Wide-awake and miserable, Dawn lay curled in a ball in the middle of her fancy new bed. Her mother had turned off the light and closed the door, leaving only a tiny night-light in the bathroom to contend against total darkness. Even though she was seven and a half, Dawn was a little nervous in this big, dark, silent room. Unlike her mother’s bungalow on Vineyard Avenue, Mitch’s house stood at the end of a long driveway lined with cypress trees, too far from the road to hear cars or see headlights.
Dawn didn’t want to live in this house so far away from Granny and Papa. Her mother wouldn’t have time for her. She’d never see her school friends again. Granny said she and Papa would come to visit soon, but what did “soon” mean? Tomorrow? Next week?
Dawn wiped away angry tears. She had initially liked Mitch, but now that he’d married Mom, she wasn’t so sure.
A soft wind and moonlight cast frightening shadows outside her window. Dawn huddled deep under the blankets, covered her head, and cried herself to sleep.
Mom opened the door the next morning and came in, all smiles and cheer. “Breakfast will be ready soon.”
Dawn hated that her mother looked so happy when she was so miserable. “I’m not hungry.”
“I’m making bacon and waffles.”
Dawn set her jaw, refusing to be tempted by her favorite breakfast. “I’m not going to eat anything until you take me home.” She felt triumphant when the joy dimmed in her mother’s face.
“You are home, Dawn. If you want to go on a hunger strike, that’s fine. If you want to come out and sit with us, even better. Either way, I won’t force you.” Her mother quietly closed the door behind her.
Dawn stared, furious. When fifteen minutes passed and Mom didn’t come back, Dawn shoved her covers off and went into the pink, green, and white bathroom. Her hair looked like a blonde mop on her head. Granny used to brush it for her every morning. Her clothes lay in a mess on the floor where she’d dropped them. Granny would have picked them up and folded them for her. Her mother always expected her to do everything herself! She’d probably force her to do dishes, too!
As Dawn approached the kitchen archway, she heard Mom talking. “A private Christian school is too expensive, Mitch. She’s my daughter. I wouldn’t feel right having you pay tuition-”
“Whoa. What’s mine is yours now. Remember? You need to get that into your head, Carolyn. We’re partners.”
“She’s been going to a public school. I’m not sure I want her in a Christian school.”
“Why not?”
Her mother spoke too quietly for Dawn to hear. Dawn walked around the corner and through the archway into the kitchen.
Mitch grinned. “Well, good morning, sleepyhead.” Dawn glared at him. His brows rose. “Oops. I guess you’re not a morning person.”
Her mother studied her coolly. “I thought you weren’t hungry.”
“I won’t eat if you don’t want me to. I can go back to my room and stay there and starve, if that’s what you want!”
Mitch breathed out a laugh. “Trying hard to be a pita, aren’t you?”
“Pita?”
“Pain in the… Never mind.” He stood, pulled out a chair, and bowed. “It would please us humble folk to have Your Majesty grace us with your presence at our table.” He waved his arm for her to sit.
Dawn stayed where she was, trying not to cry. Mitch had always been nice to her. She wanted him to like her, not think she was a spoiled brat.
His face softened. “Relax, Dawn. Sit with us.” Mitch scooted her chair in comfortably when she did. He squeezed her shoulders before he took his seat again. Mom put two strips of crisp bacon and a golden brown waffle on her plate, but Dawn had lost her appetite. She kept her head down, blinking back tears. Mitch and Mom had already finished breakfast. They hadn’t even waited for her.
Mitch sighed. “Think I’ll leave you two alone.” He cleared his dishes while Mom loaded the dishwasher. “Are you going to be okay?” Mitch spoke tenderly. Dawn glanced up and then realized he wasn’t talking to her. He had his arm around Mom’s waist. Mom shrugged. He kissed her. Grimacing, Dawn looked away. Mitch came over to the table and leaned down to plant a kiss on top of her head. “See you later, alligator…”
She used to laugh and say, “After a while, crocodile.” That was before he married her mother.
Mom poured another cup of coffee and returned to the table. “Something wrong with the waffle?”
Granny’s waffles were darker and crisper. “It’s okay, I guess.” She nibbled the edges.
Her mother sighed. “If you’re done, you can put your plate on the counter.” Her mother put her hands around her coffee cup. “I was going to wait a few days to put you in school. Now, I think the sooner, the better. The sooner you make new friends, the sooner you’ll settle in.”
“I want to go to my old school with all my friends!”
“You’ll make new friends at your new school. Go get cleaned up, and we’ll head over there. They’ll probably even let you start today.”
Fear coursed through Dawn. “It’ll be just like when Susan came.” The girls had whispered about her and made her cry. It had been a game at first, one that made Dawn uncomfortable, but she hadn’t wanted to go against the crowd. “Nobody wanted to be her friend.”
Her mother stood and looked at her. “Well, let’s hope the people you meet in Healdsburg will be nicer than the ‘friends’ you had in Paxtown.”
Dawn felt as though her mother had slapped her.
Mom’s expression softened. “I know life isn’t easy, May Flower Dawn. Believe me, I do. I could fix your hair in a French braid and help you pick out a skirt and-”
“I don’t want to look like you!” She fled to the doorway. “And don’t call me May Flower Dawn. It’s a stupid, hippy name! I’m Dawn.”
Granny called that night. Dawn poured out her loneliness and anger over having to live so far away. Granny said she was sorry about that, too, and then asked if she liked second grade. “Did you make any friends today?” Several girls had come up to her and wanted to be friends. Dawn had been surprised at how nice they were.
Granny called again the next night-and the night after that.
After a few weeks, Dawn realized she enjoyed riding the bus to school with her friends. Getting off the bus after school proved harder. Granny wouldn’t be waiting at the house. She had always given Dawn a snack, then played board games or let Dawn watch TV. Mom told her to play outside or with her Barbies. “You’ve been sitting in a classroom all day. I don’t want you sitting in front of a television all afternoon.”
Every evening, Granny called right about the time Mom started clearing dishes. After a while, Mom stopped answering the telephone and let Dawn run to her room and catch it. At least she had her very own phone. That was one nice thing about living in Mitch’s house.
Dawn knew something was wrong the moment she heard Granny’s voice. “What is it, Granny?” Her heart began to pound. “Is Papa sick?”
“No. Papa is fine.” Granny sniffled. “Everything is fine.”
“No, it’s not. I can tell.” Something had made her grandmother cry.
“I’m going to stop calling you every evening, honey. I’ll call you once a week instead.”
“Why? Are you mad at me?”
“No! Of course not. It’s just that… your mother says- ”
“She’s so mean!” Dawn was crying now too. “I want to come home! Please come and get me!”
“Honey, I can’t. I love you so much, but she’s your mother.” Granny sniffled again. “She and Mitch love you very much, Dawn. I have to go now.” Her voice broke. “I’ll talk to you in a week.”
Dawn marched down the hall to the kitchen, where her mother was putting the last plate into the dishwasher. “You made Granny cry!”
Mom turned and looked at her. “I’m sorry about that, but-”
“You’re not sorry! You’re not sorry at all! You said she couldn’t call me anymore!” Hands in fists, she screamed. “And I hate you! I wish you were dead so I could go home and live with Granny!”
All the color drained from her mother’s face, leaving her skin the color of ashes. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her blue eyes filled with tears, and she turned away.
Feeling sick rather than triumphant, Dawn fled to her room.
Someone tapped on the door. Limp from crying, Dawn sat up, expecting her mother to retaliate. She tensed when the door opened. Mitch stood in the doorway, looking grim and unhappy. “May I come in?”
She shrugged, trying to pretend she didn’t care. Her palms felt moist. Had her mother told him what she’d said?
Mitch crossed the room, took her desk chair, and turned it around, straddling it and resting his arms on the back. “So, Pita. Feeling any better now that you got things off your chest?”
He’d called her Pita. Dawn heard the disappointment in his tone and felt the heat of guilt pouring into her face. She decided to lie. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I was home, in my office. I heard every word you said. Not said-screamed, like a spoiled two-year-old having a tantrum.”
“She told Granny not to talk to me anymore!”
“That’s the second lie you’ve told me, unless your grandmother lied to you.”
“Granny never lies!”
“Then how about the truth this time?” He spoke gently.
Dawn plucked at her skirt, eyes smarting with tears. “I want to go home.”
“Granny isn’t the only one who loves you. She’s not the only one who cries. Your mother loves you, too.”
She covered her face and sobbed. Mitch sat for a while, silent. He got up, put the chair back, and came over to her. She felt too ashamed to lift her head. “Your mother loves you, Dawn, and so do I.” She felt him kiss the crown of her head. “Maybe you could give us a chance.”
Dawn didn’t sleep well. Gathering her courage the next morning, she headed for the kitchen to say she was sorry. Her mother was at the sink.
Dawn stood in the doorway, chewing her lower lip, not sure what to do. “Where’s Mitch?”
Her mother’s head lifted slightly. “He went to work.” She turned mechanically, removed the lid from a frying pan, and scooped a portion of scrambled eggs onto a plate. She brought it to the table, poured a glass of orange juice, and moved away.
Dawn poked at her breakfast. The hollow feeling in her stomach had nothing to do with hunger. She didn’t know what to say to break the silence. Her mother went back to the sink and stood there, staring out the window, arms wrapped around herself. Did she have a stomachache, too? After a few minutes, she went into the laundry room off the kitchen and began sorting clothes.
Dawn scraped her uneaten eggs into the garbage disposal. Rinsing her plate and silverware, she put them in the dishwasher. Trembling inside, she went to the laundry room door. She gulped. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” Her voice came out tight.
Her mother went still. She didn’t look up. “If you want to talk, call Granny when you get home from school.”
It didn’t matter that she’d won. Dawn felt awful. She wanted to say she was sorry; she didn’t hate her; she’d just been so mad. She wished she could take the words back, but they still hung in the air like a foul stench. Mommy, she wanted to cry out. Mommy, I’m sorry. “I… I…” She couldn’t get the words past the hard, hot lump in her throat.
Dawn called Granny as soon as she got home from school. “Mommy said I can call you-”
“I know, sweetie. Your mother called me. She didn’t tell me what made her change her mind. Do you know?”
Dawn knew, but didn’t want to say. “She said she knows I love you.” That was true, at least.
“Oh. Good. I was afraid… Oh, never mind. Why don’t you tell me all about your day, honey? I’m eager to hear everything. Who did you play with?”
Dawn didn’t want to tell Granny it was the worst day of her life. Her teacher asked a question twice before Dawn realized she was supposed to answer. Everyone laughed. She spent recess crying in the back stall of the girls’ bathroom. On the way home, she sat in the back of the bus, worrying about how things would be when she got home, but Mom acted normal, even asked how Dawn’s day had gone. Dawn could muster only one word: “Fine.” Her mother sighed and said she could go call Granny.
“You’re a little quiet tonight, sweetie.”
Dawn couldn’t think of anything to say. “I have homework, Granny.” It was true.
“I suppose I should get Papa’s dinner going. I’ll call you tomorrow. I love you, honey.”
“I love you, too.” Dawn hung up and put her head in her arms.
When Mitch came home, he stuck his head in her room to say hello. “Apologize yet?”
She shrugged. “I tried.”
Later, Mitch called her to the dinner table. He talked easily about his day. Mom paid close attention to everything he said. She glanced in Dawn’s direction several times, passed serving dishes, asked if Dawn wanted more milk, more mashed potatoes. But whenever Dawn looked at her, Mom turned away without meeting her eyes. When Mom started to clear dishes, Dawn picked up her own. Mom held her hand out for them. “I can do that.”
Mom carried the dishes to the sink. Dawn looked at Mitch, hoping he could do something to make things better. He gave her a sad smile. Pushing his chair back, he went to her mother. He draped his arm around her shoulders and whispered something in her ear.
Feeling left out, Dawn wandered away from the table.
Without consulting her, Mom registered Dawn for soccer. “Your friends play, don’t they? Mitch is going to be your coach.”
“Assistant coach,” Mitch clarified. “Football is my game. Joaquin Perez is coach. He knows everything there is to know about soccer.” He grinned at Dawn. “We’ll both be learning from scratch.”
On the first day of practice, she spotted four classmates: Torie Keyes, Tiffany Myers, Leanne Stoddard, and Susan Mackay. They had all played soccer since kindergarten. “Swarm ball,” Torie laughed.
After several practices, Coach made Dawn a forward. “You’re a natural.” Mom encouraged Dawn to invite her friends over to play. Soon they were practicing soccer on the big lawn behind the house.
Dawn’s days filled with activity. She went to church with Mitch, though her mother never attended, staying home alone. Mitch said Mom liked being alone with God, and she had fellowship when she went to AA twice a week in Santa Rosa.
1979
Dawn dumped her backpack in her bedroom, changed for soccer practice, and went searching for Mitch, eager to leave. “Mitch! Where are you? It’s time to go!”
“We’re in here!”
She found Mom and Mitch sitting close together in the family room. Mitch had a grin on his face. Her mother looked oddly uncomfortable. “What’s going on? We’re going to be late for practice.”
“Sit down, Dawn. We have some good news to share.” He kissed Mom’s temple. “Go ahead. Tell her.”
“She’ll take it better from you.”
Mitch laughed, his eyes alight. “We’re going to have a baby! You’re going to have a little brother or sister about six months from now. What do you think of that?”
