Sisters in the Wind(101)
Miss Lonnie never rebuilt her cabin after the fire on Beaver Island. She traveled all over, visiting family and friends. She had been making her way through Central America when Daunis called. She came to Charlevoix shortly after Luke and I moved in with Misho Abe. She rents an apartment nearby but comes over every day. She and Misho enjoy working on puzzles.
Luke startles when the ferry horn signals its departure from the island. He looks around, unsure about the sound.
“What was that?” I say, raising both palms.
He mimics my gesture.
Soon enough, it’s our turn to drive onto the ferry. This time the blast of the horn is directly overhead. It’s loud, and for a second I wonder if Luke will cry. His wide eyes look to me. I clap and cheer. Miss Lonnie and Misho Abe do the same.
“Yay,” Luke exclaims.
When we’re halfway to the island, I take a pinch of loose tobacco in my left hand. I release the semaa to the river breeze. I smile at my two newest tattoos—Daunis and Lily—both on my left forearm. Then, I touch below my collarbone where there are more names tattooed above my heart: Luke, Dad, Jamie, Diego.
“Miigwech,” I say. It’s a little prayer that says so much.
Once we’re on Sugar Island, I follow Daunis’s directions. Just as she’d said, there are stone pillars on either side of the driveway of her aunt’s house. There is also a sign with a message in Anishinaabemowin and the translation provided below:
FIREKEEPER-BIRCH
Bigiiwen Enji Zaagigooyin
(Come Home Where You Are Loved)
The same words Jamie wrote on his business card. My nose tickles. A lump fills my throat. He wanted today to happen. My homecoming.
The driveway leads to a clearing with a chalet-style cedar log home. Daunis greets me with a huge smile. We talk nearly every day on the phone but haven’t seen each other since Jamie’s memorial service and the meeting with Connor St. Jude, his friend and attorney. It’s only been three months but feels much longer. My left leg can give me trouble when I’ve been in the car a long time, but I’m positive with PT and daily swims at the local Y, I’ll be back to normal soon. Or, well, to my new normal.
Daunis and I hug while Miss Lonnie gets Luke from his car seat. I hold on to my sister’s best friend tightly. I’d forgotten her scent, but it’s instantly familiar and comforting. As she hugs me back, something is different. It takes the length of our hug for me to identify the cause.
Her stomach is swollen. Full but not squishy.
Daunis is well into a pregnancy she hasn’t told me about.
When I pull away, her broad smile is accompanied by damp eyes. Sweetness and sorrow. I know without calculating weeks that Jamie is the baby’s father.
“I wanted to tell you in person,” she begins. “But both times I was supposed to drive downstate … well, with my mom’s wedding and all…” She gives a one-shouldered shrug. “When you asked for your Spirit name, it made sense to wait until you were here. But now that you know, I have so many pregnancy questions.”
By now, Luke has escaped Miss Lonnie’s grasp and reaches my legs. Daunis squats in front of him.
“Aaniin, Luke. You’ve gotten so big.” She braces herself with a knee on the ground as he flings himself into her arms. He’s a friendly little boy who likes hugs, music, cookies, and dogs.
After a hug, Luke is eager to explore the enormous wooden jungle gym beyond the driveway. Two young girls ask Daunis if they can take him to play.
“That’s up to his mom.” To me she says, “These are my nieces, Perry and Pauline.”
Finally meeting them in person, I feel starstruck. I know so much about them. Although they’re dressed similarly, Pauline is clearly the one with the pink laces in her sneakers and the Hannah Montana T-shirt. Perry’s jeans have a hole in the knee and her cornrow braids are gathered in a wide barrette beaded with a fish design. My heart swells at the sight of them, the awe in their eyes over Luke, who is equally smitten.
“Nice to meet you,” I say. “Just the swings and slide for now.” There’s a scary-looking tree fort and monkey bars that are too high off the ground for my liking.
As we watch, each girl takes one of his hands. His attempt at running while they lift him off the ground makes him look like an astronaut walking on the moon. Giant leaps for mankind.
I reintroduce Daunis to Miss Lonnie and to Misho Abe. By now, Daunis’s aunt Teddie and uncle Art have joined us. More hugs. We all met briefly at the memorial service in Mount Pleasant, but it was such a chaotic time. Daunis and I were still in shock, unable to comprehend Jamie’s death.
We walk over to a picnic table and lawn chairs near the jungle gym. Art holds a tiny, weird-looking puppy named Elvis Junior, who’s eager for kisses but smells sort of bad. I bring Misho Abe’s walker, which converts into a chair. We sit and watch the twins playing with Luke. They take turns supporting him as he toddles up the few steps to the smaller slide. One helps him up while the other waits at the bottom of the slide, cheering for him.
My son is delighted by the attention.
Before too long, a minivan pulls into the driveway. I reach for Daunis’s hand. She gives a gentle squeeze to reassure me.
Two children dart from the van as soon as it stops. The boy is the same size as the twins. The girl is smaller and slower.
“Lucas, wait up,” she pleads.