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I didn’t know why, but I wanted to give him something of myself. I just hadn’t thought it would be this part that I’d let him see.
Chapter Eight
Eli
“It’s Lakota.”
I relaxed as I realized Mav wasn’t going to dismiss my question, but I was disappointed when his fingers eased their hold on my wrist and then disappeared entirely. I was still reeling from our second kiss and as much as I needed time to just process what it all meant, I found that now that I’d had a chance to touch Mav, that was all I wanted to be doing.
“You’re Native American?” I asked.
“I’m half Native American…on my mother’s side. My father was white…or at least my mother thinks he was.”
I didn’t miss the bitterness in his voice and I knew I was treading perilously close to a sensitive subject so I resisted asking the question I really wanted to and said, “Would you say them in English?”
Mav hesitated for so long that I was tempted to take back the question, but I held my tongue as he seemed to physically brace himself. His voice was rich and deep as he spoke, but I didn’t miss the pained tone.
“Oh, Great Spirit, whose voice I hear in the winds.
And whose breath gives life to all the world.
Hear me! I am small and weak.
I need your strength and wisdom.
Let me walk in beauty, and make my eyes
Ever hold the red and purple sunset.
Make my hands respect the things you have made.
My ears sharp to hear your voice.
Make me wise so that I may understand
The things you might teach me.
Let me learn the lessons you have hidden
In every leaf and rock.
I seek strength, not to be greater than my brother.
But to fight my greatest enemy, myself.
Make me always ready to come to you
With clear hands and straight eyes.
So when life fades, as the fading sunset.
My spirit may come to you without shame.”
Once he was done, Mav refused to look at me, but I sensed it was more because he was lost in thought rather than anything else. The words clearly meant something to him. “Is that some kind of poem?” I asked.
“It’s a prayer…to Wakan Tanka, the Great Spirit. The Lakota culture has deep roots in faith and believe in thanking the Great Spirit for everything on Earth.”
“Did your mother teach you that prayer?”
Mav lifted his eyes and shook his head. “She wasn’t around much when I was growing up. A friend taught me. I was hoping…” His voice trailed off and he dropped his eyes.
I knew I should let it go, but the pain coming off the man in front of me was palpable and I felt an almost unbearable need to take it from him. “You were hoping what?” I asked as I leaned forward and settled my hands over his where they were fisted on his lap.
“I was hoping to impress my grandfather. He ran the museum and cultural center on the reservation and was really traditional.” Mav let out a harsh chuckle. “I spent hours and hours getting it perfect.”
“What happened?”
“Like I said, traditional. Pure blood only.”
I didn’t need any more details to know the encounter had had a detrimental effect on this man. His bitter tone and stiff body were enough to tell me his childhood probably hadn’t been a good one.
“Did you live on a reservation?”
Mav nodded. “Off and on when I was a kid.”
“Where?”
“Pine Ridge, South Dakota.”
“Does your mom still live there?”
“No, she took off when she was eighteen. Got pregnant with me and went back for a while before leaving again. I met my grandfather for the first time when I was six. She left me with him every time she’d meet a new guy. Sometimes she’d come back for me and take me with her for a little while, but as soon as the next guy came along, she’d take me back to the reservation. Last time I talked to her, she’d hooked up with some car salesman in Jersey or something.”
“You don’t talk to her much?”
He shook his head and then gently pulled one of his hands free of mine so he could grab his beer and take a long drink. “She calls me when she needs money.”
“And your grandfather?”
“Still on the rez as far as I know,” Mav murmured. “Haven’t seen him since I was sixteen.”
I could tell Mav was nearing the end of his patience with the topic so I did the only thing I could think of and leaned forward and kissed him. “Thank you,” I whispered against his lips before kissing him once more. I went to pull back again, but he gently grabbed me by the back of the neck.
“For what?” Mav asked.
“For telling me,” I murmured before brushing my lips over his. “For coming to dinner.” Another kiss. “For being there that day in the stairwell.” Every kiss grew a little deeper than the last and by the time I whispered, “For being my first kiss,” Mav had his free arm around my waist and was pulling me to my feet as he stood. His eyes held mine for several long seconds, and then his mouth slammed down on mine and he took complete control of the kiss.
