I assumed this place would’ve too.

As I watch Tommy work, the muffled sounds of Native American music float through the store. What once seemed like home to me now feels strange and unfamiliar. I almost knock on the window to get his attention, but I stop myself.

Even though none of what happened with Dad or Carl was really Tommy’s fault, I can’t help but wonder if things would have been different had he just been honest with me from the beginning. His betrayal still lingers, and no matter how hard I try to let it go – how much I want to let it go – something deep inside me can’t seem to find a way.

Mom says it will take time; I’m just not sure how much.

Before I can leave, Tommy spots me in the window and waves from the other side. I force out a smile. He quickly grabs his carved-wood cane and hobbles to the door as fast as he can. Because he got shot saving me, they say he’ll never walk the same again.

To be honest, nothing will ever be the same since the poaching ring was uncovered. Not the town. Not Tommy. And certainly not me.

Tommy pulls open the glass door. “Hey, Elu!
To hi tsu
?”

I immediately soften at the nickname he’s had for me since I was little. I spin around, but refrain from answering him in Cherokee. It doesn’t feel right. We don’t speak the same language anymore.

I try to sound happy and lighthearted, “Hi, Tommy.”

We exchange a quick, awkward hug. The kind where there’s a tiny space between you, keeping you apart. Space that’s filled with something you can’t control. Space that feels larger than it really is. Space you both pretend isn’t there.

I stare at the cane propping him up and can’t help feeling a pang of guilt for not being able to forgive him the way I probably should. Maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on him. He took a bullet for me. So did Mo, only Mo wasn’t as lucky as Tommy. After all, Tommy’s experienced loss too, lost his wife, lost my Dad, and lost his nephew, Chief Reed. Even though Reed was in cahoots with Carl, his death caused Tommy to be ostracized from his own reservation. The one his ancestors started.

I force out words. “How are you?”

He holds the door with his hand. “Oh, you know, can’t complain. Same ole, same ole.”

His voice is tight, almost making me wish I hadn’t stopped. He scans the street.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, but he says it like,
Why are you here, because we all know no one likes you and therefore you are in danger of being stoned by a crazy backwoods mob
?

I point down to Carl’s old place. “I signed up with the USFWS for a conservation program on red wolves at school. Today is Agent Sweeney’s big kickoff.”

Tommy frowns. “Does your Mom know about this?”

I stiffen. “Of course.” I can’t help but feel a pang of anger. Who is he to question me? I try to shake it off. “Mom’s doing some training out of town for a couple weeks, so Birdee’s staying with me.”

Wrinkles form around his mouth, telling me he’s gone from frowning to smiling. His eyes light up. “Ahhhh! Well, then, I’m not worried about you. I know what kind of damage that woman can do if someone messes with her kin. Seen it myself.”

His chuckle softens me a bit, and for a split second, things feel slightly normal again. Our eyes lock, and so many things pass between us, things still unspoken. Things we will never speak of again. And unfortunately, things we can never forget. A slew of emotions spin around us – regret, pain, respect, betrayal, gratitude, love, and maybe, somewhere deep down, a speck of forgiveness.

Tommy’s eyes get a little watery, and he hugs me hard. My body remains as straight as a board. I can’t seem to relax around him anymore. He senses it and starts to pull away. “Well, you’d better go, Elu. Let’s plan on meeting for lunch soon.”

I squeeze him quickly. Just long enough to tell him I’ll always love him even if it doesn’t seem like it. That I forgive him; I just can’t forget. I wonder if he hears my thoughts.

I manage to say, “Sure,” knowing that meal will probably never happen.

He adjusts his old fishing cap. “You still got that hunting knife I gave you?”

I can’t help but try to slice through this hard loaf of awkward. “Nope, gave it away.” At first he looks pained, so I smirk to let him know I’m kidding. “Of course I have it.”

He appears relieved. Then his face turns serious. He glances around the town before his eyes land on mine. “Good. Make sure to carry it with you. Always.”

No matter what, Tommy can’t help but watch out for me. It’s in his blood.

“I will.”

He stares at me a little too long. As if he’s about to say something I’m not ready to hear.

To lighten the moment, I point to his shorts and fishing boots. “You know it’s winter, right?”