All the Silva kids had moved out of Grace Valley, but they hadn’t gone far. The oldest, Maria, married a fisherman and moved to Humboldt Bay, where she worked as a nurse and raised her kids. Greg became a policeman in Redding, and Stuart Silva, the baby, joined the navy and went career, but he was still in California. None of the kids really wanted the farm, which was a source of some disappointment for Mikos, but he was quick to say he had chosen a path unlike his own father’s, and no one had complained over him.
It was possible Mikos was the sweetest, kindest man in the valley. He visited neighbors, took in sick animals, gave food baskets to poor families, wrote letters to lonely soldiers abroad. He was perpetually happy and generous. But a year ago he’d lost Mrs. Silva and since then, his very closest friends, like June and Elmer, could see that he was suffering more than grief. His health was failing. He was giving up.
He was seventy-eight and had worked hard all his life. He bore no ill will to the medical people who had been unable to save his wife from the scourge of cancer, but he wasn’t likely to take his own complaints to doctors, even though they were lifelong friends.
June had noticed on a recent visit that Mikos seemed a little short of breath, had a grayish pallor, and that his hands appeared swollen. So she had taken to stopping by more frequently, but the most he would allow was to have his blood pressure checked. It was high. She gave him medication, but it was obvious he wasn’t taking it.
She drove by his farm on the way home from the clinic and found him sitting on the porch. His collie, Sadie Five, stood beside his chair. She went to the porch edge and wagged, welcoming June. She was Mikos’s fifth collie.
“I’m sorry you go to such trouble, but I’m always happy to see you,” Mikos said.
“I’m happy to always see you, too. And Sadie.” June had left her bag in the Jeep; some things were better treated with kindness and respect than with tools and drugs. “My father is always telling me I need a dog.”
“He’s right, of course. We all need dogs. I have such trouble understanding people who go through life without them—except maybe busy people like you. I think you wonder what would I do with a dog?”
“That’s right, I do.”
“Ah, but the more accurate question is what would a dog do with you?”
“And the answer?” June urged.
“She would take very good care of you, I’m sure.”
Mikos sat in an old metal chair that squeaked when he moved. His legs were so short, his feet barely touched the porch floor. He might be all of five foot four, but the arms and shoulders on this little farmer were broad and hard and bore the strength of three men.
Beside him was a small table, a pitcher of tea, an extra glass. June sat in the other chair. He poured her a glass.
“Did you know I’d be coming?”
“I knew someone would be coming. It might as easily have been you. So, you have a new doctor.”
“John Stone. From the Bay Area. He has a specialty in OB-GYN as well as family medicine. The day he arrived we went out to Julianna Dickson’s house. It was quite an introduction to the town. He knows how we do things here now.” She laughed.
“That’s been two months,” Mikos said.
“Yes, and in that time John’s seen almost every woman in Grace Valley. He’s very handsome. Very charming.”
Mikos laughed. “As charming as me?”
“Not quite, but nearly.”
“It seems like you made a good choice with him, June. The women could use another handsome, charming man around here. It’ll take some of the pressure off me.” He grinned devilishly.
June sipped her tea. “How are you feeling?”
“Excellent,” he said. “Maria phoned earlier today and left a message. My granddaughter Beth is having a daughter.” He clicked his teeth and shook his head. “They can take pictures of the baby inside the mother and tell what sex it is, then phone you and tell your machine about it while you plow the fields. If anyone would have told me about this fifty years ago, I’d have called him crazy!”
“How wonderful for you! And tell Maria I send congratulations! When is the baby due?”
“In the fall. The first great-grandchild.”
June touched his hand. “I wish Mrs. Silva could see.”
“She will see. She will see.”
June was surprised to find Christina Baker in her examining room. She was now seven months pregnant, still underweight and anemic, and should be under the care of a specialist. According to her chart, she had seen John Stone twice, but had asked for her next appointment to be with June. John had run a number of tests, probably to be certain the source of Christina’s problems was simple anemia and not something more dangerous, but John had a lot to learn. Christina couldn’t pay for all this blood work and the sonogram, and the county might not, either. A clinic like this could be pauperized by indiscriminate testing.
“You don’t have much longer to wait for this baby,” June said. “Are you getting excited?”
“Um-hmm. We set up a crib in the pantry between the kitchen and porch, but the baby will probably sleep with us at first.”
“How did you like our new doctor? Dr. Stone?”
Christina’s gaze instantly dropped. June wondered if she had met the first person in town who didn’t automatically adore him.
“That’s not much of a recommendation,” June said, after listening to a few stretched-out seconds of silence. “He’s been very well received here by most.”
“I rather like seeing a woman doctor,” she said.
“I can understand that. But Christina, your weight is still low. Are you getting enough to eat?”
“Gary says I eat like a horse.”
“Are you ever hungry?”
“Hardly ever.” She shrugged.
“Okay. I’m going to give you a protein supplement. Mix it with milk and drink it twice a day. Get yourself a wire whisk and stir it up thick. It’s almost like a milk shake. It’ll help you fill out a little, make sure that baby has enough birth weight to go home from the hospital with you after he’s born.”