Dawn didn’t know what to say. “That’s great.” But was it?
“I think she’s in shock.” Mitch kissed Mom again and stood. He clapped his hands on Dawn’s shoulders. “You’ll get used to the idea.” He turned her around. “Let’s go.”
“Go where?” Her mind had gone blank.
“Soccer practice!”
Mitch told Coach Joaquin, and a few players overheard. Soon everyone knew Dawn’s mother was pregnant. Dawn swung between embarrassment and worry. Where would she fit into the family after a baby came?
“Oh, wow, do I pity you,” Torie said. “It’s bad enough when you have a brother or sister close to your own age, but eight years apart… The baby will be the star, and you’ll be the babysitter.”
Soon after soccer season ended, Granny called and asked to speak with Mom. Dawn knew something was wrong. She handed the telephone over to Mom and stayed around to watch and listen.
“What? When? Why didn’t you call us sooner?” Mom sounded shaken. “We’ll come right down… Why?… Does he have to be so stubborn? This weekend then.” She listened again, her expression growing more troubled. “I don’t know, Mom.” She glanced at Dawn and then turned away. “The weekend. A couple of days.” She hung up.
She held up calming hands at Dawn’s flurry of questions. “Papa had a mild heart attack, but he’s okay. He’s spending another two nights in the hospital just to be sure.”
Dawn started to cry. Didn’t people die of heart attacks? When her mother put her arms around her, Dawn stiffened at the unexpected show of affection. Mom let go and stepped back.
“He’ll be home for a while,” Mom added. “On bed rest. We’ll go see him this weekend. Granny wants you to stay at the house.”
Papa looked more disgruntled than sick when Dawn came flying into the house. He was in plaid pajamas and a robe, wearing old, worn leather slippers and sitting in his recliner in the living room. When he started to get up, Granny told him she’d march him straight back to bed if he did. He grinned at Dawn. “Granny’s got her nursing cap on. Heaven help me. Climb on up here and give me a hug!”
Mom had noticed Oma’s car was missing. Granny said she was gone again. “She came home to see Trip-I mean Dad-and then decided to spend a week with Uncle Bernie and Aunt Elizabeth.”
Mom and Mitch asked Papa questions, but Granny answered. Papa glowered. “I’m still alive. I can speak for myself. It’s not as bad as she makes it sound.”
Granny scowled back at him. “It was bad enough.”
Granny’s lips trembled. Papa took her hand and kissed it and suggested she start dinner.
Mom offered to help. Granny said she could manage, then asked Dawn to set the table. Papa kissed Dawn’s cheek before she got off his lap. Mitch and Papa talked in low voices. Mom didn’t say anything. In the kitchen, Granny ran her hand over Dawn’s hair. “Papa looks better now that you’re home.”
Papa was too tired to sit at the dinner table. Dawn went along while Granny walked with him back to the master bedroom and settled him into the hospital bed they’d rented. She prepared a dinner tray for him. “Why don’t I make up a tray for you too, honey? You’re better medicine for Papa than anything the doctor prescribed.” Granny stayed at the dining room table with Mom and Mitch.
While they ate dinner together, Papa asked Dawn how she liked living in Alexander Valley. She had grown to like it a lot, and she told him about her new friends, about Mitch acting as assistant soccer coach. She loved soccer. Did he want to know how many goals she’d kicked? Twenty-six! Mitch was teaching her to swim now, and she practiced every day in the backyard pool. Papa’s eyelids drooped, and he fell asleep while she was talking. She kissed his cheek, then left the bedroom. She heard Granny talking in the kitchen.
“Well, you could ask her, couldn’t you? The school year is almost over. She wouldn’t miss anything.”
“We didn’t plan on leaving Dawn behind, Hildie.”
“Well, I told Carolyn-”
“We were talking about this weekend, Mom. Two days, not the whole summer.”
Dawn walked into the kitchen just as Mom got up and left the table. Mitch gave Granny a grim look and pushed his chair back, following Mom into the living room. Mom picked up her sweater and pulled it on, then picked up her shoulder bag. They spoke in low voices. Dawn asked Granny what was wrong. Granny said nothing, nothing at all; it was just a little misunderstanding and nothing to worry about. Mom stood in the entryway. “We’ll be at the Paxtown Hotel. We’ll be back in the morning, Dawn.”
Granny looked furious. “You’re leaving now? What about dessert? I made a chocolate cake. It’s your favorite!”
“It’s Dawn’s favorite.” Mom turned to Dawn. “We’ll be back tomorrow.” She went out the door.
Mitch said he’d be right with her. He leaned down and whispered in Dawn’s ear. “Be wise. Don’t take sides.”
“It’s just like your mother to run away!” Granny stacked dinner dishes and headed into the kitchen. She asked if Dawn wanted to play a board game. Dawn hadn’t played games since moving to Alexander Valley. There were too many other things to do now. When she didn’t say anything right away, Granny added, “Or we could watch TV.”
Granny checked on Papa and joined her in the living room. She talked more than she watched. She and Papa sure missed Dawn. Wouldn’t it be nice if she could stay longer than the weekend? How long before school ended? Two weeks? She didn’t have any plans for summer, did she? Remember how much she loved the county fair? And with the baby coming, her mother would have all kinds of things to do: doctors’ appointments, getting the nursery ready, shopping, that sort of thing. She wouldn’t have time for Dawn, not like Granny and Papa. They would have all the time in the world for her.
Dawn knew what Granny wanted. Maybe she should spend the summer. Granny seemed so certain Papa would get better fast if she did.
She loved Granny and Papa, but this wasn’t her home anymore. She wanted to be in Alexander Valley with Mom and Mitch. She wanted to be there when her baby brother or sister was born. But how could she say that to Granny without hurting her feelings?
Mom and Mitch came back in the morning. Granny said she would have breakfast ready shortly, but Mitch said they’d eaten at the hotel. Granny seemed hurt. She said she thought Dawn wanted to spend the summer. Mom said that didn’t surprise her. Mitch asked, “Is that what you want, Dawn?”
“Granny said Papa will get well faster if I’m here.”
He frowned at Granny. “No one can argue with that without sounding like a heartless wretch.”
Granny’s face turned beet red. “I wasn’t pressuring-”
“It’s probably true, Mitch,” Mom said quietly. “Dad will do better if Dawn is here. But she has two more weeks of school. I’m not leaving her now.”
“That’ll be fine.” Granny smiled, relieved. She hugged Dawn against her side. “We’ll have all summer together.”
“One month, Mom. Not the whole summer.”
“What about the county fair?”
Mom turned to Dawn. She held her gaze for the first time in months. “One month or the whole summer, Dawn?”
Mitch interrupted. “Your little brother or sister is expected the middle of July. Remember?”
“I…” Dawn looked from Mom to Granny and then at Mitch. “Um…” She felt pulled and torn. “I…” She wanted to cry. No matter what she decided, someone would be hurt and upset.
“One month,” Mitch decided. He smiled at Granny. “I’ll miss her too much. She can come home the end of June and stay until the baby comes. Then she can make up her mind about the rest of the summer. Is that agreeable to everyone?” He looked to Mom to answer. She nodded.
Granny harrumphed. “I guess I don’t have anything to say about it.”
Papa spoke from the doorway. “I think you’ve had too much say already.”
Dawn enjoyed her time with Granny and Papa, but was ready to go home by the end of June. Mitch drove down to get her. Her friends had been calling. When she asked how Mom was doing, he said, “Bursting at the seams.”
She settled in again and spent hours on the telephone with Torie and Tiffany. She swam every day. She rode double on Torie’s horse. Mom vetoed any idea of having one of her own. “I just can’t imagine you mucking out a stable…”
“Dawn!” Mitch awakened her in the middle of the night. “Baby’s coming. Up and at it, sugar. I’ve already called Tiff’s folks. They’re expecting us.” He dropped her off on the way to the hospital, Mom huffing and puffing and saying they’d better hurry.
Two days later, Tiffany’s mom brought her home. Dawn charged into the house, dumped her duffel bag. “I’m home! Where are you?”
Mitch appeared at the master room door, finger to his lips. Mom sat in a new rocking chair by the windows, holding the most adorable creature Dawn had ever seen.
“May Flower Dawn, meet your brother, Christopher Charles Hastings.” Dawn had never seen that look on her mother’s face. She was enraptured, in love, her lips curved in a soft smile. She held the baby so close, as though he were the most precious human on the planet.
Mitch put his hands on Dawn’s shoulders. “So? What do you think of your baby brother?”
She looked at the baby again, her mouth wobbling. “He’s so cute.” She stepped forward. “Can I hold him?”
Mom seemed slightly alarmed at the idea. “Not yet. In a few days. We’ll see.” She studied Dawn’s face and looked relieved. Gazing down again, she ran a tender finger along the baby’s smooth cheek. “I think your sister likes you.” His tiny mouth worked.
“Uh-oh.” Mitch laughed. “He’s hungry again.” He ushered Dawn out of the room so her mother could nurse the baby.
Dawn decided not to go back to Paxtown. She wanted to stay in Alexander Valley with Mom, Mitch, and her new baby brother. Christopher fascinated her. He had the cutest little ears, and he was so soft. She loved when he grasped her finger, holding on tight. Mitch let her hold him once, but Mom took him back after a few minutes.
Once, she snuck into the master bedroom to watch him sleeping in his crib. She touched his hand and watched him start, his fingers opening wide, then closing on her thumb. Leaning down, she kissed his forehead. He even smelled good.
Granny and Papa came at the end of August. Mom didn’t hand Christopher over to Granny, not even for a minute. She did let Papa hold him once. When Mom placed Christopher in his arms, Dawn watched his face soften.
Mom smiled. “I need to step out for a few minutes. Are you going to be okay alone with him?” He nodded, gaze fixed on his grandson.
Tears ran down his face as he cupped Christopher’s head and leaned down to kiss him. “You look just like Charlie…”
Granny and Papa came up for Thanksgiving and stayed four days. Mom didn’t relax until they left. Mitch invited them back for Christmas. Mom invited Oma, too, but she said Aunt Cloe had already insisted she come to Hollywood. Dawn overheard Mom talking to Mitch in the kitchen. “Something’s wrong, but she won’t say what.”
Over Christmas Eve dinner, Papa announced he’d put in for retirement. He figured it was about time. He didn’t want to have another heart attack. Besides, the law was now working against police officers. Arrest a criminal and the courts would let him loose.
“We’ve been thinking about moving,” Granny said.
“Moving?” Dawn gaped. “But you love Paxtown!”
“Well, of course we do, but we love our family more. We only get to see you a couple of times a year.”
That wasn’t true. They came to visit for every holiday, and Dawn spent time with them every time she had a school break.
Mom set her knife and fork down. “What about Oma?”
“We invited her to come with us.” Granny sawed at a tender slice of turkey like it was shoe leather. “She said no.”
Papa put his hand on Granny’s wrist. “I told you not to bring it up, Hildie.” He faced Mom. “We haven’t made a final decision yet. We wanted to ask if it would be all right with you if we moved closer.”
Dawn couldn’t bear the look on Granny’s face. “That’d be great, Mom! Wouldn’t it?” Say something! Mom opened her mouth, but no words came.
Mitch spoke. “It’d be great to have you two closer. You’re the last set of parents I have.”
“Thanks, Mitch,” Papa said. Granny relaxed a little. Papa glanced at her, his face softening. Then he looked at Mom. “We’ve missed you more than you know, Carolyn.”
Mom winced. Dawn jumped in again to break the tension. “You could live right next door!”
Papa laughed. “Sorry, honey. We can’t afford this neighborhood.”
Granny’s shoulders relaxed. “Healdsburg seems like a nice little town.”
Christopher started to fuss in his high chair. Mom got up quickly and released him, lifting him in her arms and holding him closer while Papa talked.
“I was thinking of something a little farther out. We don’t want to park ourselves on your front doorstep.”
Mitch poured more sparkling cider. “Stay with us while you’re looking. We have plenty of room.”
When Dawn came into the kitchen the next morning, she found her mother sitting at the table, rubbing her forehead while she talked on the telephone. “I’d feel better if you were coming, too.” When she saw Dawn, she got up and took the portable phone into the family room. “We have plenty of room. You could live with us. Mitch would… Why not? Why would she care?”
Dawn knew Mom was talking to Oma. Pouring herself a bowl of cereal, she lingered and listened.
“Just think about it, Oma. Please?” Mom pleaded.
Dawn knew her mother loved Oma, but she didn’t know why. Granny stayed away from her, so Dawn did too.
Dear Rosie,
My daughter doesn’t know how to let go. She has decided to sell the big house and property (including my cottage) and move to Sonoma County. She would like it if she could live right next door to May Flower Dawn, though I think Trip will put his foot down over that. I’m not sure what I will do. I had hoped to live here for the rest of my life. I should have seen this coming when Trip put in for retirement.
I’m not sure where I will live now. Hildemara said I can come with them, but doing so might make it look like I approve. She doesn’t consider how this will affect Carolyn’s budding relationship with Dawn. In truth, I think Hildemara is a little jealous, though she would never admit it.
Bernhard and Elizabeth think I should move in with them. Clotilde offered a condo in North Hollywood. Rikka invited me to stay part of the year in her Soho apartment. She has many artistic friends, all like tropical birds chattering about their flights of fancy. Two weeks and I’m ready to migrate back to California.
