Read Online Spider Woman's Daughter by Anne Hillerman - Free Book Online

wasn’t ready to talk about it.
    Mama squeezed back, then gave Bernie news of her niece, a sweet girl Mama actually considered another daughter. She was expecting a baby later that summer. Mama never directly brought up the idea of Bernie becoming a mother, but Bernie felt the unasked question lurking in the corners of their conversations.
    When Mama said she had to use the bathroom, Bernie took her arm and eased her from the couch. She was as light as old bones baked in the sun. Mama shuffled along in her socks, using Bernie to keep her balance. Bernie had asked Darleen to make sure Mama put on her shoes to reduce the risk of falling. Where was Darleen?
    Bernie helped Mama with her pants and left her to her privacy. Down the hall, the door to Darleen’s room stood open. Bernie noticed empty beer cans in a corner.
    It looked as though a crew of burglars had rummaged everywhere, except for Darleen’s desk, on which she’d neatly stacked papers, drawings that reminded Bernie of the art you’d see in comic books. She looked at the one on top, a nice sketch of a young man and young woman. Funny that her sister was so messy, but her artwork so meticulous.
    Bernie heard the crunch of a car’s tires on their gravel road. She walked back to the living room just as Darleen came in.
    Darleen looked pale, puffy in the face. She frowned at Bernie. “I see you finally made it.”
    “Sister,” Bernie said. “I thought you’d be here with Mama.”
    When Darleen walked closer, Bernie smelled alcohol.
    “I thought you’d be here,” Darleen countered. “You told me you’d drive up right after breakfast. I had things to do. I was counting on you.”
    “We almost had a fire on the stove.” Bernie glared at Darleen. “I think Mama was cooking and forgot to turn off the heat.”
    “You told me you’d be here sooner.”
    “Something happened at work,” Bernie said. “I had to—”
    Bernie noticed a stoop-shouldered young man standing in the doorway, watching them. She looked at him, back at Darleen.
    “He’s my friend.” Bernie waited for more. When nothing came, she turned to the man, probably in his midtwenties. “I’m Bernie, Darleen’s sister. Please come in.”
    “Charley Zah.” He stayed on the porch, staring at her uniform.
    “I drove from work,” Bernie said. She heard the toilet flush.
    “Darleen told me you were a cop,” he said. “Cool.”
    “Mama’s in the bathroom,” Bernie said. “I need to see if she can use some help.”
    “I just came back for my hat,” Darleen said. “And, uh, to make sure you got here okay.” She grabbed her cap from the walker.
    “Stay awhile,” Bernie said. “We need to talk.”
    “It’s my day off, remember?” Darleen glanced at Stoop Boy. “We made plans.”
    “We have to talk, Sister.” Bernie leaned on the have to.
    “You already cheated me out of some of my day,” Darleen said. “If you wanna talk, text me.”
    The toilet flushed again. “Quality time with Mama. See you later.” Darleen stomped out the door. Stoop Boy followed.
    Bernie wanted to run after her, shake some sense into her. Instead, she went to assist their mother.
    “I’ve been thinking about the old days.” Mama told wonderful stories, enriched by the complicated rhythms of her Navajo words. Bernie felt honored to have Mama all to herself. It was a rare gift, and she was grateful. “I’ve been thinking about this special rug. I don’t think I ever told you about it.” She described the weaving, the white background with the vivid figures. “It was made a long time ago. I never saw anything so beautiful. I wish you could have seen it, my daughter.”
    Outside, the wind rattled against the windows, trying to blow the last bits of moisture from the struggling landscape. If the weather followed normal patters, rain might come in July. Until then, hot dust.
    “I was a small girl then,” Mama said. “He came to the trading post at Newcomb, and my family was there. They say he