• Monday, August 22 •
Home of Nathan and
Grace Active, Chukchi
The front door opened and, then clicked shut after a few seconds. Lucky uncorked a high-pitched howl, followed by a burst of frenzied yips.
“Shhhhhh, shhhhhh,” Nita hissed as she tried to corral the leaping terrier. She froze as the living room lights flicked on. The clock on the wall said five minutes before midnight.
Nathan and Grace faced her, shoulder to shoulder, arms folded.
Lucky paced in tight circles and panted.
“Guess you forgot about our new burglar alarm,” Grace said. “Sit, little girl.”
“I’m not a lit—” Nita protested.
“A good time to keep quiet, Nita,” Active said.
She plopped onto the couch, clutched her phone to her chest, and pressed her knees together.
Grace stood over her, hands on hips, feet planted. “It’s almost midnight. Where were you?”
“At Stacy’s.” Nita looked sideways.
“Really. Doing what?”
Nita huffed and drew her arms tighter across her chest. “Nothing. Listening to music, playing games and stuff.”
“And stuff? Did we not discuss while we were having dinner with Officer Kavik that it was too late for you to go back out?”
“You discussed. I didn’t. What’s the big deal?”
Active sat down next to Nita. Lucky curled against her foot, eyes darting from one agitated human to the next.
“Listen, kiddo, you’ve got school tomorrow,” Active said. “And more importantly, we don’t want you wandering around at night by yourself, especially when we don’t know where you are. I’m a cop, remember? Bad things can happen. I’ve seen ’em.”
“Nothing happened, and I’m not a kid.”
“You’re thirteen,” Grace fired back. “And that makes you a kid. And for the next two weeks, you are not leaving this house except for school.”
The girl’s mouth dropped open. “I’m grounded? The dance is next week, Mom. Arii, that’s totally unfair!”
“And you can hand over that phone right now.” Grace put out her hand. “No more texting with Stacy all night. Like I wasn’t supposed to know about that either.”
“You can’t take my phone. That’s a violation of my free speech!” Nita turned to Active with tearful eyes. “Tell her she can’t do that.”
Active air-pushed in the universal code for “take it down a notch.”
“Actually, the phone is in my name, and we’re your parents,” Grace said. “So we can do that, and we are doing it.” She bent forward and snatched the phone.
Nita collapsed into full-on wailing.
“You’re not my parents!” she sobbed. “Why can’t I have a real mom and dad?” She buried her face in her hands and her shoulders started to heave.
Grace sat down beside her on the opposite side from Active, put her arms around the crying girl and stroked her hair. “Honey, you do have a real mom and dad.”
Nita raised her tear-streaked face but avoided eye contact. “I’m not blood, not like the baby.” She paused a moment, catching her breath. “Stacy says being adopted isn’t any better than being a foster kid like him. It’s like I’m an orphan dog you took in, same as Lucky.” She jumped up and darted into her bedroom. The dog shot through the door just before it slammed shut.
Grace and Active stared at each other across the empty space where Nita had been.
When Grace spoke, her voice shook. “How can I tell her that I am her real mother? I mean, the next question . . .”
“As in, ‘Who is my father?’”
“Exactly. And I can’t tell her that.”
Her shoulders slumped and she spoke through gulping sobs. “Or why my sister killed herself and I ended up on the street—doing what I did—and . . .” She buried her face in her hands.
“Or that your mom—” Nathan said, stopping himself too late.
“That she what?” Grace’s head was up now, eyes blazing through tears. “You mean that she took the blame for killing the bastard while she was dying of cancer to keep me out of jail?”
And there it was, the answer to the unspoken and unanswerable question that had always hovered over them like a ghost: Who did he really think had killed Jason Palmer?
He pushed into the sofa and thought back to the day Grace had come home from Anchorage’s notorious Four Street, the day her father was found shot to death in his office at Chukchi High, with all the evidence pointing to her. She was arrested and charged, but there had never been a trial. It had all been washed away when Ida Palmer, dying of cancer, was pushed into the courtroom in a wheelchair to confess to killing Jason Palmer, so he wouldn’t do to Nita what he had done to his own daughters.
Active had loved Grace, even then, before he’d fully realized it. Had it kept him from facing the truth about a murder? Was it still?
The Chukchi city police chief at the time had put it in a nutshell during a post-mortem with Active when the case was over: “What kind of mother, if she’s dying anyway, isn’t gonna lie to keep her daughter from going to prison for killing the guy who raped her?”
“Well?” Grace said.
Who did he really think had killed Jason Palmer?
“I don’t know,” he said finally. “Some questions you just have to live with, I guess.” He kissed her and she buried her face in his shoulder.