As much as I love my children, I can be on my own. Why do they think I need a keeper? I may have gray hair, wear glasses, have certain limitations, but I am not in my dotage. I still have dreams. They say I’m being stubborn. So be it.
I miss the Central Valley. I miss the heat, the scent of sand, orchards, and vineyards. I miss putting flowers on Niclas’s grave. Merced is centrally located. I can afford a bungalow there. I could drive to Yosemite in an hour and enjoy the mountains for a day. Who knows? Maybe, after all these years, I could finally go to college…
1980
Granny and Papa’s Paxtown property sold quickly. A moving company stored everything while they stayed in Alexander Valley and looked for another home. They stayed in the second suite at the other end of the house from Mom and Mitch. Dawn was in-between. Granny made afternoon and evening appointments with their Realtor. That way, Dawn could go with them to see houses. Granny wanted to live at the north end of Healdsburg. Papa wanted to look at Cloverdale. Granny said that was too far away. So were Windsor and Santa Rosa. Granny said maybe they’d find something on Dry Creek Road.
Finally Granny decided on a house in Healdsburg. She talked about the nice guest bedroom with private bath, the neat houses along the street, the small, easily maintained backyard. And it was so close to Dawn’s school. “You could have lunch with us!”
Papa looked at Dawn in the rearview mirror and didn’t say a word until they got back to Alexander Valley. “Go on in the house, Dawn. Granny and I are going to have a little talk before we come in.”
They sat in the car for almost an hour. When Granny came inside, she headed straight for the guest suite. Papa went into the family room and sank into an easy chair. Mitch raised his brows. “Is everything okay?”
“We’re going to take a long drive tomorrow, by ourselves, and see a little more of the area.” Mom came into the family room, Christopher in her arms. Papa looked at her with a sad smile. “Healdsburg is a nice little town, but I’d like to be forty-five minutes to an hour away. Somewhere on the coast, if we could afford it.”
Papa found just the house he wanted at the end of the Russian River in Jenner by the Sea. The house was tucked into a hillside, almost hidden by a row of overgrown, shaggy cypress trees. He said the place needed some work, but he claimed it would have a “million-dollar view” when the trees were topped and the deadwood cut out and hauled away. Granny argued vehemently against buying it, but Papa won in the end.
Just before Christopher’s first birthday, Mitch flabbergasted Dawn by asking if he could adopt her.
Her stepdad was the coolest guy she knew, and she loved him, but she was torn. She asked for some time to think about it. Her mother didn’t like that, but Dawn didn’t want to make a rash decision and hurt anyone’s feelings. She went out to Jenner by the Sea for the weekend and talked it over with her grandparents. She hoped they’d give their blessing.
Papa didn’t say much about it other than, “It’s up to you, honey.” Granny remained silent on the subject until the next morning, when she insisted she and Dawn go to the beach for a walk. They hadn’t gone to the beach in months, so Dawn knew Granny had something to say. Granny let loose in the car on the drive over. She reminded Dawn that Mitch wasn’t her father; that Papa had paid all the bills for the first five years of her life; Papa had rocked her to sleep. Papa had read stories to her; Papa had played with her. Of course, he’d been hurt when Dawn told him about Mitch’s offer. How could he not be? Of course, he’d hide his feelings and say it was up to Dawn! Granny parked and wiped tears away. Besides all that, Dawn was the last Arundel in the family. Yes, of course, she’d get married someday and take her husband’s name, but until then, it meant a lot to them.
Dawn couldn’t bear to hurt her grandparents, and she knew Mitch would understand.
When she came home, she told Mitch she was honored, but thought she’d like to leave things as they were. Mitch looked disappointed, but accepted her decision with grace. He even kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry about it.”
Her mother stood silent, eyes glacier blue. She opened her mouth to say something, then pressed her lips together and left the room without speaking. Mitch followed her, closing the door of the master suite behind them. Her mother talked then, loud enough for Dawn to hear the tone, but not the words.
Dawn tried to talk to her the next morning. She wanted to explain it had nothing to do with Mitch. She loved Mitch. “I’m sorry if you’re upset, Mom. I just don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.”
“You don’t want to hurt Granny’s feelings. You don’t care who else you hurt.”
“Mitch seemed okay with it.”
“They’re your grandparents, Dawn! Isn’t that enough?”
“They’ve always been there for me.”
Her mother blinked. “So you hurt Mitch to get back at me?”
“No!”
Mom turned her back and continued making Dawn’s bag lunch. She didn’t have to say she didn’t believe Dawn; her posture said it all.
“Can we talk about it, Mom?”
“Why? You made your decision. Everything will be the way Granny wants it, and it’ll stay that way. It always does.” She shoved the sandwich into a Baggie and put it in the paper bag. “You’d better get your stuff together, or you’ll be late for the bus.”
1985
Dawn struggled with feelings of ecstasy, anger, and misery. She had kicked the winning goal in the final junior high team championship soccer game, and Mom wasn’t even in the stands. Mitch had come. Her stepfather always made an effort to support her. Just once, couldn’t Mom make the effort, too-especially since this was the last and most important game of Dawn’s life? Of course, Mom would have an excuse. Chris always had something going on somewhere else. Mom hadn’t even bothered to show up at Mary’s Pizza Shack for the season-ending party. When Dawn and Mitch came into the kitchen, there they were, sitting at the table, Mom smiling over something Chris had said. She glanced up. “How’d it go?”
“Dawn kicked the winning goal. I got it all on film.”
“That’s great. Congratulations, Dawn. Chris’s game started late. We just got home. He wanted to stop at Burger King.”
Mitch ruffled Christopher’s curly red hair. “How’d you do, Tiger?”
“We lost.” Her little brother-still adorable at almost six-never got upset about anything. “Can we watch Dawn’s game?”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
Christopher was on his feet, hamburger forgotten. He and Mitch trooped into the family room while Mom gathered up the remains of their take-out meal. “You seem upset.”
“No, Mom. Why would I be?”
“Where are you going?”
“To my bedroom.”
“Aren’t you going to watch the game video?”
“I played the game, remember? Seeing it on video isn’t the same as being there, is it?”
Her mother stood at the trash compactor. “You had a cheering section. Mitch went. And Granny and Papa were there.”
“Why should it matter whether Granny and Papa are there? It’d be nice to have you and Chris at one of my games.”
“Well, Chris couldn’t come. His team needed him.”
“He’s in peewees! They play swarm ball! Just once, just for a couple of hours, couldn’t I be first in your life?”
“You came first for a long time, Dawn. Not that it ever mattered to anyone, especially you.”
Dawn gave up. Storming out of the kitchen, she went down the hall and slammed her bedroom door. She sat on the end of her bed and cried. Someone tapped on the door. Dawn shouted, “Go away!”
Sometimes she wished her mother would yell back instead of walking away-or responding in that cool, calm tone. Dawn wondered sometimes: How could she miss her mother so much when she’d never had her love in the first place?
1986
Dawn still felt adrift after nine months as a freshman. High school had turned out to be a complete bust. She’d gone from junior high Sky Hawks star soccer player to outcast and dweeb. The girls who had been her friends since second grade left her behind by mid-September, charging like forwards into new groups. Torie Keyes now ran with the Mexican gangbangers. Dawn saw her every day in the corridor, draped around Juan Alvarez like a bun around a hot dog. Susan Mackay hacked her hair into a butch, donned button-down shirts and black pants, and “came out of the closet” as a lesbian. Two other buddies from the Sky Hawks soccer team, Tiffany Myers and Leanne Stoddard, still hung out together. They smoked pot behind the modular buildings lining the football field. If Dawn wanted to go to a big party where booze and drugs and sex would be in abundance, all she had to do was ask Tiff and Lee. They’d know where to find one.
She scribbled more loops on her notepaper. Summer break loomed a week away with the promise of endless boredom.
She’d be stuck at home for three months without even Christopher’s company. Her little brother had an army of little buddies; hence, places to go and things to do. In addition to friends, Mom signed him up for swimming lessons and, not one, but four different vacation Bible schools. Why? Because he had four “best friends,” all in different churches, and he didn’t want to play favorites. Must be nice to be so popular, not to mention the blessing of being the first and only son.
Even more annoying, Mom, who never went to church, would volunteer at every VBS. She’d take snacks, help with art projects, do whatever she could to be involved in Chris’s life. She acted like a mother bear sometimes, as though someone might snatch Christopher away and molest him.
Tossing the pen aside, Dawn rubbed her forehead. Thinking about her mother always brought on a stress headache-ironically, the one thing they had in common. After they argued, Mom always retreated into the master suite and put cold compresses on her head or went to an AA meeting.
But their arguments were infrequent. You had to have feelings for someone to fight with them. Her mother didn’t seem to care one way or the other about Dawn. She didn’t hover over her; she just stepped back and watched from a distance, if she watched at all.
Mitch made time for her. Every month, they went on a “date.” The last time, they couldn’t find a movie worth watching and ended up eating dinner at the Western Boot. He talked about Uncle Charlie all evening. She loved hearing about Uncle Charlie. He sounded so cool. He and Mitch had gotten away with major mischief that left her laughing and in awe.
“And what about Mom? Did she get into any trouble?”
“She was a good girl.”
“Yeah, right. She never did anything wrong.”
“Nope.”
“She waited until she got to Haight-Ashbury.”
Mitch didn’t say anything to that.
“Does she ever talk to you about those years?”
He shook his head.
“And you don’t ask?” When he just looked at her, she pressed a little harder. “Shouldn’t you know?”
“Your mother laid her life bare in less than a minute the first time I managed to corner her for lunch. She tore the skin off old wounds, and no, I am not going to betray her trust and tell you anything.”
“Did she say anything about my father? Does she even know who he is?”
Mitch put his napkin on the table and signaled the waiter.
Dawn hung her head. “I’m sorry.” She looked up at her stepfather through her tears. “I don’t want to go yet, Mitch. Please. I’ll behave.”
Mitch told the waiter they’d like to see the dessert selection. Dawn looked at the menu, but she wasn’t hungry. Was it so wrong for her to want to know? “I must remind her of things she’d rather forget.”
Mitch put the menu aside. “You should sit down with her and ask your questions, Dawn.”
“She’d never tell me anything. Every time I even hint, she changes the subject or says she has to go to a meeting. Maybe just talking to me makes her want a drink.”
“I’m not going to get in the middle.”
“Mom and I don’t even speak the same language.”
Dawn tried to put herself in her mother’s shoes. How would she feel if she had a kid out of wedlock, living proof of how she’d messed up her life and needed her parents to pick up the pieces and put her back together? As painful as it might be to go over the past, Dawn wanted to know something about her biological father. Not that Mitch wasn’t a great dad; he was the best. But she didn’t come from his gene pool.
Rubbing her temples, Dawn stared at the wall clock, noting another fifteen minutes before study hall ended. Maybe she’d ask her mother if she could sign up for summer school; at least it would be something to do. She’d already checked at McDonald’s about a job, but she had to be sixteen. If she didn’t find something to do, Granny and Papa would expect her to spend the summer at Jenner by the Sea again, just like last summer and the summer before that and every summer since they’d moved from Paxtown. She loved them dearly, but three months around their house with nothing to do wore her down.
They had books, of course, lots of them, most about building a house from foundation to roof, how to remodel, how to make repairs, plumbing and wiring, etc. Granny collected cookbooks. Dawn wouldn’t have minded learning to cook, but they had a “one-butt kitchen,” as Papa called it, and Granny liked being the only “butt” at the sink and stove. Last summer, Dawn found herself so desperate, she weeded every inch of Granny’s garden below the house.
The class bell rang, jolting Dawn from her reverie. She stuffed her notebook into her backpack, slung it over her shoulder, and headed for the door.
If she wanted to stay home this summer, she was just going to have to spell it out. She’d beg if needed. If Mom said no, she’d enlist Mitch and Christopher’s help. They always had better luck with Mom than she did.
Dinner was almost over before Dawn gathered enough courage to say she wanted to spend summer at home. Mom glanced up, surprised. “But you always spend the summer at Jenner.”
“I know, but I’d rather stay home this year.”
“What’s Granny said about this?”
“I haven’t told her yet.” Avoiding her mother’s look, Dawn smiled at Christopher. “Maybe I can help keep an eye on Little Dweeb when you have an open house.”
“I only do open houses on the weekends, and Mitch is here.”
So much for trust.
“What do you plan to do for three months?” Mitch cut a piece of roast beef and forked it into his mouth.
She batted her eyelashes at him. “You could teach me to drive.”
He laughed in mock horror. “No way! Besides, you’re not old enough.”
“I could learn to drive one of your tractors.”
“And risk my vineyard? I don’t think so.”
“I can help with laundry and cooking.”
Mom spooned a second helping of mashed potatoes onto Christopher’s plate. “Your grandparents will be disappointed. They expect you to spend time with them.”
“I could go out one weekend a month. It’s not like I’m saying I don’t want to spend any time with them.”
Mitch gave her mother a look. “It might be nice having Pita here for a summer. She’s not going to be around that much longer, you know. Three more years and she’ll be off to college.”
“I’m not looking for a fight, Mitch. You know how things are.”
Mitch put his napkin on the table. “I’m going to be late for the elders’ meeting.” He leaned down and kissed Dawn on the cheek. “It’ll be good to have you around this summer, Pita.” He came around the table and kissed her mother full on the mouth. “Won’t it?” He kissed her again. He ruffled Christopher’s thatch of curling reddish brown hair. “No dragging your feet about going to bed tonight, buster. You still have a couple of days of school left.”
