Thankful for Love (22 page)

“Please don't make this decision in the heat of the moment. Take the weekend. Think about it. Then on Monday when you come to work, we can talk about it after the boys are in school. Talk about how we're going to deal with it.”

“We deal with it by facing facts. Like you said once, you need to know when to move on. And we've arrived there. We can't be involved, can't see each other again or be part of each other's lives.”

“What exactly do you mean by ‘can't be involved'?”

“It means what I said. A clean break. Not seeing each other anymore. It means I can't work for you, either. Not after what's gone on between us. I'll come back to work next week and continue in my job until you find a replacement.”

“You're dumping Daniel and Lucas, as well as me? They'll be devastated.”

“Don't play that card. It's hitting below the belt.”

“Not when it's the truth. What am I supposed to tell them?”

“Nothing. I'll talk to them. I'll tell them I have a chance to finish school so I can teach. It's not altogether a lie. I've saved enough money to go to school almost full time next year, and I think I've worked out a way to get my degree without having to move back to Portland. I'll tell them I can still see them on weekends. It's not as if I'm going to disappear and never see them again.”

“There has to be another way, Quanna. I love you. I don't want to lose you. Please think about it before you make a decision affecting us all.”

“I won't be the reason people think badly of you. Or the reason the boys are humiliated and bullied in school. This is for the best. For all of us.”

He tried to put his arms around her again, but once more, she backed away. “Don't. You know that'll make it more difficult for both of us.”

“What's making it difficult is what you're determined to do.”

“Please, Jack, go back to your guests. I'll see you Monday when I come to work.”

“Will you think about this over the weekend so we can talk next week?”

“I'm not going to change my mind.”

He opened the door, but stood there for a second or so before saying, “And I'm not either. I love you. Nothing will change that.”

“Are you mad at us?” His voice trembling, Lucas sounded as if he were close to tears. Quanna hadn't heard him come into the kitchen where she was packing the usual Monday lunches for him and his brother.

“No, sweetie, I'm not mad at you. Why do you think I am?”

“You left on Thanksgiving without saying good-bye. You didn't even have dessert. And you didn't come back on Friday. Aunt Amanda and Aunt Barbara said they didn't know why you left, and Dad won't tell us anything.”

“I'm sorry I upset you. But I'm not mad.” She wiped her hands on her jeans legs. “I do have something to tell you when Daniel comes down.”

“He's in the family room. I'll go get him.”

A few minutes later, two pairs of brown eyes were looking up at her, one set begging the news not be bad. The other pair guarded, as if knowing it would be.

“I told your dad this already. Now I have to tell you. I'm going to stop being your nanny. I've been working a long time to finish college so I can teach. And I think I can in the next two terms. I'm going to try. But I can't take that many classes and still work here. So, I'm leaving as soon as your dad finds someone to take my place.”

Lucas threw himself at her, clutching her around the waist. “You can't leave. We love you.”

“I'm not going to disappear. I can see you on weekends, if it's okay with your dad and works out with your schedules.”

“But it won't be the same.” Lucas was now verging on a full-fledged meltdown.

Daniel stared hard at her. “Will you still be Dad's girlfriend?”

Quanna shook her head. “I think it would be better if I wasn't.” She put her hand on his shoulder. He shook it off.

“Don't you love Dad anymore?” he asked.

She had hoped she could get through the week without any more tears, but it was beginning to look like she wouldn't. “Sometimes, Daniel, love isn't enough.”

“That's not what our mom said. She used to sing a song about all you need is love.”

“It's a good song and I wish it were true, but it's not.” She peeled Lucas off with a hug and a kiss. “You better get your stuff for school. You have to be ready when your ride gets here.”

“I'm their ride this week.” Jack was standing just outside the kitchen. She wasn't sure how much he'd heard of their conversation, but from the look on his face, he'd heard enough of it to make him unhappy. He made for the coffeepot, giving her and his almost tearful son a wide berth. “And I'll be picking them up, too. You won't have to be here for them after school this week. You can leave early.”