“I don’t want Nita to have to carry all that history around with her,” Grace said. “Like I do.” She sat up. “Or the new baby. Am I putting another child through all of this? I don’t think I could stand to—”
She collapsed back into his shoulder with a long sigh. Active stroked her arm.
“I don’t have the answers, baby. But I know you’ll figure it out. We will.”
“I guess I should start seeing Nelda again.”
“Always seemed like it helped before.”
“You know, she supposedly comes from a long line of woman angatquqs.”
“Wherever she comes from, she’s a very wise lady.”
“If I talk to her about Nita and me, I don’t know, maybe it’ll all come clear, what to do.” She patted her belly and studied it for a moment. “And about the baby and us, too.” She was silent, then squeezed his hand. “I wasn’t ready to have this child.”
Active swallowed hard. “I know. And now?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I’m not not ready.”
Active frowned and abandoned the effort to navigate the labyrinths of the female psyche. Especially the pregnant female psyche. Hadn’t this been decided before he’d made the big announcement to Martha?
“But Nita,” Grace went on. “She’s definitely not ready for this. She’s still finding her place between you and me. A baby right now would—”
Nita’s phone buzzed in Grace’s hand. They looked at the screen to see a grinning teenager with a short Mohawk, deep dimples and a crooked front tooth.
“He is cute,” Grace said.
The buzzing stopped and a text dinged in.
ruok? miss u. miss me? the message read.
Nita raced in with Lucky at her heels. Grace powered down the phone. Nita stared at it, then at Grace, then at Active, but said nothing. She looked ready to start bawling and bolt for her room again at any moment.
“Hey, kiddo.” Active patted the space between himself and Grace. “Come, sit with us. Let’s talk.”
Nita hesitated, then sat down and drew in her arms and legs so that she didn’t touch either grown-up. “About what?”
“About you and us and the baby,” Grace said. “You don’t feel like you belong in this family?”
“Your family is who you grow up with,” Nita said. “I was already eleven when you adopted me.”
“Oh, bunnik,” said Grace. “There are two kinds of families, the one you’re born into and the one you choose. We’ll all be the family the baby is born into. But you, Nathan, me—we’re the family who chose each other.”
“But it’s different.”
“How?”
“If you were my real mom, I would be a part of you, because I came out of you. Blood is thicker than water. That’s what Stacy says.”
Grace looked at Active with fear in her eyes, swallowed hard, and took a deep breath. She looked at Nita. “Suppose I was your mother from birth.”
Nita frowned. “But you’re not.”
Grace closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“You’re part of my heart. There’s no way I could love you more. Blood, water, it doesn’t matter. Only love matters.”
Nita paused. “Will I be the baby’s stepsister or adopted sister?”
“You’ll be the baby’s big sister. And you’ll be great.” Grace threw her arms around Nita. The girl stiffened but didn’t pull away. “You know what? I have an ultrasound this week. Would you like to come with me?”
Nita shrugged and looked at the floor. “What for?”
“To get a look at your little sister or brother’s heartbeat.”
Nita shot a sideways glance at Grace with a skeptical frown. “You can see a heartbeat?”
“You can. It’ll be a little pulse on the screen as the doctor moves the ultrasound wand across my tummy. So, you wanna come?”
Nita stretched a palm out to Lucky where he lay at her feet, head cocked as though taking in every word. The terrier licked the tips of her fingers. The girl shrugged again. “I guess so. But I’m kind of, like, grounded.” She looked up at Grace and rolled her eyes.
Grace’s face relaxed a little. Active couldn’t tell if it was maternal tenderness or amusement at Nita’s theatrics. Both, most likely.
“I’ll make an exception in this case,” she said.
Nita returned the smile and it turned into a huge yawn. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” She stood up and brushed a strand of hair off her face. “Can I have my phone back?”
“Not until morning,” Grace said.
“Am I still grounded for two whole weeks?”
Grace exchanged a look with Active. “Yes.”
“But the dance,” Nita whined.
“Two weeks,” Grace repeated.
“But, M-o-o-om!”
“Two weeks,” Grace and Active said in unison.
Nita stamped off to her room. Lucky trotted behind.
“Good night, sweetie,” Grace called out.
Grace slid up against Active and laid her head on his shoulder.
He slumped back against the couch. “Hey, it’s pretty late, and we both have work tomorrow. How about we get back to bed?”
“I’m too wound up for sleep. Maybe some herbal tea?”
“Sure.”
A few minutes later, they sat at the kitchen table, Active staring into his cup and trying to keep his eyes open, Grace sipping with a faraway look.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked.
“At least it’ll be thirteen years before we have another teenager in the house.”
Active laughed. “Amen to that.”