Sisters in the Wind(30)
I stare at her. How long does she think I’m going to stick around?
She continues. “My boyfriend, TJ, went to Central too. He played football for two years.”
“Jamie said he’s a tribal cop on your reservation.” It definitely sounds like an accusation.
“He did?” Her voice rises. “I mean, um … yeah. TJ’s been one for almost six years now.”
“He said they were probably at the Indian Police Academy around the same time.”
Daunis looks equal parts surprised and confused.
“They’re around the same age…” Her voice trails off.
“TJ never told you?” I don’t want to stir up trouble, but I am Team Jamie.
“It must not have occurred to him, or else he would have said something.” Daunis speaks with conviction. “TJ doesn’t lie to me.”
I laugh before seeing the seriousness of her expression.
“I used to think all guys lied,” she says softly. “TJ and I dated for a month in high school. Then he ditched me without a word—”
“And you’re back with him?” Now I’m dazed and confused. I thought Daunis was a strong person. Not just physically, but her character.
“Lucy, it’s not like that,” she says. “He broke up with me because my brother threatened to hurt him. TJ knew Levi had it in him to do something like that. I didn’t know that side of my brother then.” Daunis wipes a tear away. “A lot has happened over the past eight years. TJ went to Central until he turned twenty-one and could become a Tribal Police officer. He came back home because he knew Levi and his friends were bad news. TJ was looking out for me even when there wasn’t anything romantic between us.”
“So, when did you switch from Team Jamie to Team TJ?”
Daunis rises and begins pacing from the living room to the entry door.
“I went to college in Hawaii but came home every summer to apprentice with a traditional-medicine practitioner, a medicine woman. One summer I helped Tribal Police with an investigation. TJ and I became friends. He was dating someone, so that was the extent of it.” She pauses next to a barstool. “Last December … well, a year before this past one, TJ’s grandfather got sick. My family usually came to Hawaii every Christmas, but I went home instead. I spent time with Misho Jonsy before he passed. I helped the family any way I could. Helping elders cook for the firekeepers and the funeral meal. Running errands for them. Hauling firewood for the firekeepers—”
“What are firekeepers?” I’m curious enough to interrupt.
She plants herself on the barstool. I use the pause to hop to the accent chair. Dr. Rao said to change my position frequently to help with blood flow to my leg and foot. I ignore Daunis’s frown; she doesn’t think it’s a good idea to hop on my one good leg instead of using my walker, even though it’s faster.
“Firekeepers are men who strike the fire at ceremonies. They’re taught to use flint and steel or wood. They keep the fire going the entire time. We have a four-day period after someone passes away when their spirit travels to the next world. Firekeepers tend the fire for four nights and four days during Aanjikiing—that’s what the crossing-over journey is called. Takes lots of firewood to keep it going that long.” She smiles. “TJ was single then. We texted when I went back to school. Just friendly texts checking in with each other.” She blushes. “He invited himself to Oahu for spring break and something shifted between us.”
I wonder if Abe Charlevoix knows about Aanjikiing and firekeeping. It would be something to ask if I ever saw him again … not that I will. The ones coming for me thought nothing of hurting Nancy. What if I visit Misho Abe in Charlevoix and they follow me there?
How long before they find me at the casino hotel?
I change the subject. “What does TJ stand for?”
She laughs. “Toivo Jon. Toivo is a Finlander name. His dad is Finnish and Ojibwe. We call them Findians. Officially, TJ is Toivo Jon Kewadin the Third.”
“That’s a big name,” I say. “So if you marry TJ and have a baby boy, you’d have to name him Toivo Jon Kewadin the Fourth?”
Her cheeks go bright red against her ivory skin.
“Yeah. But TJ came up with a nickname. Teevo.”
“Like, Steve-O, the guy from Jackass?”
Daunis bursts out laughing. “More like, ‘It’s not TV, it’s TiVo.’ But I’ll tell TJ about the Steve-O thing.” Grinning, she shakes her head. “Poor future baby.”
Her expression changes. She looks toward the window, at the snowflakes floating as dreamily as carefree feathers. Soft like her voice now becomes.
“That will be another grief milestone. Having a baby who won’t know their grandparent in this newer new normal.”
I rise suddenly. Even my healthy leg quakes as I reach for the walker. I refuse to grief-bond with Daunis. She can sit in sadness all by her own damn self.
* * *
The next day, Daunis is back at it. Sharing stuff about herself in an attempt to bond with me. She talks about playing hockey.
“Jamie said you were good enough to be on the Olympic team,” I say.
“Oh, did he…” She grins before smoothing her face of emotion. “Who knows? An alternate universe. Just not this one.”