Her mother sent Christopher to take a bath and gathered the dinner dishes. She glanced at Dawn’s plate. “You didn’t eat much.”
“Wasn’t hungry. I can help around the house, Mom. Do the dishes. Do the laundry.”
“That’d be nice.” Mom stood at the sink. “Okay.” She turned and looked at Dawn. “On one condition.”
“Anything.”
“You have to tell your grandparents.”
Dawn gave her a half-pleading smile. “I was hoping you would help me with that.”
“No way.” Her mother turned to rinse the plates before putting them in the dishwasher. “They wouldn’t believe me if I told them you’d rather be here than out there with them.”
Dawn worried and rehearsed the call for two days.
“Was it your mother’s idea to make you stay home all summer?”
“No.” Just say it, Dawn! She let her breath out slowly. “I’ve never been home for an entire summer, Granny.”
Silence.
“You’ll still come out on weekends, won’t you?”
Dawn chewed her lip. “Not every weekend, Granny.”
Another silence.
“We were thinking about taking you on a trip to Yellowstone. Papa isn’t getting any younger. This will probably be the last year for doing this kind of thing.”
Granny knew how to apply the screws. “I know you and Papa will have a great time.” She plucked at her bedspread. “I love you, Granny. I’ll call you soon.” She hung up before Granny could add anything else to make her feel even more guilty.
“Everything all right?” Mom stood in the doorway, expression guarded, hands tucked into her apron pockets.
“Everything’s fine.”
“Good.” Her mother took her hands out of her pockets and smiled. “Come on in the kitchen. You can go through my cookbooks and decide what you want to fix for dinner tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow night? But I don’t know how to cook.”
“Cooking is easy. All you have to do is follow directions.”
Panic set in.
Her mother walked ahead of her down the hall, pulled several cookbooks off a shelf, took a pad of paper and a pen from a drawer, and dropped them on the kitchen table. “Figure out what you’d like to cook, make a list of ingredients, and I’ll pick up whatever you need tomorrow morning.” Her mother slung her purse onto her shoulder.
“Aren’t you going to help me?”
“I can’t. Chris’s class is having an end-of-year party.” She opened the refrigerator and took out a bowl of potato salad.
“Mom?”
Her mother paused in the doorway and looked back at her. Dawn wanted to say she hadn’t stayed home to be alone, but to spend time with her mother. The silence stretched, the words sticking in her throat.
Her mother’s expression softened. “Don’t look so worried, Dawn. You’ll do fine without me.”
Dawn listened to the garage door open and close. She flipped open the Joy of Cooking and turned the pages. Shoving the book aside, she put her head in her arms and cried.
Two weeks at home felt like a year. Christopher had a packed social calendar, Mom as chauffeur, while Dawn got to hang around the house, do laundry, plan and fix meals. At least she had company today. Christopher had a rare day at home, and Mom trusted her enough to act as lifeguard while he swam in the backyard pool.
Dawn rubbed sunscreen on her legs while keeping an eye on her little brother. Christopher stopped and sputtered, wiping hair back from his face and treading water in the deep end. Tossing the tube of Coppertone aside, she stood. “Need me to fish you out?”
“No!” He set off again.
Dawn walked to the end of the pool and waited for him. When he grabbed hold of the edge, she tapped him on the head. “Enough already, Chris.” He cleared his eyes and looked at her. She held his wrist. “You’re doing great. Just take a rest, would you please? You’ve done four laps. If you do another, I’m going to have to drag you out and give you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.”
“Gross!” He let her haul him out of the water. Christopher’s wet feet slapped along the smooth concrete. He threw his towel around his shoulders, but still looked like a half-drowned mouse.
She grabbed her towel off the chaise longue and rubbed his hair dry. “I couldn’t even do one lap when I was six.”
“If I can do six laps without stopping, I can be a dolphin. And then I can learn to dive.” Her little brother flipped out his towel and sprawled on his stomach. “Dawn, will you go to VBS with me tomorrow?”
“I’m too old for VBS, buddy.”
“You could be a helper.”
“Doing what? Handing out graham crackers and apple juice? Taking kids to the potty?”
“Come on. Please.” He put his hands together and gave her his practiced puppy-dog look. “Pretty please. I’m supposed to invite someone.”
“Someone from kindergarten to fifth grade, Chris. I’m telling you they don’t sign up sophomores for VBS.”
“High school kids come. They have a band! They help in the classes; they play outdoor games with us.”
“Sounds like VBS has more than enough help already.”
“I told the band kids I have a sister. I said you were pretty.”
“Thanks.”
“I said I’d bring you tomorrow.”
When she glared at him, he stuck out his lip. He could be cute. “Do you get extra points or something?”
“No. But if you go to VBS, you can’t do the wash and Daddy won’t have to wear pink T-shirts.” He grinned broadly.
“Okay. That’s it!” Dawn jumped up, grabbed him by an arm and a leg, and headed for edge of the pool. “Time for a few more laps!” He squealed with laughter as she swung him back and forth and launched him into the deep end of the pool. He popped up quickly, grinning from ear to ear and hollering for her to do it again.
Cornerstone Covenant Church turned out to be a large warehouse with metal roll-up doors in the Windsor Industrial Park. Volunteers had pitched two huge tents in the empty back lot. It looked more like a circus than a church.
Christopher grabbed Dawn’s hand. “We have to go to chapel first!” He hauled her into a huge concrete-floored room with basketball hoops on either end. No pews, just folding chairs. Bright colored banners hung on the walls. Faith. Hope. Joy. Love One Another. The largest was purple with gold names appliquéd: Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Wonderful Counselor, Prince of Peace, Jesus, King of Kings.
Mom laughed. “It’s not exactly what I expected either.” She carried a tray of iced cupcakes and nodded toward a door. “The kitchen is that way.”
“No, Mom. Dawn has to come with me.” Christopher pulled her into the throng of kids. “Come on! They’re going to start in a minute. My class is down front.”
Her heart jumped when she spotted Jason Steward, one of the best-looking guys at school, on the raised platform with four other teens. They wore black Levis and canary yellow T-shirts with Christ is Lord emblazoned in red letters. Kim Archer, a pretty brunette who was a cheerleader at Healdsburg High, and another girl, Sharon something-or-other, had been in Dawn’s PE class. Both had seemed nice. One of the guys plugged a guitar into an amplifier while the other did a drumroll and hit the cymbals. Jason caught a hand microphone tossed by a man near the stage. Raising one hand, he held the mike to his mouth. “Good morning, everybody!”
The children shouted back. “Good morning!”
He laughed. “Is that the best you can do?” He put his hand to his ear. “I can barely hear you!” The guitar player made a loud, warbling chord that had everyone shouting good morning again. Jason called out, “This is a day the Lord has made!” Another loud chord, more cheering. “Let’s rejoice and be glad in it! Let’s hear you! Good morning!”
Dawn wanted to cover her ears.
“That’s better! Come on, everybody! Let’s worship the Lord!”
The drummer went wild, his head bobbing up and down, while Jason and Sharon sang and Kim played keyboard. It seemed more like a rock concert than vacation Bible school.
A hundred children, plus teachers and volunteers, clapped their hands and sang the words projected on an overhead screen. Christopher kept pulling her forward, waving wildly. “Hey, Jason! I brought my big sister!”
Dawn wanted to duck down among the throng and hide. She pulled Christopher’s arm down. Too late. Jason Steward looked straight at her and smiled broadly as he sang.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“That’s Jason Steward! He told me to bring you! Isn’t he the coolest?”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“Don’t go!” Christopher grabbed her hand again. Dawn pried loose and looked for escape. Boxed in with children all around her, there was no path out of this mob. Christopher joined in the clapping and singing. Dawn locked her attention on the overhead screen and lip-synched the words.
She’d spotted Jason her first day of high school. Who wouldn’t? He was drop-dead gorgeous with black hair, hazel eyes, and olive skin. He looked a mix of Caucasian, Hispanic, and Asian. He’d been standing in the corridor of lockers, talking with a couple of guys. He had a contagious laugh. Later, she had seen him sitting at a picnic table under the redwoods, having lunch with a group of kids. She caught a glimpse of him every day on her way to English class. He’d caught her staring at him once and smiled. Mortified, she’d been careful not to stare after that.
Instead, she’d sit where he wouldn’t notice her, watching him toss a football back and forth with the jocks during lunch break. Jason Steward was nice to everyone-geeks; pretty, popular cheerleaders; and even gangster types. She’d see him standing under the redwood trees near the student parking lot, talking with people. She’d seen him alone only a couple of times during the whole year, and she had never had the courage to utter hello.
Was her face still as red as it felt?
After three more songs, Jason handed the microphone over to Pastor Daniel Archer, who prayed, made some announcements, and then dismissed the children by groups.
“I’m going to go help Mom.”
“No, you’re not!” Christopher grabbed her hand again. “You have to come to my class.”
“What am I? your show-and-tell?”
“I told Jason you’d help.”
She let her brother lead her out of the chapel into the blinding morning sunlight and through the gate in the cyclone fence. “Come on!” He pulled her along. Glancing back, he let go, and his face broke into a broad smile. “Hey, Jason!”
Dawn gulped, but didn’t turn around. She prodded Christopher. “You have to get to your class. Where is it?”
“Wait for Jason.”
She wanted to throttle him. “We’ve gotta go.”
Jason caught up with them. “Hi.” He smiled at her, and she felt the heat rising into her cheeks again.
“Hi.” She cast a quick smile in his general direction. “Bye.” She ducked inside the tent after her brother. Heart knocking, she stayed in back as Christopher grabbed a square of carpet and ran forward to sit among a gaggle of other leggy boys and girls his age. His teacher, Mrs. Preston, had a felt board. Oh, boy. Oh, boy.
Jason came inside the tent and stood beside her. “Christopher said he’d bring his sister today. You go to Healdsburg High, don’t you? I’ve seen you around.”
“Yeah.” Gawking at him, most likely. She glanced up briefly and then fixed her gaze on the back of Christopher’s head.
“Chris didn’t tell me your name.”
“May Flower Dawn Arundel.” Her face went hot again. What possessed her to say her whole name? “People call me Dawn.”
“People call me Jason.” He stepped in front of her and held his hand out. “Nice to meet you, Dawn. Thanks for agreeing to help.” When his fingers closed around her hand, she tingled all over. His expression turned curious. “Arundel? Not Hastings.”
Once he released her hand, she breathed easier. “Christopher is my half brother.”
“He’s a great kid.”
“He has his moments.” She swallowed hard. “Now that I’m here, I’m just not sure what I’m supposed to do.”
“Help me set up the art project.” He smiled and gestured toward two long tables covered with butcher paper on the left side of the tent. “They’re making burning bushes today.” While Mrs. Preston gave a dramatic reading of Moses fleeing into the wilderness, Jason laid out the trays of supplies. “They’re going to glue down twigs to make a bush, drop paint, and use a straw to blow it around like flames.”
“Clever.”
His dark eyes shone with amusement. “Yeah, well, tomorrow’s lesson is on the plagues of Egypt. They’re making green paper-plate frogs. You are coming back to help, aren’t you?”
“Let’s see how today goes.” She’d be back. She just didn’t want to sound too eager. She laid a piece of paper and a small pile of twigs by each folding chair.
Jason put out paint, brushes, and straws. “Christopher told me he wants to be in a rock band.”
“Last week, he wanted to be an astronaut; yesterday he wanted to be a dolphin in swim class so he can learn to dive.”
Jason laughed. “Reminds me of myself at his age.” It took them less than five minutes to put everything needed on the table. “Our work’s done for the moment.” He pulled out a folding chair for her, turned another around, and straddled it. Crossing his arms on the back, he looked her straight in the eyes and smiled warmly. “What about you?”
She was close enough to see the flecks of gold in the green, the rim of brown around his pupil. “What about me?”
“Do you know what you want to do with your life?”
“I haven’t got a clue. Have fun, I guess.” Could she have said anything more inane and shallow? “You’ll be a senior, right? You probably have your future all planned out.”
“I have a couple of ideas. My mom would like me to be an engineer. Pastor Daniel thinks I should go into the ministry. Maybe I can figure out a way to do both.”
“How?” They seemed diametrically opposed.
“There’s a lot more to ministry than just working at a church. God needs workers in all kinds of businesses, too. I’ve been asking Him to show me which direction to go, and I know He will.”
She’d never heard anyone talk so naturally about God, though she didn’t see what God would have to do with Jason’s decision. Wasn’t it all about free will? “Why would God care what you do? I mean, doesn’t He want us to decide for ourselves? That’s what I’ve been told. It’s up to us to find out what makes us happy.”
He tilted his head to one side. “Well, yes, God wants us to be happy. But there’s a whole lot more to it than that.”
“Really? What do you mean?” Jason Steward sure wasn’t what she had expected.
“God gave each of us specific talents and abilities. He has plans for us. He has a purpose for your life.”
“My life? I’m not so sure about that.”
“You can be. It starts with being in an intimate relationship with Him. Then, just like any other relationship, it will influence what you want, what you do, what you believe.”
The conversation was starting to make her uncomfortable. “Intimate isn’t exactly a word I’d use about God.”
Jason stood. “Hey, just think about it. If you open the door and let Him in, everything in your life is going to change. I promise.”
