Page 42 of Stolen Dreams

Her eyes widen in surprise as the question registers. “Erm…”

I plaster on my best smile, the one most melt over, and inch impossibly closer to her. I don’t miss the rapid rise of her chest at my nearness.

“Nothing extravagant. Dinner, maybe a little wine.” I shrug and try to remain outwardly composed. Inside, every cell in my body screamsplease say yesover and over.

Bucking up the courage to put myself out there is hard enough. It isn’t only my heart on the line, but I’m willing to take the initial hit. For Kaya, I will risk my heart. Expose myself and be vulnerable. Endanger my peace and emotions for the possibility of what may be.

She shifts in her seat as her eyes scan the room. “I, uh…” Wrinkles line her forehead as her gaze meets mine. “I don’t know.”

Not a firm no. Which means there is room for a yes. Time to add more fuel to the kindling.

Twisting in my seat, my hand rests inches from hers. “I like you, Kaya,” I say, voice soft, words laced with conviction. “And I’d like to know you better.”

“Is that a good idea?” She tilts her head toward the kids and my coworkers.

“There’s no rule saying we can’t have dinner together.” I almost saidgo on a datebut quickly countered.

Skepticism dances over her expression. “The school frowns upon staff spending personal time with parents.”

“School’s out for the summer,” I rush out. “We can cross that bridge later.”

Her gaze drops to her lap a beat before it drifts across the room. “What about Tucker?”

With such a rough start in life, the last thing I want to do is disrupt the inkling of serenity Tucker has gained since I got him back. But Tucker isn’t the same little boy I laid eyes on almost two years ago. Now, he has a safe haven, a sense of security, feels loved. He smiles, is genuinely happy.

After countless hours of overthinking this week, of going back and forth on whether I should attempt dating as a single dad, I decide yes. It’s time to find what—who—sets my soul on fire. Yes, I am a parent. But it’s not all I am.

“I’ll talk with him. Figure it out.”

I see the cogs turning as she mulls over whether to accept or decline. She doesn’t make me wait long.

With a lick of her lips, she swallows then nods infinitesimally. “Dinner sounds nice.”

I stop breathing for one, two, three erratic heartbeats. As I exhale, the noise around us filters back in. My cheeks burn as a smile stretches across my face. “I’ll talk with Tucker and text you later.”

She fights a smile and fails, and damn do I love how much it makes her glow. “Talk to you later.”

TWELVE

KAYA

Friday family dinneris always a grand affair in the main house.

My grandmother, Ahnah, and her mother, Liuna, spend most of the day in the kitchen. Whether it’s chopping fresh vegetables from our family garden, preparing fish or meat, or kneading dough for fresh bannock, their hands are busy post-breakfast until it’s time to serve dinner.

Most Fridays, thirteen to fifteen of us gather. On rare occasions, twice as many join. Either way, I soak up every moment with each of them. Listen to their stories. Let them teach me nearly forgotten skills no longer necessary in everyday life. Discover more invaluable parts of our ancestry.

Our history and traditions were lost over generations, but we’re slowly navigating our way back. Learning who we were, our ancestors’ way of life, and finding ways to incorporate those pieces into our modern-day lives.

At twenty-five, my life isn’t vastly different than other young women my age. I work forty-plus hours a week, go out with friends, have an unhealthy obsession with fashion, eat too much ice cream while watching sappy movies, and live for rainy days on the couch with a good book.

But there will always be a piece of me, unlike women my age, and I accept this. Although it’s been a rough road, I have learned to love this part of myself more with time.

Years ago, my grandmother decided to do an online DNA ancestry test. When I asked what provoked the idea, she said,“I love Stone Bay. It will always be my home. My heart. But sometimes it feels like a piece of our family is missing.”

She wasn’t wrong.

A significant amount of saliva in a tube shipped off to a lab for evaluation changed everything. Within days of the results, she tracked down family we didn’t know existed in northern Canada. After a few jittery weeks of mulling over what to do with the information, she sent a message to someone listed as kin. It’s been a whirlwind since.

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