Shaxoa's Gift (10 page)

Sophia nodded her head and gestured toward
the door. “Let’s get going then. I don’t want the enchiladas to
burn because you’re dawdling around.”

I hurried to the door and held it open for
Sophia. The short distance to the car was covered without either of
us speaking. I slipped into her sensible four door sedan, hoping
that she didn’t mind how dirty I was. Sophia was fastidious when it
came to keeping things clean. To her credit, she didn’t even glance
at the bits of hay and manure clinging to my jeans.

Sophia pulled onto the dirt road and looked
over at me. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” I said. I didn’t think she was really
asking me about my health. She had already deemed me fully
recovered. Sophia altered her question.

“How are you feeling about going home?”

I thought about Lina’s earlier words when she
referred to Sophia taking me to “my parent’s house.” I needed the
same separation. I wasn’t going back there until Uriah came home,
and maybe not even then. “I’m fine going back to my parent’s
house,” I said casually. “I really only need a few things.”

Sophia’s eyebrow rose slightly. She must have
caught the emphasis in my words. “That’s good,” she said. She kept
watching me out of the corner of her eye. “I’ll go in with you if
you don’t mind. I have something I needed to ask your mother.”

I doubted whether she had anything to discuss
with my mom. I was sure that she really just wanted to make sure I
didn’t have some kind of breakdown if my dad was there. “I don’t
mind,” I said.

I had kept my voice as casual as I could, but
when my house came into view, my hands clenched together. My dad’s
truck wasn’t in the driveway, but it could have been in the garage.
Putting confidence in my mom’s ability to keep things under control
if he was there, I forced my hands to relax. I opened the car door
confidently when Sophia rolled to a stop.

Sophia led the way, walking briskly up to the
hardwood double doors. I nearly ran to keep up with her. I didn’t
want to look scared coming back to my own house. Sophia’s knock was
answered immediately by my mom. Her smile looked strained. I tried
to puzzle out whether there was any deeper reason aside from the
obvious for her strange expression as she hugged me tightly.

“How are you feeling, Claire,” my mom
asked.

“I’m fine, Mom.” How many times was I going
to have to answer that question?

“Sophia mentioned you didn’t sleep well,” she
said. Her red eyes hinted at tears already shed.

“There’s a lot on my mind, that’s all,” I
said.

My mom nodded and pulled me inside. Sophia
followed quietly. We walked back to my room, my mom practically
pushing me down the hall. I felt strange staring at my belongings
and not feeling at home. My backpack sat calmly on my bed. The
perfectly made bedspread dimpled with the weight of it. Walking
over to the bag, I touched it softly. A sudden feeling of finality
washed over me. I felt like taking the bag meant I might never come
back. The sensation shocked and bewildered me. Could this really be
the end of this being my home? I wasn’t sure whether that idea
bothered me or thrilled me.

“I tried to think of what you might need,” my
mom said. “You might want to look through and see if I missed
anything.”

The tremor in her voice was obvious, but I
forced myself to ignore it. It had to be killing her that I chose
to be away from her when I should have needed my mother the most.
She had always been the one to comfort me when I cried growing up,
or the one to tell me things would work out when I was sure they
wouldn’t. I could use some of her comfort and strength, but I
needed to be where I could feel Uriah the strongest.

“Thank you, Mom.”

To my surprise, my mom and Sophia began
backing away. Seeing the question in my eyes, my mother said,
“We’ll give you a few minutes to finish packing.”

The emptiness of the room was oppressive. I
tore open the bag and searched its contents. All the necessities
were there, clothes, toothbrush, and makeup. But what I really
needed was missing. Searching my desk and shelves, I gathered every
memento and reminder I had of Uriah, and set them on the bed.

I went to the closet in search of my old
backpack. I knew it was most likely buried beneath a box of old
clothes I had been meaning to give to my cousin Allison. It took
some shuffling, but I found the bag and pulled it out. Turning back
to the bed, I stopped cold.

9: Home

My dad stood in my doorway looking pensive.
His arms folded across his chest in his usual domineering manner,
but for once I could see a shiver of uncertainty and fear in his
stance. “Claire,” my dad said, “you’re leaving again? You’re not
coming home?”