“If you want me to, I will.”

“There's not much around here of what I want lately. Only what I have to deal with.” He poured coffee into a travel mug and took the sugar bowl she handed him. “Get your backpacks and coats and let's go, guys. We have a couple other kids to pick up.”

• • •

Quanna wasn't sure Jack would come back in the house after he dropped off the boys at school. But he did. He came in through the mudroom and stopped at the door to the kitchen, staring at her, saying nothing.

“Is there something you want?” she asked.

“You made Daniel and Lucas unhappy this morning.” He was standing with legs apart, his shoulders squared, twirling his ring of keys. “Is that what you were going for? If you were, congratulations. You succeeded.”

“You know it's not. I said I would tell them I was leaving, and I did.”

“You broke their hearts.”

“Stop. Please stop.” She could feel the tears begin to leak out of her eyes. She'd done little else but cry for four days. How was it possible there were any more tears left?

Before she could move, he was holding her, rubbing her back, making soft, reassuring sounds against her hair. It was so tempting to melt into him, let him comfort her, but she couldn't. If she did, all the resolve she had worked to acquire over the weekend would be gone. She jerked away from him. “I can't ... I mean, you shouldn't ... we can't ...”

“Yes, we can. You know we can.”

“What I know is what I heard right here in this kitchen four days ago. And I won't subject you and the boys to any more of it. A lifetime of hearing ugly things like that would be far more painful than a momentary sadness because I'm leaving.”

“A
momentary
sadness
? Is that what you think of my feelings for you?”

“I didn't mean you. I meant the boys.”

“You underestimate how important you've become to them. And you're avoiding the question about how I feel about you.”

“How we feel won't begin to stand up to how the bigots feel. Believe me. I know how ugly it can get.”

“Is this about what happened with your brother and his wife?”

“No, of course not. She didn't like living on the rez. It's not the same as you being hurt, the boys being hurt, by nasty gossip because of who I am. Of what I can't change, don't want to change even if I could. This is about what I've been telling you all along would happen as soon as people found out you were dating an Indian.” She wanted him to understand, to believe the truth of what she was saying, to see reality.

But he seemed unimpressed. He stared at her. Finally he broke eye contact, tossed his keys into the bowl on the counter, and shed his coat. “We keep going around and around the same circle. I don't seem able to make you hear what I'm trying to say. If you won't change your mind, I guess I might as well give up.”

He hung up his coat and, his back to her, said, “I'll be taking the boys to school and picking them up this week. You won't have to be here for them after school. You can leave any time you want. I won't be here during the day so make sure you lock up when you leave.”

Turning to face her, he added, “One last thing before I go. Aren't you doing the same thing you were angry about that day we met with your brother? Making decisions for both of us without talking it over with me? Is it any fairer now than it was then?”

“This is entirely different.”

“Is it?”

Before she could explain how different it was, he was out of the kitchen and up the stairs. He stayed in his office behind a closed door, and she didn't see him again until he left to pick up the kids at school.

• • •

True to his word, she didn't see him any of the following days except for a few minutes in the morning before he took off to drive the kids to school. The rest of the day, he was gone. She missed him. She found herself preparing dinners she knew he liked, making the desserts he favored. Even going into his bathroom to smell his sage soap.

She was torturing herself, she knew. But she needed to have some tiny contact with him. Although it made her sad, she wanted to save those last few memories for when she wouldn't have any contact at all.

On Thursday morning, when Daniel picked up his lunch after breakfast, he asked, “Did you mean it when you said you would come see us on the weekend when you weren't working?”

“Of course I did.”

“How about this Saturday? We need a ride to a soccer game. I heard Dad say he wouldn't be here.”

“Okay. I'd be happy to give you a ride. Where's the game and what time does it start?”

“I think it's in Pendleton. And if you're here before ten, it should work out.”

It seemed an odd way to phrase it, but feeling guilty about hurting him by leaving, she agreed.