Maybe that’s why he’d told Christopher to bring her. To evangelize her. She didn’t care one way or another about God. She just wanted to keep Jason talking. “Is that what happened to you?”
His eyes glowed. “Yeah.” He looked behind her. “Ready or not, here they come.” He swung his chair back into place as Christopher and his friends surrounded the table and found seats. Dawn helped her brother get started on his project, then helped a couple of the other kids. Jason introduced her to Mrs. Preston, who said Christopher was a terrific kid and a pleasure to have in class. As if Dawn hadn’t heard that a thousand times before.
It didn’t take long to finish the burning bushes. Mrs. Preston called the children together and took them outside, where she handed them over to other volunteers who gave them a choice of games to play.
Jason stood beside Dawn. “Do you go to church?”
She said, “Of course,” and told him where. When he asked about their youth group, she shrugged and said with a congregation of less than a hundred and comprised mostly of people older than her stepdad, who was in his forties, there weren’t enough teenagers to have one.
“Come to ours then. We meet here tonight at seven thirty. We hang out, play basketball, eat junk food, and have a Bible study. Give it a try. See what you think.”
“I’d have to ask my mother.” Mom might disapprove, but she wouldn’t have grounds for argument. She was bringing Christopher to VBS here, after all.
“Do you need a ride?”
Her heart fluttered. Would he offer to pick her up if she said yes? “We live in Alexander Valley.”
“I can introduce you to someone who lives up that way.”
“Never mind.”
A piercing whistle came from the parking lot. Jason gave a wave. “I have to get back to the sanctuary and set up for the closing. Thanks for helping today, Dawn. Hope I see you tonight… and tomorrow.”
She looked for Jason when she accompanied Christopher’s class back into the warehouse. He stood on the platform, talking and laughing with the two girls who had been onstage with him while the classes settled into their designated seats. Pastor Daniel had the microphone again and encouraged everyone to get settled quickly. He explained how the children’s offerings would buy books for an orphanage in Mexico. He asked if anyone had a guest. Dawn held Christopher’s hand down. Pastor Daniel went on. “Keep giving out those invitations! We have plenty of room for more.”
He tossed the microphone to Jason, who had everyone up and singing again. After several songs, Jason gave a short closing prayer and called out, “See you all tomorrow!”
Dawn grabbed Christopher’s hand and headed for Mom standing against the wall with several other women. She came toward them and smiled at Dawn. “I see you survived.”
“It was okay, I guess.” She didn’t want to sound overly enthusiastic and have Mom wonder why. “I said I’d help again tomorrow. One of the guys invited me to youth group tonight.”
“Invited?” Her mother gave her a quick glance. “As in asking you for a date?”
“No. He just said to come. He thought I might enjoy it.”
“I’d rather you didn’t go.”
Dawn bristled. “Why not?” Christopher could do anything he wanted, but she asked for something and the answer was no?
“You have a church.”
“So does Christopher, but that didn’t stop you from signing him up for VBS at Cornerstone.”
“Because Mitch’s church doesn’t have one.”
“It doesn’t have a youth group either.”
“VBS only lasts three more days, Dawn.”
“I’m not asking if I can join the church, Mom. I just want to see what youth group is like. I’d like to hang out with kids my own age, Christian kids.”
“Let me think about it.”
The CCC youth group consisted of fewer than twenty kids, mostly girls grouped together and talking while five guys played basketball. Another guest invited by Jason, Tom Barrett, had come to stick his toes carefully in religious waters. As soon as he was introduced, Jason took him to join in the basketball game. Kim Archer, the pastor’s daughter, took charge of Dawn, inviting her to grab a folding chair from those stacked against a wall and join the gaggle of girls. Dawn knew some of them already, their names at least. She’d seen Sharon Bright, Pam Preston, Linda Doile, and Amy King at school, not that they would recognize her.
“Hey,” Sharon said. “You were in my PE class. Dawn ran right past everyone during track.”
Dawn added her chair to the circle. “I played soccer for six years. Coach Perez made us run a mile before every practice.”
Pam twisted her hair up and put a clip in it. “Why didn’t you try out for the team? We could use you.”
“Thought I’d take a break. Try something else.”
“Such as?”
“Studying.”
“That’s where I’ve seen you.” Linda crossed her ankles. “In study hall. You sat in the back row by the windows.”
“Yep.”
The girls talked about school and how their summers were shaping up. Dawn took quick, surreptitious glances at Jason playing basketball with the guys. Sharon said her family was heading for Tahoe next week for a family gathering. Linda had a job in a pizza parlor near the downtown mall. Amy wished she had a job at the mall. She was working as a nanny for three children. She almost hadn’t come this evening. Bed had looked pretty good, and she had to be back at the Johnsons’ by six thirty in the morning. Kim answered the church telephone. She was filling in for the church secretary, Mrs. Carson, who was in Los Angeles helping move her mother into a residential care facility.
“What about you, Dawn?” Kim asked. “What are you doing this summer?”
Dawn pulled her gaze away from Jason. “Not much. I don’t have a driver’s license, and we live out in Alexander Valley.” She shrugged. “I’m doing laundry and cooking for the family. So far, no one has died.”
Pam laughed. “My mother says you were a big help in her VBS class this morning.”
“All I did was put out some art supplies.”
“I’ll say thank you anyway. You saved me from being drafted into duty.” She shuddered expressively.
The basketball bounced their way. “Hey, ladies!” Jason called. “Save us some steps?” Dawn got up, caught it, and gave it a light kick so that it landed right in his hands. “Good kick!” He grinned and dribbled the ball halfway down the court, passing it to Tom Barrett, who took two steps, jumped, and shot it smoothly over the heads of three others. It dropped perfectly into the basket. Jason and Tom gave each other high fives.
Sharon laughed as Dawn sat down. “Well, we all know why you came tonight.”
“What?” Dawn pretended not to know.
“Jason Steward.” Sharon stretched out her long, jean-clad legs. “Join the club. We’ve all had a crush on him at one time or another.”
When she glanced over, Jason was looking at her. He quickly looked away. Raising his hand, he called out to Tom, who passed him the ball.
When Pastor Daniel came in, everyone made a circle of chairs. Everyone but Dawn had brought a Bible, even Tom Barrett. Kim said not to worry about it and shared hers. The pastor called on the regulars to read portions of the book of Daniel, then pointed out how a few teenagers made an impact on a godless society. He challenged them to make a difference wherever they were: high school, mall, babysitting.
When the study portion ended, everyone hung around, nibbling chips, eating leftover VBS cupcakes, drinking sodas, and talking. Jason had picked up Tom Barrett. They walked out and stood talking to a couple of the guys in the parking lot. Dawn spotted her mom’s tan Suburban and headed for it. Pam Preston caught up with her. “I’m glad you came tonight. Can I meet your mom?”
“Sure. I guess.” Dawn opened the car door. “Mom, this is Pam Preston; Pam, my mom, Mrs. Hastings.”
Pam leaned in to shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Hastings. We live on the north side of Healdsburg. I could pick up Dawn next week.”
Mom looked dubious. “It’s nice of you, but-”
“I’ve had my license for two years and haven’t gotten a ticket. My mom says I drive like an old lady. You can ask her when you bring Christopher to VBS tomorrow.”
Mom smiled politely. “I’ll take your word for it, Pam.” Dawn got into the car and closed the door. “She seems nice enough. How well do you know her?”
“She’s on the high school soccer team.” Dawn watched Pam talking to Kim and Pastor Daniel.
“So what was it like?”
“We read about Daniel.” Dawn leaned back as her mother drove out of the parking lot. “There’s a lot more to him than surviving a night in a lion’s den. I felt like such an idiot. Everyone had a Bible. I don’t even know where mine is.”
“I’m sorry they made you feel inferior.”
“No, Mom.” Dawn didn’t want her getting the wrong idea. “It wasn’t like that at all. It’s just that I’ve been going to church with Mitch since second grade, but I don’t know a fraction of what those kids know.”
“Granny and Papa read you Bible stories when you were little, didn’t they?”
“Yeah. Simplified versions with pictures. Pastor Daniel made something written thousands of years ago sound like current events. Rev. Jackson doesn’t exactly light my fire when he preaches.”
“Boots gave me a Bible when I lived with her.”
“Wasn’t she Granny’s friend? the one who died of cancer a few years ago?”
“Yes. She was my friend, too. She’s the one who encouraged my interest in Scripture.”
“I didn’t know you even had a Bible, let alone read one.”
“I didn’t mean to shock you.”
“Well, it’s not like I’ve ever seen you reading it.”
“I have a quiet time every morning. In the privacy of my room, so I can think about what I’m reading.”
“But you never go to church.”
Mom kept her eyes straight ahead.
“Why don’t you?”
Her mother lifted one shoulder and shifted her hands on the steering wheel. “I’m not comfortable in church.”
“Did Boots go?”
“Christmas and Easter. Like me, she felt more at home in AA meetings. We both have the same Higher Power: Jesus.”
“AA isn’t the same as church, Mom.”
“How would you know?”
Dawn hadn’t meant to sound critical. This was the first time her mom had talked to her about anything remotely personal. Dawn didn’t want to ruin it. “Is it?”
“For me, it’s better.” She gave Dawn a bleak smile. “We all know we’re sinners in AA. No one wears a mask.”
Every Wednesday, Dawn hitched a ride to Cornerstone youth group with Pam Preston. After meetings, they hung out until Pastor Daniel locked up and headed home with Kim. Then Dawn piled into Pam’s Honda with Sharon, Linda, and Amy; and they all went to Taco Bell to have sodas and nachos and talk about boys, movies, movie stars, clothes, makeup, and the latest diet craze. Tom Barrett called Dawn for a date. So did Steven Dial. Dawn made excuses, hoping Jason would call. He didn’t. She saw him at youth group, but he didn’t talk to her much.
Pastor Daniel started a new summer study on chastity and talked at length about running from sin and avoiding youthful passions and how rebellion against God led to a ruined life. “Joseph had to run from Potiphar’s wife when she tried to seduce him. Learn from Joseph. God wants you to be pure, and that’s not going to be easy in a world that encourages promiscuity.”
Jason glanced at her once, but she didn’t look back at him. Discussion moved to advertising, movies, music, attitudes at school, the media, new provocative styles of dress.
Jason didn’t come to the next meeting.
“He can’t come for the rest of the summer,” Kim told Dawn. “My dad knows someone at Raley’s, and they helped Jason get a job there. He’s working nights stocking shelves and cleaning floors.”
“Oh. That’s great.” Dawn tried to sound enthusiastic. “So he’s not coming back?”
“Not until school starts. Maybe not then either. He has to save money for college.”
She felt niggling jealousy. She liked Kim. She liked her a lot, but she seemed to know quite a bit about Jason’s private life. “Well, say hi when you see him.”
“I don’t see him. He comes by and talks with my dad.” She gave Dawn a knowing smile. “If you want to see him, you’ll have to come to church.”
“I can’t.”
Kim’s brows went up. “Why not?”
“I promised my mother I’d keep going to Mitch’s church if she let me come to youth group.”
“Oh.” Kim looked sympathetic. “Then I guess you’re going to have to wait five weeks until school starts.” She gave Dawn a curious look. “You said ‘Mitch’s church.’ Doesn’t your mom go with you?”
Dawn shook her head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I have no idea. My grandmother said she used to go all the time, and then she just quit.”
She couldn’t get Jason out of her mind for the rest of the week. The thought of going through the rest of the summer without so much as a glimpse of him depressed her.
“Why so glum, Pita?” Mitch asked over dinner. “The spaghetti and salad are great. You’re becoming a fine cook.”
Dawn lifted one shoulder and poked at her food. “Doesn’t take a lot of talent to boil noodles, dump Ragu on them, and tear up a head of lettuce.”
He chuckled. “Maybe you need to challenge yourself more. Try some fancy French cuisine tomorrow night.”
She sighed heavily. “Getting through the rest of summer is going to be challenge enough.”
Mom frowned as she lifted her glass of ice water. “Since Christopher won’t go to camp for two weeks, I thought this might be a good time to go down to Merced and see Oma.” She sipped and set her glass down without looking at Dawn. “We’ll be back in plenty of time for camp.”
Christopher’s exuberant mood collapsed. He groaned and launched into excuses. He wanted to play with his friends. He wanted to swim and Oma only had sprinklers. He wanted…
Mom glowered at him. “Be quiet, Christopher.”
Mitch leaned back in his chair. “Why don’t you take Dawn this year?”
“She wants to stay home for the summer.”
“Granny called.” Christopher jumped in again. “She and Papa are coming in to pick Dawn up and take her out to Jenner by the Sea for the weekend.”
Dawn’s heart sank. She’d forgotten all about it. “You could go instead of me. Granny and Papa would love to have you spend a weekend with them. Or a week, for that matter.”
“The beach! Cool!” Christopher turned a bright smile on Mom. “Could I, Mom?”
“No.” Her tone came out flat and hard enough to keep Christopher from asking again. Dawn wondered why it was fine for her to spend an entire summer, but her mother wouldn’t even allow Christopher to spend a night. What sense did that make? They were his grandparents, too, for heaven’s sake.
Mitch spoke up. “Christopher can stay home with me. Take Dawn. You two haven’t had a trip alone together in a long time.” Dawn wanted to snort. They had never been on a trip together. Mitch looked at Christopher. “What do you say we make it men only for a week?” He winked. “Pizza delivery, steak at the Western Boot, rent a dozen movies. We could play some golf. What do you say, buddy? Wanna stick around the hacienda with dear old Dad?”