I felt sweat bead up on my face. Anger was
closing in quickly, but the fear of having to confront him now,
when I was so fragile, kept it from winning over completely. That
didn’t mean I cowered in front of him, though.

“What do you want?” My voice was acid, the
words slipping out through gritted teeth.

His mouth twitched at the corner. He tried to
hold on to his stoic demeanor, but the effort became too much for
him. Clenching his jaw didn’t keep his mouth from trembling.
“Claire, please, you need to stay here. You can’t go back to Uriah.
Don’t wait for him.”

I was too stunned to even respond. The only
emotions I was used to seeing come from my father were anger or
disapproval. His soft words were surprising. Was he really still
asking me to turn my back on Uriah, though? Wasn’t the fact that
Uriah had risked his life to save me from what my dad had done
enough to prove to him that Uriah loved me and would never do
anything to hurt me? What was even more surprising than him holding
to his hatred of Uriah was the fact that he said please. Trying to
remember my dad ever using that word, even to my mom, I found
nothing and knew that he was begging, desperate to get me to agree.
I had always thought he simply hated Uriah. Why? I had no idea, but
there was fear in his eyes as he asked me to change my mind. Even
seeing that, his request infuriated me.

My fists balled up in anger. What right did
he have to ask me to do anything he wanted? He nearly killed me! I
was being yanked back and forth in opposite directions, desperately
fighting to keep control of my own life because of him, and he had
the gall to ask me to do this? I could hardly believe he was
actually serious. I had every right to be angry with him, to hate
him even. If I
ever
did something he asked me to, it would
be when he came crawling back to me begging my forgiveness for
everything he had ever done to me, not simply because he asked me.
Even if he did ever admit his fault in all of this, I still
couldn’t imagine myself ever doing a single thing he wanted. I
never wanted to look at him again. I wanted to escape his begging
eyes, but I could not force my foot to take the first step.

“Why?” It slipped out against my will. I did
not want to have this conversation, but it might have been my only
chance to get an even somewhat honest answer out of my dad. I
couldn’t turn away from the opportunity. “Why did you do it?”

His jaw firmed, but his expression remained
tortured. “I was trying to help you. I thought I was doing what was
best for you.”

I completely lost my cool. “Best for me! Are
you kidding me! You have never done what was best for me. All you
ever think about is what’s best for
you
.”

The surprise on his face was laughable. Did
he really think that I took his comments and plans as anything but
what they really were?

“Claire, I promise, I was only thinking of
you. I had no idea the potion would hurt you,” he said. “Zarafen
said it would only make you forget Uriah. She said you would be
fine!”

His hand reached toward me, but I slapped it
away. “You’re a liar, Dad. Why would you think taking Uriah away
from me would help me? You didn’t want me to be with him because it
would mess up your plan to marry me off to some rich guy who would
better your business prospects,” I said. “You have never cared
about me. You don’t even love me.”

Letting his hand fall back to his side, my
dad stared at me. “Of course I love you, Claire. How can you say
that I don’t?”

“You’re serious?” I asked. I shook my head in
wonder at what he was saying. “When was the last time you told me
you loved me?”

His eyes lowered as he searched his memories.
“I’m sure I’ve told you that I loved you recently. I tell you all
the time.”

“I can’t think of a single time that you’ve
ever told me you loved me, Dad. Not once.” He shook his head,
denying my words. “Never,” I said. “Sure, you tell me how beautiful
you think I am, how my beauty will win me a rich husband, how my
looks will bring honor to our family name, but never that you
actually loved me, your own daughter.”

“But, I do, Claire. I do love you. I always
have,” he said.

“Then why did you do this to me?” Tears were
rolling down my cheeks, but I made no move to wipe them away. I
needed an answer.

“I couldn’t let you marry him, Claire, I
couldn’t,” he said. He lifted his chin in defiance.

“Why do you hate him so much?” I asked. I had
my theories, but now I wanted the truth, once and for all.

