“You think all I do is talk about climate change in the abstract?” Rowan narrowed her eyes at her, also taking offense at the way she seemed to exclude Rowan when it came to discussing how the Runapewak were experiencing the impacts of climate change. Like she wasn’t actually one of them anymore. Like her dad didn’t fish their waters everyday for his livelihood. She heard Juniper loud and clear – you are not one of us anymore. And she wondered if she ever really had been.
“I think that there are some people in the world who like to talk a lot about philosophical things but don’t always have the action to back it up,” Juniper clarified lazily as she finally gazed up to meet Rowan’s eyes.
There was a deliberate coolness about Juniper’s tone that felt so unnatural, the steadiness, yet passiveness, of her gazeunnerving.
“You think I’m one of those people?” Rowan’s tone, though quiet, was firm.
“Are you not?” Juniper shot back with a raised eyebrow.
Rowan stared at her hand as she tapped her middle finger a few times on the desk, gathering her thoughts before shifting eye contact back to Juniper and launching in.
“No, in fact, quite the opposite. You could learn a thing or two from the experience I bring to the table. Experience, across the world, for over a decade. I bring multiple perspectives, best practices from many different Tribes and Indigenous groups worldwide. And yes, an understanding of law and policy too. You could try actually listening for once — you might be surprised what you can learn that way. But I’m not going to sit here and read off my resume to you either. Fucking look me up if you need to.”
That last part was maybe not the right approach. Juniper barely stifled a giggle.
“You’re asking me to google you?”
Rowan was a lawyer. She could go point-counterpoint all day long. How quickly could all of the years of training fly out the window when it came to arguing with Juniper? Right away, apparently. She could keep going toe to toe with Juniper, devolving into an immature middle school lunchroom style fight, or she could be silent. Her deep-seated irritation over this unfair treatment pushed her to choose the latter. She wasn’t going to entertain this. So she said nothing.
Juniper turned giddily back to the computer. The clack of nails flying against keys typing out Rowan Birdsong signaled pure condescension. Of course she would actually do it. Of course. She never had to be dared to do anything more than once, and barely the first time at that.
“Okay, let’s see… oh, here’s your Twitter. Maybe I should follow you? You probably don’t need any more followers, but what’s one more…” Juniper made a deliberate show of clicking the follow button. “Here’s your organization’s website. Oh, great headshot.”
“Thanks,” Rowan muttered smugly, hoping a different kind of irritation would prompt Juniper to stop or at least shift course.
Wrong choice again. She was 0 for 2 at throwing fuel on this fire.
“What should I expect to see next? A video of you opening the door barefoot for Architectural Digest to answer twenty questions about the green design concept of your Manhattan penthouse?”
“Stop,” Rowan finally snapped.
She leaned across the desk and jabbed the power button on the monitor. If Juniper thought she could afford a penthouse in Manhattan, she reallywasisolated out here.
“Treating me like shit based off of your own assumptions, extremely incorrect assumptions at that, is one thing. But trying to demean me? For someone who wants to keep this professional, this is not professional. Take yourself seriously, Juniper.”
“Take myself seriously? Oh, I take myself very seriously. It’s you who I don’t take seriously.”
Rowan moved her seat around the desk to sit beside Juniper. A power play of her own. The action appeared to set Juniper on edge. Where Rowan had previously wanted to keep a safe distance, she now wanted to make her presence known. She was not going to be dismissed like this.
“And why is that? And for real this time. Don’t create some little gimmick of looking me up on the internet to deflect from saying what you actually think. Get itallout.”
“Here’s what I really think. I think that you jumped ship on this community as soon as you could to live what you thought, and still think, is a better life. I’m not going to sit here and act like this place is all sunshine and flowers. We both obviously know it’s not. But I’m also not going to sit here and have you think you know what’s best for this program or for this community, just because you come fromthatworld now withall thatexperience. And you may technically be over me in this department, but you do not run me.”
Rowan felt ice frost her veins. The chill in the air had won out.
“You’re right. Let’s get this over with. Then maybe we won’t ever have to see each other again.”
Rowan knew what she said wasn’t true. She was going to have to see this woman every single day for the rest of the time they worked in this building together. She couldn’t handle that as much as Juniper apparently couldn’t either.
Despite all that former bravado, she watched Juniper’s face fall. Did Rowan really need to add that last part about never seeing each other again? Another reminder that she could disappear at a moment’s notice? Sure, Juniper was being petty, dismissive. But she knew deep down Juniper was right to be skeptical of her sudden reappearance. Her nonexistent track record of doing anything meaningful for their Tribe. She had been worried about that herself.
Juniper promptly stood up and squeezed sideways between Rowan and the desk, brushing thighs against knees, to move toward the door. Rowan felt blood rush through her veins at the unexpected proximity. She caught the faintest waft of a warm, flowery perfume, fresh like honey and wildflowers. She knew it would be inappropriate to grab the edge of her dress and pull her back to finish the conversation, to actually have the fight she seemed so desperate to have, yet she caught her hand drifting out to touch her anyway. She stopped before she could do anything she’d regret.
This felt so unnecessarily confusing. She wanted to call out to her. Tell her to wait. She didn't mean it. But hadn’t she?
Juniper pretended to busy herself in the empty storage room.
“Feel free to let yourself out. We can pick this back up tomorrow.”
