“No, come on, Izzy. Give the guy a chance. It was a year ago, for crying out loud, and it was one single kiss. It happened and then it was done. No harm, no foul. I have zero problem with you dating him because like I said, he’s a really good guy. And besides, he does the best renovation work and he’s truly loyal and honest about his intentions. I think you should definitely talk to him at the very least.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ll see.”
“That means no,” Jasper announced to our group.
“It does not,” I sighed.
He nodded. “I’ve known you almost my entire life. If you say the words we’ll see it means it’s not happening.”
I frowned and shrugged again. “How’s about we talk about something more interesting. Evie, Milo, tell us about your wedding next month. I’m excited it’s on a Native American reservation. I’ve never been on one.”
“Well, there’s this incredible spot, just past the rez, that leads up to the bluffs. You can see the horizon for miles and miles. We’ll be getting married there,” Evie said, dreamily looking into the fire.
“Sounds magical. Tell me more.”
Seven
Sitting cross-legged in one of Evie’s spare rooms, I tugged on the ribbon holding all the pink envelopes together. I’d moved the first one to the bottom of the stack. The next one had Isabeau 19th Birthday on the front in beautiful, elegant penmanship. I took a deep breath, opened the envelope and unfolded the pink parchment paper.
My little Kasaraibo,
Since we never spoke in person, I feel my letters to you would be best spent sharing more about my side of your heritage, including information about me, your grandparents and your sisters. Starting with your grandmother. Her name was Topsannah Tahsuda. She was the most beautiful woman inside and out. Her heart, mind and touch were as pure as snow. Like me, she was not long of this earth, dying even younger than I will be when the cancer inside me has won.
My mother was an excellent cook. Taught my father everything he knows about Native American cuisine because she knew she was fighting her own losing battle. She wanted him to be able to take care of himself, me and her grandchildren, sharing the food she loved. She also had a talent for sewing. I was always amazed at how she could make intricate, woven, Navajo-inspired blankets, many of which I’m sure your grandfather still has. My mother also had a unique and very special gift, something she shared with my father: the ability to read the stars. Let him tell you the story of meeting and finding his soul mate. It’s a tale I hope you’ll tell your own children one day. Though it will be better coming from him.
Anyway, she read in the stars that she would not live long. When I was born, she saw the same. Thankfully, your Toko has read the stars for all three of my children. You will all live long, glorious lives. However, that does not mean you won’t have strife and many sacrifices ahead. That, my darling girl, is unavoidable. We all have to sacrifice for the people we love. You were my biggest sacrifice.
Your grandfather is Tahsuda. When our people were required to secure official birth certificates from the government, the tribe’s people had to pick their last names. My father refused. He told them repeatedly, “I am Tahsuda.” When pressed, they ended up just putting his first name twice. He is not the type of man to let anyone demand anything of him. He is an elder in the Comanche tribe and highly respected. Mom’s family was Navajo so me and you girls are both Comanche and Navajo. Your Toko is a man of honor, loyalty and wisdom.
Since my parents knew I was not meant to live a long life, they encouraged me from a very young age to experience all that life had to offer. I didn’t want to live out my days on the reservation like my mother had. I wanted to feel the sand beneath my toes at the edge of the sea. I wanted to belly dance with the sisterhood until my feet hurt. I dreamed of seeing the world and all its glory and I did. But all of this beauty came with great price. I sacrificed time with Evie and Suda Kaye. In order to live, I had to leave my girls to be raised mostly by my father. Sometimes I deeply regretted my time away. At other times I knew my girls were loved, fed, sheltered and taken care of. They would have their time to live and I knew when I passed, l’d have my experiences and their love to guide me through eternity.
Which is how I’ll end this letter to you, my fire-haired daughter. If you learn one thing from me, let it be this.
Take chances. Love deeply and freely. Rewards are in the risks.
With all the love I have within me,
Catori.
I folded up the letter, put it back into the envelope and moved it to the bottom of the stack. My grandparents knew Catori was going to die young. They encouraged her to spread her wings and see the world, ensuring she didn’t miss out on any of her dreams.
I thought about her advice again, letting it roll around in my head.
Take chances.
Love deeply and freely.
Rewards are in the risks.
If Catori were here right now, what would she say about this crazy idea I had of starting a new life and getting to know my sisters?
Take chances. I grinned and bit into my bottom lip before whispering aloud, “She’d approve a hundredfold.”
And what about opening the bakery with Jasper? Dumping in tons of the money her husband left me to fulfill my dream? Rewards are in the risks. “She’d probably throw her hands up and cheer the same way Suda Kaye did,” I murmured to myself.
My phone buzzed with a text. I rolled over to the side and snagged it off the nightstand. Butterflies took flight in my stomach as I read the message.
Kyson: How does Thursday night dinner and a walk around town sound?
The last bit of advice. Love deeply and freely. “Catori would absolutely go on the date with Kyson,” I sighed. Regardless of her advice, I didn’t know if it was a good idea to go out with a man who had made out with my sister. I mean, sure, she’s married and super happy with Camden, but my seeing him was bound to be weird. And what about girl code? Didn’t it break some type of cosmic sisterhood rule?
Still feeling uncertain, I decided to get another thing off my mind by pulling back up my phone, finding my papa’s cell and hitting Call.
It rang only twice before my papa Ian answered. “Izzy! How are you, baby girl?”
I smiled and tugged at a loose string on my sleep shirt. “Hi, Papa. I’m good. Just woke up not long ago.”
“You still at Evie and Milo’s?” he asked conversationally.
“Yeah, but not for long.”
“Oh? You found a place already?” Leave it to my papa to be worried about my finding a home to settle into. Since he’d grown up bouncing from one foster home to another, he was huge on making a space your own as soon as possible. He believed it connected to your goals and happiness, and gave you a great sense of pride to know where you were going to lay your head at night.