“Yeah!” Christopher turned to Mom and made prayer hands. He stuck out his lower lip and made it quiver pathetically. “Please, Mom.” Not waiting to see if his playacting worked, he jumped up and wrapped his arms around her neck and kissed her cheek three or four times.
Mitch laughed. “How can you turn the boy down?”
Mom, mouth twitching, rolled her eyes at Mitch. “Okay, Christopher, okay…” She laughed.
Sometimes Dawn felt like an outsider watching the three of them. She was a cuckoo left in a warbler’s nest.
“Only promise me one thing, Mitch.”
His eyes grew warm as he looked at Mom. “Anything.”
“Please don’t take him out on your Harley.”
“Aw, Mom!” Christopher groaned.
Dawn chewed her lower lip. Her mother was going to Merced for a week. Just because she’d agreed to leave Christopher home with Mitch didn’t mean she wanted to take her daughter with her. Dawn remembered how Mom and Oma would have afternoon tea on the wisteria-covered patio in Paxtown. Granny never sat with them, and when Dawn had, the conversation felt stilted. Mom and Oma always seemed to have things to talk about. And Mom was one of the most reticent people Dawn knew; she hardly talked to anyone, except Mitch, and then mostly in quiet voices or behind closed doors.
While Christopher came up with a dozen more ideas on how he wanted to be entertained for a week, making Mom and Mitch laugh, Dawn spoke up. “Can I go with you to Merced, Mom?” She held her breath as her mother considered it.
“I think it’s time you did.”
Mom wanted to leave early. Dawn packed shorts and tops, sandals and toiletries in a duffel bag and set her alarm for five. She didn’t want Mom leaving without her. She lay in bed wide-awake thinking about Jason. He’d be working right now, stacking cans on shelves or sweeping and polishing the floors of the grocery store. He’d probably met some pretty checker a couple of years older and wiser, some fast girl who’d promise him a good time and know how to keep herself out of trouble. Rolling over, Dawn punched her pillow. She hoped Jason had been listening to Pastor Daniel. She hoped he’d run like Joseph did when Potiphar’s wife tried to seduce him. Run, Jason! Run!
Bleary-eyed in the morning, Dawn dressed and took her duffel bag into the kitchen. Mom sat with a cup of coffee, a pensive look on her face. She glanced up in surprise. “I thought I’d have to wake you.”
“I set my alarm. I didn’t want you sneaking off without me.”
Her mother gave a soft, humorless laugh. “I wouldn’t do that. Would you like breakfast before we leave?”
“I’d rather eat along the way. Could we?”
Mitch came out in sweatpants and a T-shirt, his red hair sticking up all over his head like a little boy’s. Mom’s eyes softened and glowed.
“Didn’t want you going without a kiss.”
Dawn rolled her eyes. “I’ll be in the car.” She grabbed her duffel bag. One thing hadn’t changed in the eight years Dawn had known Mitch. He still couldn’t keep his hands off her mother.
It would be nice if Jason felt that way about her. Just thinking about him made Dawn’s blood warm.
Mom followed her out. “I thought we’d take our time and use country roads. Do you know how to read a map?”
“Not really.”
Mom opened a California map and refolded it. “We’re here. Just follow the yellow highlighted roads. We’re going to follow this little black line to Calistoga and meet up with Highway 29 through Yountville and Napa.” She traced the route with her finger. “We connect here with Highway 12 and then head east through Rio Vista.”
“Great.” Dawn tried to make sense of the map. “Have you gone this way before?”
“Yes, but you haven’t.”
“We could end up in Sacramento with me as guide.”
“You’ll be fine.”
Christopher probably talked Mom’s ear off when they went on their excursions. Dawn didn’t feel much like talking. She kept thinking about Jason, trying to figure out a way to see him before school started. She looked out the window at the hedgerows of blooming roses. Mitch had rosebushes all around his vineyard too. He told her they drew bees for pollination, but were sensitive to disease and gave vintners early warning so they could take preventive measures if necessary to save their vines.
The road went through Napa and took them south of town onto Highway 12. Dawn watched for signs. “There’s the turnoff to Interstate 80.” The road snaked through the hills and curved onto the interstate. Dawn warned of the exit to Rio Vista.
Mom smiled as she took the off-ramp. “Good job.”
Dawn felt inordinately pleased. “Thanks.” She gave her mother a bright smile. “I can relax now, right? We’re on the road to Lodi.”
“Oh, Lord, stuck in Lodi again.”
Dawn looked at her, wondering what on earth her mother meant.
“It was a Creedence Clearwater song.” Mom shrugged. “Way back when.”
The road narrowed and took them over undulating hills covered with dry grass. A C-130 military transport took off from Travis Air Force Base and flew overhead. Dawn leaned forward, watching it make a wide circle. “Practice landings, probably,” Mom told her, eyes straight ahead.
“Didn’t you and Mitch take Christopher to an air show at Travis while I was at Jenner last summer?”
“We didn’t think you’d be interested.”
Dawn hadn’t been asked, but then bringing that up would only build a thicker wall between them. They crossed over a delta slough and drove on to Lodi, where they found a small diner. Dawn ordered waffles and scrambled eggs with bacon.
“You must have Oma’s metabolism.” Mom ordered a small bowl of fruit and a cup of coffee. The waitress went off to place the order.
Dawn toyed with the menu and tucked it back into the stand that held the sugar dispenser, salt and pepper shakers, and a bottle of ketchup. “Did Papa teach you how to read a map?”
“No. I learned on my own.” Mom put her hands in her lap like a schoolgirl. “I once drove from San Francisco to Bethel, New York, and back again.”
Dawn stared at her, amazed. “By yourself?” That sort of an adventure didn’t fit her mother.
“I was with a friend.”
“What was in Bethel, New York?”
“Woodstock.”
Bemused, Dawn pictured the little yellow bird in a Charlie Brown cartoon. “Woodstock.”
Her mother looked amused. “Ancient history, I guess. It was a rock concert.”
Dawn laughed in disbelief. “You drove thousands of miles across country to go to a rock concert?”
She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Me, Chel, and lots of other people from around the country. It wasn’t just a rock concert. It was a happening.”
Chel seemed an odd name. “Was Chel a guy?” Her father, perhaps?
“Rachel Altman. She was my best friend.”
“Oh.” Then why didn’t her mother ever talk about her? Why hadn’t she ever heard the name? Dawn played with the silverware. “How was it?” She glanced up. “Woodstock, I mean.”
“Great. The music, at least.”
Talking to her mother was like trying to scrape burned spaghetti out of a pot. “What wasn’t great about it?”
“Well, it rained. The field turned to mud. There wasn’t any shelter. The few outhouses overflowed. The food ran out.” She shrugged. “The organizers didn’t think any more than two hundred thousand would come. Five hundred thousand showed up.”
“Five hundred thousand?” Dawn tried to imagine that many people in an open field and couldn’t.
“Everyone came to celebrate the music.” Mom’s expression became distant. “We all talked of peace and love, though it was already too late. We were so naive.”
Naiveté had never been one of the faults Granny laid at Mom’s feet.
The waitress brought their breakfasts. Mom thanked her and unrolled her silverware from the paper napkin. She might as well have put up a sign: Silence, please! Dawn ignored it. “I’ve never heard you talk about Rachel Altman, Mom.” Not that it was all that surprising. She’d never heard her mother talk about anyone! Now that Dawn had a name from her mother’s past, she wanted to know more.
“Haven’t you?” Mom didn’t raise her eyes. “I thought Granny might have mentioned her.”
“Nope.” If Granny had, Dawn couldn’t remember. “Are you still in touch with her? I mean, if you were best friends and all…”
“No.” The word came out firm and flat. End of conversation. Her mother poked at the fruit and speared a piece of melon. “What classes are you taking this year?”
“English, geometry, social studies, PE, biology.” She’d be studying human anatomy and physiology this year, too.
“What about Spanish? You’ll need a foreign language if you want to go to a university.”
“Spanish, too. I forgot. Not that I’m all that excited about going to college.”
Mom glanced up. “What do you want to do?”
“I want to get married. I want to have children. I want to be a housewife.” Dawn laughed at herself. “Hardly considered a worthy goal, is it? I’m supposed to want a career.” Dawn forked eggs into her mouth, pleased to have shocked her mother. At least she was getting some reaction out of her.
When they headed off again, Dawn yawned. “I’m so tired.” She looked at the map. “I hardly slept last night.”
“I wouldn’t have left you behind.”
Dawn had hoped they’d talk all the way down, but the silences grew longer. She might as well take a nap so the time would go more quickly. As she dozed off, she thought she felt her mother’s fingers lightly brush the hair back from her face.
Dawn awakened when the car stopped. “We’re here!” Mom sounded light and happy. They were parked in front of a small house with a single-car garage. Dawn got out and went around the back for her duffel bag. She stood on the sidewalk looking down a long, straight street lined with old elm trees and small houses that all looked alike except for the color and landscaping. Oma’s house was yellow with white trim and a bright red door. Red, yellow, and white roses bloomed profusely below a front window. A cement walk led to the front steps and postage-stamp porch.
The front door was opened by a wizened old lady with permed white hair and wire-rimmed glasses. She was wearing a blue dress with white polka dots and collar. “It’s going to be a scorcher.”
Mom hurried up the steps and hugged Oma. Dawn felt shy. Oma’s hands looked like bird claws on Mom’s back. “It’s good to see you, Liebling. And I noticed you brought someone special with you.”
Mom straightened and turned, eyes glistening with tears. “Dawn asked to come along.”
“Did she?” Oma smiled at Dawn. “Well, come on in where it’s cool.”
An oscillating fan whirred on a stool set up in the kitchen doorway, stirring the heavy air across the tiny, simply furnished living room. A gilt-framed print of snow-covered mountains and green meadows hung on the wall. A recliner sat near the windows with a white crocheted afghan tossed over one arm. A reading lamp stood on one side and a side table stacked with books on the other.
Oma waved toward the short hall. “Carolyn, you can take the front bedroom.” Mom disappeared around the corner with her suitcase. “Dawn, the family room is through the kitchen and down the steps on your right. You can use the hide-a-bed.”
Dawn stepped around the stool with the oscillating fan and went into the kitchen. She liked the glossy yellow walls with white trim and colorful chicken-print curtains. An ancient gas stove and a small, round-fronted refrigerator were on her right. Three red vinyl, chrome-leg chairs and a table covered with a blue- and white-checkered oilcloth sat against the back wall. A big window looked out onto a large backyard with a stretch of green lawn and a tree loaded with lemons, oranges, and limes.
Dawn went through the side doorway at the back of the kitchen and stepped down into the family room. It looked more like a library. Shelves laden with books covered the back wall. Dawn dumped her duffel bag beside the green hide-a-bed with needlepoint pillows and took a closer look at Oma’s collection. Each shelf held books on a different topic: the ancient history of Egypt; Babylonian, Assyrian, Chinese, European, and British history; American history; biographies. Several shelves held books on farming and business management. One shelf held novels, all classics, all on Dawn’s college preparatory reading list.
The backyard beckoned. Stepping outside, she inhaled the sweet scent of wisteria, roses, and sweet alyssum mingling with freshly mown lawn. Bees buzzed in the Joseph’s Coat roses climbing posts supporting the white lattice patio cover. Two white wicker chairs with green- and white-striped cushions and a yellow and white couch swing looked inviting. Red, purple, and pink fuchsias spilled from hanging pots.
The kitchen window slid open. “May Flower Dawn!” Oma called out to her. “Iced tea or lemonade?”
How long since anyone had called her May Flower Dawn? Only Mom ever did it, and not very often.
“Lemonade, please.” She came back inside and found Mom sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of iced tea. She looked so relaxed and pretty, her blue eyes shining. “It’s so good to be here, Oma.” She clearly meant it.
Oma’s hand shook, spilling some lemonade, as she set a glass in front of Dawn.
“Drat it all. Lucky I didn’t spill it all over you. I’m shaking worse than ever.”
“What did the doctor say?” Mom wanted to know.
“He said I’m getting old.” She snorted. “As if I didn’t know. I see myself in the mirror every morning when I put in my dentures.” She scowled. “But let’s get serious. Angel food cake now or after supper?”
Mom laughed. “How about now and after supper?”
“That’s my girl.” Oma winked at Dawn. “Still has her sweet tooth. How about you, Miss May Flower Dawn?”
Just Dawn, she wanted to say, but stopped herself. She’d never seen her mother in such a lighthearted mood and didn’t want to spoil it. “Any time is a good time for dessert.”
“Good answer.”
Mom told Oma to sit; she’d take care of serving. Oma eased herself into a chair. While Mom cut the cake, Oma asked about Christopher and Mitch. One question from Oma and words spilled from Mom’s mouth. Dawn had never heard her mother talk so much or so easily. Nor had Dawn ever tasted anything as good as Oma’s angel food cake. Granny’s didn’t come close.
“And what about you?” Oma asked Dawn. “What’s going on in your life?”
“Not much.” Dawn shrugged. “Other than I have a massive crush on a gorgeous guy I met at a youth group.” She couldn’t believe she had blurted out that bit of news. Oma was practically a stranger.
“And you left him all alone to come down here and visit an old lady? I’m flattered.”
“Unfortunately, Jason barely knows I exist.”