“Will it just put weight on the baby?”
“That’s my primary concern at the moment, but you could do with a couple of extra pounds. It’s normal for pregnant women to round out a little, Christina. In fact, it’s your obligation to do this for your baby.”
“I’ll do what I can, but I’ve always been on the slight side.”
“I was, too, when I was your age. We make the plump girls jealous, don’t we?” she asked, trying to coax a smile out of this young mother. “Then next month, I’d like you to see Dr. Stone. He’s an excellent specialist and—”
“Please, I don’t want to be Dr. Stone’s patient!”
“Christina, I understand your shyness, but the chances are better than fifty-fifty Dr. Stone or some other male doctor will deliver your baby, so it’s just as well to get acquainted with him.”
“I been acquainted with him and I don’t want to see him anymore!”
She was so adamant that June sank weakly onto her stool and found herself looking up at her young patient.
“Christina, is there something you’d like to tell me?”
“I don’t have anything more to say about it, except I want to have a woman doctor and that’s all.”
June chewed her lip. She didn’t want to put words in the girl’s mouth, but something was wrong here. Terribly wrong. June had checked John’s references, of course, but maybe it would be a good idea to get some more in-depth recommendations. Or warnings.
She said a silent prayer before she asked her next question. “I guess I don’t quite understand why you are so opposed to seeing Dr. Stone.”
“I just don’t like the way he touches me. Okay?”
June’s heart sank. She barely found the strength to stand up and leave the examining room—which she did only after being certain Christina had nothing more to add.
Tom had to do a little parent taxi
duty in the middle of the afternoon. Ursula, an eighth grade teacher, had parent conferences after school, and Tanya had a baby-sitting job following her volleyball match. Tom was to be the car service, taking her from the high school out to the Granger farm. He was early and used the opportunity to drive slowly around the high school parking lot and grounds, looking at the lay of the land, sniffing out any possible trouble. The place was nearly deserted; school had been out for two hours. The buses and most of the cars were gone except for those teachers, coaches and students who stayed late for meetings, activities, practices and games.
Another year, he thought, and Tanya can do her own driving around. In fact, she can drive the younger kids to all their stuff. And pick up a few things at the store, and run a few errands, and fill up the tank, and get Grandma to Rockport for her American Women meeting, and… He frowned. And drive around the back roads too fast, park and make out, stay out too late, go to those secret teen drinking parties in the woods…. He said to himself, “Don’t borrow trouble. She’s a good girl, just growing up beautiful and making Daddy nervous.” He felt the beginning of a smile…that froze.
He saw the bright red of Tanya’s sweatshirt just peeking out from behind one of the school’s pillars at the side exit to the parking lot. He let the Range Rover silently move forward until she came into view, and he saw that she was covered by a lanky boy who had her pressed against the pillar while they kissed. It was Tanya’s sweatshirted arm holding the boy that Tom could see. And some of her long, silky black hair, which hung almost to her waist.
It wasn’t just any boy, it was Tom’s worst nightmare. Frank Craven. Abused and poor and angry Frank.
Tom laid on the horn with a solid long blast, startling the kids apart. Frank composed himself quickly and glared at the police chief in the Range Rover. Tanya gave her dad a wave, then put the hand against Frank’s cheek, turned his face back to her and gave him a quick peck on the lips before grabbing her backpack and heading for the car.
“Well, that was pretty embarrassing, Daddy,” she said when she jumped in.
“Tell me about it,” he replied. “I’m glad I was alone.”
“I thought we were alone!”
Tom drove a little. He was comfortable with quiet, but he knew he’d better not indulge too much of that. “How long, Tan?”
“What?”
“How long has Frank been your boyfriend?”
“I don’t know. Awhile.”
“In weeks or months, please.”
“Since Christmas or so. Or I guess since Homecoming.”
“Jesus.”
“You praying over us?”
“Tanya, why didn’t you tell anyone? Why is it a secret?”
“It’s not, Daddy. Not really. It’s just that the only time we could ever be together was at school. And Frank wasn’t allowed to make phone calls. You know why. Because of that monster of a father he has.”
“Who is now locked up,” Tom reflected. “But not forever, you know.”
“Oh, we know.”
“Tanya, Frank is troubled.”
“Wouldn’t you be?” she shot back.
“It isn’t good, him being your boyfriend.”
“It’s too late, he already is. We like each other, Daddy. He’s a good guy.”
“He’s got issues that go back generations.”
She laughed, but not really in amusement. Not meanly, either, but hollowly, as though in surprise. “Well hell, like the Cherokee have no issues! Or the Navajo!”
“I’m talking about domestic issues, Tanya, not cultural ones. I’ve seen the angry spark in that boy’s eyes and I’m afraid of what he’ll become, if he hasn’t become violent already. I’m afraid he’ll hurt you.”
“He won’t hurt me, Dad.”
“You can’t know that for sure.”
“I do know it. I do. And if he ever acted mean to me, that would be it. It would be over forever.”
“He’s in counseling for fighting.”
“I know. That’s a good thing, don’t you think?”
“Have you talked to your mother about this? About Frank?”
“No, but I think I will now. Because you obviously can’t wait to tell her.”