Quanna was packing up her apartment, a box a day, preparing to move. She'd given two weeks notice to the building manager the day after Thanksgiving. With her full-time job about to end and not wanting to touch the savings she had so carefully accumulated to pay for classes winter term, she was resigned to moving back to the reservation. Although her mother had been gracious and hadn't asked any questions when Quanna had called to see if she could have her old bedroom back, it was a far from ideal move. But she hoped it was temporary.

On Thursday evening, she was filling a box with the contents of a kitchen cabinet when there was a knock at the door. Fearing it was Jack coming to try once more to persuade her not to leave, she didn't answer at first. Then a woman's voice said, “Quanna? Are you there?”

Curious, she opened the door a bit. It was Anne Salazar.

“Oh, good. I'm glad you're here. I was afraid you might be out or working at the restaurant. I would have called in advance, but I wasn't sure you'd say yes to seeing me so I took a chance and came to see you.” She took a breath. “Sorry. Didn't mean to ramble on. I'm a little nervous. Can I come in?”

“I guess.” Quanna opened the door enough to let her in.

“Are you moving someplace?” Anne said, looking around at the boxes.

“In a couple weeks, I'll be moving in with my mother.” She was in no mood to go into details so she changed the subject. “What can I do for you, Anne?”

“You can hear me out while I try to explain my part in the embarrassing fiasco on Thanksgiving. I won't try to excuse myself. What I said, what I did, was inexcusable. But I would like to explain it.” She sank onto the futon. “Could I bother you for a glass of water?”

Quanna went to the kitchen and took her time putting ice then water in a glass, trying to figure out how Anne could possibly make what happened on Thanksgiving understandable. She brought the glass to her visitor and took a seat on the small rocker, waiting to hear what the woman had to say.

Anne took a long swallow of water, put the glass down on the table next to the futon, and began. “Maybe I should start with a little background. I'm not sure if you knew this, but Paula—the boys' mother—was my only child. When she died, I wanted to curl up and die, too. There didn't seem to be any reason to live. I don't know what I would have done if Jack hadn't asked me to help with the boys. I grabbed onto his request like a lifeline. It felt like I was getting another chance to be with Paula. At least, with the part of her still here—her sons.”

Anne was twisting her wedding ring on her finger as she continued. “Having to quit taking care of them was like losing her all over again. When Jack started to interview my replacement, I realized my role in raising them really was over.”

She sipped more water. “Before the day you came to the ranch, I had only seen one of the other applicants, and she was older than I am. So I was surprised when you came to the door for your interview. I didn't expect someone so pretty, so enthusiastic, so ... so young. It got worse when the boys got home. I could see from the first time you met them how they reacted, especially Lucas. I knew it wouldn't take long before they loved you. And they did. Then Jack fell in love with you, too. They were all moving on, leaving Paula behind, and I was still stuck in the same place without my daughter and now without the only thing left of her.”

No matter how hurt Quanna had felt from the words she'd overheard Anne say at the ranch, it was impossible not to feel sympathy for her. “Oh, Anne, Daniel and Lucas would never change the way they feel about you ...” Quanna began.

“Please. Let me get this out before I lose my nerve.” Anne finished off the glass of water. “All our friends loved you. All I heard from them was how happy they were for Jack. How wonderful you were with the boys. Everyone was so busy liking you, no one stopped to think about Paula. You were taking her place, and I hated it. Jealousy ate at me.”

She sighed. “I was a stupid, jealous old woman who, after two glasses of wine on Thanksgiving, said horrible things about another human being who didn't deserve any of it. When I heard what Lenny had said, I thought maybe I could dislodge you from the ranch by agreeing with him, even though I knew every word I said about you—every word he'd said—was untrue. You'd think that knowing Jack as well as I do, I'd have known he'd never listen to that sort of garbage. I guess I was just that desperate.” She picked up the glass again, only to discover it was empty and put it back down.