Dawn collected the empty plates and put them in the sink. “Would you mind if I sat outside on your patio? It’s so pretty out there, and I love your swing.”
Oma waved her hand. “Make yourself to home.”
Dawn stretched out on the swing, one foot on the patio to push off. She gazed dreamily through the red, orange, and golden blossoms of the Joseph’s Coat above her. She hadn’t known what to expect, but she liked it here. Granny said Oma could be unapproachable and rather cold, a woman who expected perfection, but so far, Dawn hadn’t gotten that feeling. Maybe age had mellowed Oma. If her great-grandmother had always expected perfection, why would she and Mom be such bosom buddies? Mom had broken moral laws and Granny’s heart right along with them.
With the kitchen window cracked open, Dawn could hear Mom and Oma talking inside the house. Though words were indistinct, the constant babble and frequent laughter told her clearly how well they got along, how much they loved each other.
It had always been that way. Granny said they had a private club with only two members and it was no use trying to break in. But Oma had welcomed Dawn today. She had seemed genuinely glad to have her come down for the week. Dawn hadn’t really expected that.
The back door opened and Oma came outside. “Mind if we join you?”
Dawn grinned at her. “As long as I don’t have to give up the swing.”
“You stay put. I have to move the sprinkler.” She went out and pulled on the hose.
Mom came outside, carrying two frosty glasses of lemonade. She set one on the side table near the swing. “I thought you might like a refill.” She sat in one of the white wicker chairs. “It’s hot out here, isn’t it? Like a sauna.”
Oma dragged the hose, the sprinkler flipping over and over. “So what do you think, Dawn?” She snapped the hose and the sprinkler righted itself. She headed back for the covered patio.
“About what?”
Oma settled into the other wicker chair. “Being down here with your mom.”
“I’m glad I came.”
“Good.” Oma put her head back and let out her breath. Her mouth curved into a Mona Lisa smile.
The three of them sat in the family room that evening and watched Jeopardy! Oma knew every question in every category before the contestants. Amazed, Dawn asked if she’d ever tried to go on the show. “You’d make a fortune, Oma!”
“Might have made sense thirty years ago when I needed the money, but I have more than I need now. What would I do with a fortune other than leave it to my kids and ruin their lives? And don’t give me that cheeky grin. It’d be even worse giving it to grandchildren or great-grandchildren. Take away all your incentive to make something of your life. It’s the hard days of scrambling for enough that you’ll look back on with fondness when you’re a dinosaur like me.”
“Granny says every parent wants to make things easier on their children.”
Oma turned the volume down with the remote while a commercial played. “Making things easier on your children is sometimes the worst thing you can do. Of course, sometimes it’s easier for you. But what does it do in the long term?” She put the remote aside. “Take your granny as an example. She was a sickly baby. If I’d kept on coddling her, she’d have grown up weak. But she’s strong. She developed dreams of her own and went after them.”
Dawn winced. “I forgot. She said to say hi to you.”
Oma grunted. “Next time you talk to her, tell her I’d rather have a call from her than a relayed message.”
Mom patted Oma’s hand and kissed her cheek before getting up. “I’m going to bed.”
“Sleep as long as you want, Carolyn. You’re on vacation.”
Mom wished Dawn a good night and went up the steps into the kitchen. Oma moved to give Dawn more room on the sofa. “Since this is your bedroom, you let me know when you want it all to yourself.”
“How late do you usually stay up?”
“Depends on what’s on television. Not much these days. I usually end up reading in the living room, but I’m between books right now.”
Glancing toward the back wall, Dawn gave a quiet laugh. “You must love reading.”
“Did you find anything to interest you?”
“I have to read Ivanhoe next year in English.”
“Have to?” Oma got up and pulled the book from the shelf. “It wouldn’t be a classic if it hadn’t won the respect and hearts of generations.” She dropped it on Dawn’s lap. “Read fifty pages. If you’re not hooked, put it back. If you enjoy it, take it home as my gift.”
They watched a mystery in companionable silence. When it ended at ten, Oma flipped through channels, giving terse critiques. “Rerun. Stupid. Copy of a better show. Trash. More trash. I give up!” She shut off the television and put the remote on the cabinet. At home, if nothing caught Dawn’s interest, she could always load a favorite video. Oma didn’t have a VCR, let alone a library of movies.
Oma struggled to her feet and headed for the kitchen steps. “How about some hot chocolate? Now that it’s cooled off, we can sit outside and enjoy the stars.”
Dawn sat in a wicker chair, fascinated as her great-grandmother pointed out stars and constellations and told the mythological stories that went with them.
“How do you know all this, Oma?”
“I’m interested. I have Bulfinch’s Mythology in my library if Ivanhoe doesn’t catch your attention.” She waved her hand. “There’s a whole universe of things to learn.” Crickets chirped love songs while Dawn sipped cocoa and listened to Oma until she wound down and sighed.
“You made your mother very happy by coming down here.”
“I had to beg her to bring me,” Dawn admitted. “She prefers Christopher’s company.”
“Christopher never said, ‘I hate you. I wish you were dead so I could go home and live with Granny.’”
“What?” Dawn spoke weakly.
“Oh, it was a long time ago. You’d just moved to Alexander Valley. Your mother said she understood. After all, you’d spent more time with your grandmother than you had with her. And your grandmother had built her life around you.”
Dawn didn’t hear any condemnation in Oma’s voice, but felt close to tears anyway. She hadn’t thought about that in a long, long time. She remembered feeling ashamed. She remembered wanting to apologize. She remembered her mother telling her if she wanted to talk, she could call Granny. She hadn’t told Granny what she had said. She’d been too ashamed to admit it. “Sometimes people say things they don’t really mean.”
“You meant it at the time.” Oma reached out and patted her hand. “I’ve said things I regret, too, my dear. We all do.”
“Granny’s always loved me.”
“So has your mother.”
Dawn wanted to believe it. “Not like Granny does.”
“And why would that be, do you suppose?”
Why not be frank? Maybe she’d get the truth from Oma. No one else wanted to talk about the past. “Because I wasn’t planned, I guess. I was a mistake in a long line of mistakes she made.”
“When has she ever said that to you?”
“She never says much of anything to me.”
“Your mother doesn’t say much of anything to anyone, other than Mitch.”
“She talked with you all afternoon.” Dawn hadn’t meant to sound resentful or jealous. “I’ve never heard her talk that much to anyone, not even Mitch.”
“She’s safe with me.”
Dawn looked at her, waiting for more. She could see the sheen in Oma’s eyes as she looked at the sky.
“Your mother has never had to guard words with me. She can speak her mind without fear I’ll love her less.” Oma gazed at the stars in silence for a few minutes, then spoke again. “We all make mistakes. It’s how we learn. I’m quite certain your mother would admit to making her share of mistakes. Though I’m also certain she does not consider you to be one of them.”
“She’d probably still be in Haight-Ashbury if she hadn’t gotten pregnant with me.”
Oma scowled. “Well, now, I don’t know how you can believe that when she didn’t even know you were on the way until a month after she came home.”
“Granny said she came home pregnant.”
“Yes. She did. But being pregnant isn’t the same thing as knowing you’re pregnant. Your mother found out the same day your granny did.”
Dawn tried to think back on things Granny had said to her. “Maybe I got it wrong.”
Oma relaxed again. “You wouldn’t be the first.”
Dawn chewed her lip for a moment. “Do you know who my father is?”
“I never asked. Have you?”
“Yes,” Dawn said in frustration, “but she always changes the subject.”
“Then you might ask yourself when and how you asked.”
“I just want to know the truth, Oma. Don’t I have a right to know?”
“That’s all well and good, but what would you do with the truth if it was given to you?”
Oma talked in riddles! “I don’t know what you mean.”
Oma pushed herself up from the wicker chair. “Then you have something to ponder, haven’t you?” She picked up her empty cup, said good night, and went back inside the house.
Over a breakfast of scrambled eggs, sausage, and biscuits the next morning, Oma talked about what her other “kids” were doing. Dawn couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of Granny, in her sixties, still being considered a kid. Uncle Bernhard had received a long-deserved prestigious award for grafting lime, lemon, and orange trees. Business boomed and their son, Ed, now managed vendor and customer accounts as well as advertising so Bernie could concentrate on his horticulture experiments.
Rumors circulated in Hollywood that Aunt Clotilde would be up for an Oscar. “Apparently the costumes she designed for some science fiction movie were out of this world,” Oma joked.
Aunt Rikka still lived in her apartment in Soho. “She says she has good light for her painting and plenty of subjects. She’s doing portraits now. She just finished one of a hoodlum from the Bronx with a tattooed neck and arms. She’s calling it Simon the Zealot. She’s talked an IRS officer into posing as Matthew the tax collector. I don’t know who will buy these portraits, but she doesn’t care. She says she’s saved enough to paint whatever she wants for a while. If she runs short on money, she can always weld some more scrap metal together, give it a fancy name, and put it in that art gallery that loves her work. She told me she has a friend who mounted a urinal on a slab of wood and sold it for two hundred thousand dollars!” Oma shook her head. “People will make complete fools of themselves trying to keep up with whatever the latest art craze is.”
Mom took Oma’s grocery list and headed off to the store, leaving Dawn alone with Oma. Oma smirked at Dawn as Mom went out the door. “Am I babysitting you or are you babysitting me?” She got up from her recliner. “I have some watering to do. Would you like to go out in the backyard with me? We can keep an eye on each other.”
Dawn lounged on the swing. “You had four children, Oma, and they’re all so different.”
“More similar than you might imagine.” Oma tipped a watering can over a box overflowing with blue and red petunias. “All four were bright and good-looking. They all found their God-given talents. Clotilde and Rikka are both artists. Bernhard and Hildemara took to science.”
Dawn put her arm behind her head. “I don’t think I have any talent.”
Oma straightened and glowered at her. “How would you know? You haven’t tried anything yet. Other than soccer, which your mother said you play very well.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t think they have any professional women’s soccer leagues.”
Oma set the watering can down and eased herself into a chair. “You probably have a good idea already what you want to do with your life.”
Get married. Have children. She didn’t want to say all that after Mom’s nonresponse. “I’m only fifteen. How would I know?”
“Your granny was reading books on Florence Nightingale at fifteen. I left home at fifteen. I knew what I wanted, or thought I did, and made steps to go after it.”
Dawn couldn’t imagine leaving home right now, let alone leaving her country. How had Oma done that? “What did you want, Oma?” Had she run away like Mom? Maybe that was part of the bond between them.
“I wanted a chance to make something of my life, and my father thought educating a girl was a waste of time and money. He made me quit school at twelve and sent me to work at whatever menial job he could find. He didn’t think I’d amount to anything. He sent me to housekeeping school in Bern to learn how to be a servant. It wasn’t what I wanted, but I found ways to make good use of the training. I was going to own something as grand as the Hotel Edelweiss someday.”
“Hotel Edelweiss?”
“My friend Rosie’s family had a hotel. It’s still in the family as far as I know.”
“So you had to give up that dream?”
“Not completely. I owned a boardinghouse in Montreal and helped build a forty-acre ranch specializing in almonds and grapes. If my father had pampered and petted me, I might have ended up staying in Steffisburg and waiting on him for the rest of my life.” She snorted and shook her head.
All Dawn wanted to do was get married and have children. It didn’t seem like much when compared to Oma or Granny or even her mother, who had become a successful Realtor. In less than three years, Dawn would be eighteen. She’d need some kind of workable plan for her future until her dreams came true, if they did. “The idea of going out on my own scares me.” The thought was daunting.
“Probably because you’re too comfortable.” Oma chortled. “Nice big room in a big fancy house with a swimming pool, everything taken care of for you. Why would you want to leave? The people I loved most told me to go. My mother told me to fly. Rosie couldn’t wait for me to have adventures. Even my employers, Solange and then Lady Daisy, both said I had to go. They loved me, but put their needs aside for my good. People either weigh you down or give you wings. I had to shove your granny out of the nest. If I hadn’t, she’d still be single and living on the farm, thinking she had to take care of me.” She looked annoyed at the memory. “I love every one of my children, and I did the best I knew how in raising them. I just wasn’t always the mother they wanted.” She let out a soft breath. “I tried to mend the rift with your granny, but…” She shook her head. “It’s easier to put up a wall than build a bridge.”
“Are you sorry you never got your dream, Oma?”
“I can’t complain. Sometimes we realize our dreams in ways we never imagined. I never thought I’d ever marry, let alone have children. I wanted an education more than anything. I don’t have a high school diploma, but I can speak three languages, and I’ve read more great books than most college graduates. It’s a good thing God isn’t limited by what we have in mind for ourselves. His plan is so much bigger. When you’re as old as I am, you have time to sit still and take a long, thoughtful look back over your life and see how God’s plan was also a whole lot better.”
“Jason talks about God the way you do.”
Oma raised her brows. “And how’s that?”
“Like God cares.”
“And you don’t think He does?”
“Well, I suppose so, but…”
“It’s too hot out here for a philosophical conversation.” Oma fanned herself. “Let’s go inside.”
Dawn followed Oma back inside the house. They sat at the kitchen table, the oscillating fan turned on high. “As I get older, I miss the Alps more. Then again, maybe it’s just the heat.”
“Have you ever gone back?”
“Once, when I was eighty-four. Rikka went with me and made drawings of the old Lutheran church, the schoolhouse where I went, Thun Castle. I was offered a job there once.”