I dread to tell her.
“Just don’t get any ideas,” she said. “You know, about restricting me or telling me I can’t like him or anything like that.”
He sighed. “Tanya, I am filled with ideas.”
“Well, you know how that works. You put the clamps down, I want him more. Right? So don’t try any of that stuff. Just leave me alone about it. It’s my business.”
“Oh brother.”
“And don’t get Grandma and Grandpa all worked up about this, because you know how they are. Grandma’s secretly working on my arranged marriage, and I don’t think it’s to a blond-haired Craven.”
“Tanya…”
“If you weren’t so nosey—”
“Tan…”
“Honestly! Sneaking around the parking—”
Tom slammed on the brakes and skidded quite a ways down the country road. Tanya was flung hard into her seat belt, and when she turned to look at her father, her eyes were large and round with surprise. He turned in the driver’s seat and leaned over the console that separated them. He appeared to be a little larger than usual and she was reminded that, although Tom Toopeek seemed stoic, methodical and mostly gentle, he did have another side. A rarely seen side.
“Be sure your tone is respectful, Tanya. You were cavorting in public, that’s how I saw you. It was shameful. Your mother would have been appalled. You should be punished for that behavior, but I’ll let it go. This time. And I will tell you this, Frank Craven has serious problems and he needs help to sort them out. If, during this time that he’s trying to redirect his life, he hurts you in any way, he will have to answer to me!”
Tanya’s eyes became moist and she touched his arm. “Daddy…” she squeaked.
Tom shifted and began to drive again. “I think maybe you’d better tell Frank that,” he said, his voice much more controlled. His rages were rare, and they were always quickly spent.
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she said softly. “I’ll be careful.”
“And from now on, more honest than you have been. Careful and honest.”
“Yes, Daddy. I will.”
“That is all your mother and I have asked of you.”
The rest of the way to the Granger farm there was no more talking, only occasional sniffing from Tanya’s side of the car. When Tom pulled up to the farmhouse, Tanya started to reach for her backpack, but he grabbed her wrist. This time his voice was gentler. “Tanya, you are my pride and your mother’s jewel. You must respect yourself as much as we love you.”
She nodded her head solemnly and left him alone in the car, alone with the burden of his fears for her. If she thought he was nosey before, she hadn’t seen anything yet.
Nine
“Something serious is bothering the good doctor,” said Corsica Rios.
“A woman carries her troubles in her hands,” Birdie Forrest explained to Jessica.
Ursula Toopeek whispered to Jessica, “Not in her palms, but in her fingers. More specifically, her fingertips.” Ursula’s mother-in-law, Philana Toopeek, nodded vigorously. Philana was a woman of very few and always carefully chosen words.
The hardest place ever to be with a secret was the quilting circle. As the women worked the needles and tugged on the fabric, pulling at the edges of the quilt, they could feel the tension in each other’s stitches and hands. Almost everyone in the circle was expected to use some sort of job-related discretion. But among these longtime, trusted friends, it was hard to keep quiet about a personal issue that was longing to be freed, to be shared.
It was an odd and fabulous quilting circle, the Graceful Women. June’s mother, Marilyn, had been in it all her married years till her death of heart failure nine years ago. The oldest member now—the grande dame—was Birdie Forrest, Judge’s wife.
Birdie had been Marilyn’s best friend and was June’s godmother. The next in line of seniority was Philana Toopeek, Tom’s mother. Marilyn and Birdie had brought her in about thirty years ago. Corsica Rios had joined them over twenty years ago, when she was a single mother and student. She was now a county social worker. It was June who had invited Tom’s wife, Ursula, a teacher. And then, as an experiment, Jessica—an experiment that had worked.
It wouldn’t have occurred to most people to invite a twenty-year-old Goth into a quilting circle of older women. But one day at the clinic, after modeling the latest in her fashion craze—a floor-length black skirt with a slit to the thigh, black sweater, black hose and Doc Martens—Jessica had admitted she’d sewn the skirt. But of course, June had thought. The girl would have to sew to come up with her many avant-garde outfits. She was motherless, and would have had to figure it all out on her own. So June brought her to the circle, where five women pitched in on the nurturing of Jessica, and Jessica stitched on something that was not quite so bizarre for a change.
Jessica had a rather special loyalty to June, and said in her defense, “It’s been a very busy week in the clinic.”
“It has been. But actually, I was missing my mother,” June said.
Philana cleared her throat, but didn’t look up from the quilt. “A woman misses her mother when she has problems with a man or a child.”
“That’s simple,” Ursula interjected. “The handsome new doctor is drawing women patients from three counties.”
“He’s a strange one,” Birdie said.
June had to concentrate to keep her head from snapping up at attention.
“Strange how?” Ursula asked.
“He has this oblivious nature. Always positive, always devastatingly gay.”
Jessica laughed so loudly and suddenly, that her colorful Mohawk wobbled.
“He’s a huge phony, don’t you think, June?” Birdie asked.
“I hadn’t thought that, really….”
“I’m sure he’s a very good doctor just the same, but the way he’s always so charmed by everything… It’s nonsense. Maybe he’s covering something.”