“I don’t hate him. Uriah is a good kid, one
of the best young men I’ve ever met,” my dad said. Looking away
from me, my dad scrubbed at his forehead wearily with one hand.

“What?” The word barely made it past my
shock.

“I don’t have anything against him, honestly,
but I couldn’t let you marry him,” he said. “He was pulling you
into his life and I couldn’t let that happen, Claire. He would only
bring you pain. You don’t deserve that. You are
my
daughter.
I had to protect you!”

His words had come out in a rush, and I was
still struggling to comprehend everything he had said. “Protect me
from what? I love him, Dad. Uriah is the only thing that has ever
made me truly happy. Taking him away from me is what will hurt me.
Don’t you understand that? And he will make a wonderful husband and
father. You can’t think you’re protecting me from him.”

“I’m sure he will be a great companion for
someone, but you can’t stay with him. You aren’t meant to be a part
of his life! And I know you love him, Claire. The first day I saw
you together in the kitchen I saw it in your eyes that you already
loved him. You love him more than I have ever seen someone love
another person. That’s the problem. Don’t you understand?” he
asked. He was pleading with me to see his point of view, but I felt
like I had just fallen into Alice’s rabbit hole.

“What are you talking about?”

“If you love him, you’ll follow him.”

“Follow him where?” I asked.

“To places you shouldn’t.” He shook his head
in frustration. “Why do you think I married your mother? I left the
pueblo and married an outsider so this would never happen! It
shouldn’t have happened. You’re not even full Tewa. You should have
been protected.”

His rambling only confused me more, but one
thought sank into my chest like a knife. “You only married Mom
because you thought you had to? Did you love her at all?”

My father’s expression crumbled. “When I met
your mother, I fell in love with her the first time I saw her. I
couldn’t believe it when she agreed to go out with me. I proposed
two months later and we were married within weeks,” he babbled.
“Yes, I love her, but even if I hadn’t fallen in love, I would have
found an outsider to marry. I was so sure it would keep this from
happening.”

“What are you talking about? What did you
think was going to happen, that I’d marry a rancher and be happy?
Was that what you had to protect me from?” I demanded.

“I was protecting you from things you will
never understand,” he said. Folding his arms across his chest, he
took a defensive stance.

The slap resounded loudly in the small room.
My dad’s eyes were wide with shock. His hand reached up to feel his
stinging cheek. I stared at my own hand, surprised that I had
struck him. The surprise didn’t last long.

“You almost killed me for something you won’t
even bother to explain,” I hissed. “My whole life you have treated
me like a piece of merchandise to trade. I finally find some
happiness in my life and you want to take it away because you think
I’m too stupid to understand your secrets?”

“I don’t think you’re stupid, Claire,” he
said. “I just know more about this than you do. Trust me when I say
that Uriah is not the right man for you.”

“I don’t trust you, and I won’t turn my back
on Uriah. You have no right to ask me to do that.” I didn’t care
what knowledge and power he thought he had. I had never been one to
bow down to his supposed greatness, and I wasn’t going to start
now. I turned away from him, but he grabbed my arm and held me in
place.

“Please, Claire, I’m begging you. Stay here.
Don’t go back to Uriah’s house.”

“Tell me why,” I said. “The only hope you
have of making me understand is to tell why you would risk my life
to stop me from marrying Uriah. You should know by now I won’t do
it just because you tell me I should. Explain, or I’m leaving.”

“I can’t,” he said, falling down to his
knees. Any traces of arrogance or pride were gone. He was on his
knees, begging me to give up the man I loved more than anything
without an explanation. Tears slipped down his dark skin. “I never
meant to hurt you. I only wanted to see you happy and safe,
sitsi.”

Sitsi. Daughter.

“Don’t ever call me that again,” I said
angrily. “If I was truly your daughter you would have treated me
like one. You had no right to do what you did. Obviously whatever
made you think you had to marry an outsider didn’t pan out, because
I still fell in love with Uriah anyway. I have no idea why that’s
so wrong, but doesn’t that prove to you that maybe you don’t know
everything? You can’t force me into a life I don’t want. I will
choose my future, nobody else.”