“Let’s eat!” I declared, sitting down and scooping up a giant spoonful of ice cream.
Samuel laughed right out loud, a rich rumble that echoed in my heart.
“What?” I said, my mouth full of ice cream.
“You make me laugh.”
“Why?”
“You’re this beautiful girl, blond curls, big blue eyes. You always wear dresses and paint your toenails and you’re completely old fashioned - books, music, you name it…you’re completely all girl. I just didn’t expect you to dig in like that. You did the same thing earlier tonight at the pond. You like food. I thought for sure you’d put a napkin on your lap and eat very small spoonfuls like a dainty little lady.”
“Lady, schmady,” I giggled. “I love to eat. That’s why I run every morning. Otherwise, I might grow to be very voluptuous and rubenesque.”
“I’m not sure what rubenesque means exactly, but I’m sure it would look good on you.” Samuel dug in to his bowl as well, and we enjoyed our ice cream in silence, until the last of the hot fudge sauce was scraped away. I restrained myself from licking my bowl. Samuel didn’t.
“That was unbelievable sauce,” he said appreciatively.
“Yep! My mom’s own recipe. It’s an original.”
I washed our bowls, and Samuel wandered in to the family room and sat on the piano bench, watching me through the narrow door opposite the kitchen sink.
“Will you come with me to see my grandma?”
“Nettie?” I questioned, confused.
“No. I want you to come to Arizona with me and meet my Grandma Yazzie.”
My eyes flew to his face, and I could see from the firm set of his wide mouth that he was serious.
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“But…I have to work at the shop tomorrow and…how long would we be gone?”
“Your aunt wouldn’t let you go?”
“Of course she would. I don’t have anything scheduled. I would just be there for walkins.”
“Dilcon is over 700 miles away. We’d need an entire day of driving each way, and I want to stay for three days in between. So five days. Tomorrow is Saturday. We’d be back late on Wednesday night. Could you arrange it?”
I bit my lip as I mulled it over. I was so tempted. The long hours of driving were incredibly enticing - conversation with Samuel was always enlivening, and the thought of listening to music and talking for hours on end with him were more than I could pass up. My dad was gone. He wouldn’t be calling home - cell phone reception wasn’t available where he was going. I would have to cancel my piano lessons - but the loss of revenue wouldn’t hurt me. What did I have to spend my money on anyway? I guess I hesitated a moment too long.
“Please, Josie?” His voice was insistent. “I want you to meet her. I’ve told her about you. You’ll love her.”
I turned to face him. “Alright. I’ll go. I’ve always wanted to meet her. But!” I held up one finger as a stipulation, “I can’t leave bright and early. I have to call my students and Louise -”
“Call them on the way, Josie. Bring your cell phone. I’ll pick you up at 6:00 a.m.”
So much for ‘please Josie.’ Bossy Samuel was back. Bossy really wasn’t the right word. He was more blunt and plain-spoken, but calling him bossy made me feel better when he started giving orders. He continued on:
“I want to get to the reservation before dark. It’s hard enough to find Grandma’s hogan in the daytime. And she could be anywhere. I called the trading post when I got back stateside and left a message for her. I told her to plan on me this weekend. I got word to her through the man that works at the trading post. I called him today, and he said she’d been in with one of her rugs. He gave her the message for me.”
“Is that how you communicate?” I said incredulously.
“It works. Grandma doesn’t read or write, and she doesn’t have a phone.”
I felt a frisson of unease that this meeting might be very awkward. Talk about two different worlds. Samuel must have seen something in my face, because he stood and walked to where I still stood, leaning against the sink. He reached out and ran a hand lightly down my cheek.
“Don’t worry. Grandma is easy to love. Just think of it as an adventure.”
I smiled tremulously.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, his voice husky.
“I promise to pack some jeans and boots,” I said with a grimace. I’d given up wearing my Wranglers and hand me down tshirts long ago. I still had them (who doesn’t in Levan?) but they weren’t my preference.
“My grandma wears a skirt every day too….but, yeah. You might want to bring some jeans, unless you have a big long pioneer skirt you like riding a horse in,” he teased. He slipped quietly out the door, and I heard the truck start up and drive away.
I sped up the stairs and started throwing stuff in my suitcase. It was almost 10:00. I would never be able to sleep. My heart thudded in anticipation.
18. Oratorio
I slept restlessly, getting up to repack my bag several times. I’d never been on an indian reservation. I had no idea what I’d need. I woke up before the alarm and laid there feeling tired and wishing I hadn’t agreed to go, wondering what had initiated such a bone-headed move. Actually, I knew why I was going; if I was being honest with myself it was strictly to spend time with Samuel, which again was completely moronic. Samuel would leave again. Soon. And I would be back here again. Soon.