“In a castle?” Dawn was impressed.
Oma snorted derisively. “As a maid who’d’ve been paid a pittance for the honor of working there.” She snorted again. “I said no.”
“I never knew any of this. You should write all this down.”
Oma pushed herself to her feet, took an old leather journal from a kitchen drawer, and tossed it on the table in front of Dawn. “Rosie gave that to me as a going-away present before I left for Bern. She told me to fill it with adventures.” Oma chuckled. “I didn’t expect to have any. So I filled it with bits and pieces of useful information, things I thought would get me where I wanted to go. And eventually, I suppose some of my ‘adventures’ made it into the pages too.”
Dawn opened the journal. Oma’s German script was as small and perfect as the Declaration of Independence, and she had made the most of every page. “Can you read some of it to me?”
Oma put her hands on her hips. “Ivanhoe will be a lot more interesting, especially for a girl with romantic inclinations. Jason, is it? He’s the one you want to marry?”
Dawn blushed. “I can hope.” Covering her embarrassment, she gave Oma a smug smile. “I finished Ivanhoe last night.”
“Did you now? Well, aren’t you the smart little cookie?” Oma looked pleased. “Go ahead and read my journal. It’s only the first section that’s in German. I started practicing my English as soon as I could. If nothing else, it’ll help put you to sleep.”
Dawn flipped through pages. “Any recipes for love potions or advice on how to win a boy’s heart?”
Oma laughed. “You’re on your own there, my girl. I only went out with one man and ended up marrying him. But there’s advice on how to mend fences and build bridges. Not that I’ve ever been good at either.”
That night, after Mom and Oma had gone to bed, Dawn stayed up reading the worn journal. The first pages, in German, looked like lists and maybe recipes. The journal switched to English beginning with a heading, “Tea Service for Lady Daisy.” A recipe for spicy chicken sandwiches was followed by advice on how to wash linens, polish silver, and clean wood floors. Sometimes a line would be written that wouldn’t fit in among the rest.
Another year and I will forget why I came to England. Do I want to be as hopeless as Miss Millicent?
She’d filled one page with information on crop rotation and how to prune almond trees and grapevines.
I bought a car today. Niclas is not happy. I am!
More menus followed, along with a list of “Summer Bedlam Activities.” Oma had filled the last two pages with Scripture.
Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths. Proverbs 3:5-6
Oma had made a vine and grape border around this Scripture. The second stood alone with more space around it than anything she had written on the other pages.
When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a (wo) man, I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. And now abideth faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love. 1 Corinthians 13:11-13
Dawn turned the last page.
I have lived out my mother’s hope and pray I have given wings to my daughters’ dreams.
Leaving space, she wrote again.
A coddled child grows up crippled.
The last entry put an ending to the journal.
I lived and loved the best way I knew how, trusting God to keep His promise never to lose one of His own. I hold fast to what Mama taught me. In Him, we live and breathe. In Him, we will one day find one another again. In Him, we are one. In this life, we will not love perfectly. In the next, God promises we will. I hold to that hope. I cling to that dream.
On the way home to Alexander Valley, Mom fell into her habitual silence. It didn’t bother Dawn as much this time, not after a week with Oma. “Can I go back with you next summer?”
Mom smiled, eyes straight ahead. “So you enjoyed yourself.”
“Very much.” She didn’t want to be left out or left behind again. “Christopher and I could camp outside on Oma’s lawn.”
“He’d like that.”
Well, her mother hadn’t said she couldn’t come. “Oma knows more than anyone I’ve ever met.” She gave her mother a teasing smile. “Even Mitch.”
Mom let out a soft laugh. “She’s lived decades longer.”
Dawn enjoyed the new rapport between them. “Could we go to a stationer’s on the way home? I’d like to get a thank-you gift for Oma.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“A diploma.”
They stopped on the way through Santa Rosa. “I want something that looks like a real diploma. It has to look authentic. This one.” She pointed. “‘This certifies that Marta Waltert has graduated magna cum laude from the University of Hard Knocks.’”
Mom laughed. “She’s going to love it!”
When they picked up the framed diploma, Dawn wrote a note and put it in the box before sending it by Federal Express to Merced.
Dear Oma,
I learned more from you in one week than I’ve learned in ten years of school. I hope to visit again soon.
Love, Dawn
Ten days later, a package arrived Priority Mail from Oma. Dawn opened it at the kitchen table with Mom watching. “A leather journal! Just like the one her friend Rosie gave her.” Dawn ran her hand over the beautifully etched tan cover. When she opened it, a note fluttered to the floor. Mom picked it up and handed it to her.
If you learned more from me in one week than you learned in ten years of school, you weren’t paying attention! Open those lovely blue eyes and look at the world around you! Open those cute shell-shaped ears and listen! Get busy on going after your dream. Thank you for my diploma. I have it hanging on my bedroom wall where I can admire it every night and pray for the blessed child who sent it.
Love, Oma
Dear Rosie,
Carolyn brought May Flower Dawn with her this year. I had given up hope of ever getting to know my great-granddaughter. She was such an obnoxious child, so full of herself, so spoiled by Hildemara and critical of Carolyn-not that it was entirely her fault. Christopher usually comes with Carolyn, but Dawn asked to come this time. I see that as a miracle. I didn’t think she liked me.
Dawn has a “crush” on a young man who barely knows she exists. I doubt that. The girl is a beauty-long blonde hair, blue eyes, nicely proportioned. I was taken aback. She is the mirror image of Elise. Thankfully, she is very different in temperament. May Flower Dawn and I had several very nice, long conversations. I was surprised to discover she has a teachable spirit. I am quite taken with her. She may very well turn out to have the best of Hildemara Rose and Carolyn in her, and perhaps a little of me as well. Not too much, I hope.
Dawn sent a gift. According to the diploma she had made, I graduated magna cum laude from the University of Hard Knocks. I laughed and wept when I saw it, and I wept more when I read her sweet note. May Flower Dawn wants to come again. I am filled with joy! Dare I hope she might be the one to bring my daughter home to me? Oh, how I would love to sit and serve Hildemara, Carolyn, and May Flower Dawn tea on my patio. Think of it, Rosie! Four generations of women together at last. We could drink in the scent of summer roses and talk. Oh, how I would love that…
Three weeks later, Granny called. When Oma didn’t answer her telephone, her neighbor had gone over to check on her. She found Oma sitting in her recliner. She’d died peacefully, Alexis de Tocqueville’s Democracy in America open on her lap.
The memorial service took place in a Methodist church in Merced, the front two rows packed with relatives and the rest packed with friends. No air-conditioning and late August heat made the sanctuary almost unbearable. Uncle Bernie and Aunt Elizabeth; Ed; Granny and Papa; Aunt Cloe and her producer husband, Ted; and Aunt Rikki and an old friend and widower named Melvin were all there. Dawn sat beside Mom in the pew behind Granny and Papa. Mitch sat on the other side of Mom, his arm wrapped around her as though holding her together. Christopher sat on the other side of Mitch, leaning against him.
Dawn had never lost anyone, and she felt more regret than grief. She’d liked Oma immensely and wished she’d spent more time with her. But the depth of her mother’s grief frightened her. Mom had cried for three days after Granny called with the news. She hadn’t eaten in a week. Now, she sat ashen-faced, tears streaming down her cheeks as the minister spoke of heaven and the hope God gave everyone who believed in the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ our Savior and Lord.
Granny glanced back at Mom, her expression pained, almost angry. Dawn had overheard her speaking to Mom in the pastor’s office before the service. “Are you going to be all right, Carolyn?” She had sounded impatient.
“She’ll be fine, Hildie.” Papa put his arm around Granny’s waist. “Come on. We need to go in and sit down.”
“No.” Granny stepped away from him and kept staring at Mom. “If you can’t hold yourself together better than this, Carolyn, maybe you should stay in here and cry your heart out.”
Mom gasped as though struck.
Mitch’s face darkened. Dawn had never seen him so angry. “There’s no shame in grieving over someone she loves!”
“No shame at all.” Papa took Granny firmly by the arm. Granny’s face crumpled before she turned away.
Mitch looked chagrined and muttered the first foul word Dawn had ever heard him say. He folded Mom in his arms and whispered to her. Christopher looked confused and distressed. Dawn put her arm around him and told him everything would be okay, though she wondered if it would.
Now, as the service wore on, she studied her mother’s worn face and wanted to weep. She took her hand and found it cold. While the minister droned on, Dawn remembered things Granny had said. “Your mother was always going off by herself, even as a little girl. She liked being on her own in her dream world. She’d play outside with the dog for hours.”
Dawn thought that meant her mother hadn’t cared deeply about anyone but herself, that she didn’t need anyone. Clearly, she cared deeply about Oma.
Mitch decided they would leave Merced shortly after the reception started. “She’s taken all she can take,” he told Papa.
“We have to stay,” Papa said. “The lawyer will be going over the will tomorrow morning. Apparently, Oma managed to make some good investments.”
Mom stared out the front passenger window on the drive home. Tears streamed down her white cheeks. Mitch looked worried. Christopher put his head in Dawn’s lap and slept most of the way. Dawn didn’t know what else to do but pray. God… God… Even then, words wouldn’t come.
During the last two weeks before school started, Mom went about her daily chores like an automaton. Even Christopher couldn’t lift her spirits with his cheerful inane chatter and repertoire of new puns and knock-knock jokes. When Granny called, Dawn escaped to Jenner by the Sea. Papa asked how her mom was doing, and Granny jumped in.
“You know very well how she’s doing, Trip. I told you I called a few days ago and Mitch said she wasn’t up to talking to me.”
“Maybe she’s feeling better now.”
“She won’t even speak to me!”
“She isn’t talking to anyone, Granny.” Fighting tears, Dawn went into the blue bedroom off the kitchen and closed the wooden folding doors. She could hear her grandparents talking in low voices at the table. Papa raised his voice.
“You’re madder at Carolyn for grieving than you’re sad over your mother dying.”
Dawn heard Granny crying and then quick footsteps retreating to the back bedroom. Opening the door slowly, Dawn peered out and saw Papa still sitting at the kitchen table, staring out at the Russian River. When she sat with him, he gave her a pained smile and quipped, “Women. You can’t live with them, and you can’t live without them.” He let out his breath. “Things wouldn’t be nearly so bad if everything had been sorted out between your granny and Oma years ago.”
“What wasn’t?”
He scratched his balding head. “Nothing that’s ever going to get fixed now.”
Home again, Dawn left Mom alone and went out to wander through the garden and vineyard alone. Mitch had started building a new tasting room last spring, and now he pitched in with the carpenters. Maybe he just wanted to be out of the house so Mom could grieve in private.
Hot and tired, Dawn came back inside and found her mother sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of steaming hot tea. Dawn sat with her. “Is there anything I can do for you, Mom?” She’d already finished the laundry and folding. She wouldn’t need to start dinner for another three hours.
“It’ll just take time.” Mom put her hands around the cup. “I wish you’d known her better.”
“So do I. It’s my fault I didn’t.” Dawn hurt for her mother. She hurt for Granny, too. They should be comforting one another. Instead, they didn’t even speak. “Do you want to talk about Oma? Would that help?”
Mom raised her head and offered a sad, rueful smile. “Maybe you should think about being a shrink.”
Dawn gave a soft laugh and started to cry. Angry with herself, she covered her face. “I’m sorry. I just wish I could make things easier on you and Granny. She cried all weekend.”
“Did she?”
Dawn wiped the tears from her cheeks. “She’d smile and pretend everything was fine, and then she’d disappear into the garage and cry.”
Mom rubbed her temples. “You’ll be a great comfort to her.”
“What about you, Mom?” Dawn could see the effort it took for her to sit at the table. Her mother leaned forward, heels of her hands pressed hard against her eyes. Was she trying to stop another onslaught of tears?
“I won’t run away to Haight-Ashbury,” she half whispered hoarsely. “I won’t run…”
It seemed such an odd thing to say, but Dawn didn’t want to make things worse by asking what she meant. “Christopher needs you, Mom.” Maybe that would be enough to shake her out of despair.
Her mother raised her head with an effort, eyes bleak. “And you don’t.”
Dawn felt impelled to admit what she never had before. “Yes, I do.” She slid her hand across the table, lifting her fingers in invitation, hoping her mother would understand. Silent, pale, her mother stared. Dawn waited, counting the seconds. Just when she’d almost given up hope, her mother slid her hand across the table and wove her fingers into Dawn’s. The first spark of life came back into her mother’s eyes as they held tight to each other.
“You have mail.” Mom came into Dawn’s room and handed her two envelopes. Dawn set Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice aside and tore open the large envelope first. Members of the CCC youth group had sent a condolence card with wishes she would return to meetings soon. Even Pastor Daniel had signed it. The second envelope held a note from Jason Steward.
Dear Dawn,
Kim told me about your great-grandmother passing on. I’m sorry for your family’s loss and hope you take comfort in the Lord Jesus. I hope to see you when school starts again. If you’d like to talk, I’d listen.
Sincerely yours,
Jason Steward
She spent the rest of the afternoon obsessing about Jason’s note. Did he want her to call? Was he inviting her into a relationship? If so, what sort? friendship only or something more?
It took all night and most of the next day to gather enough courage to look up his telephone number. Her heart pounded in her ears as she pushed the numbers. Losing her nerve, she hung up after two rings. She picked up her portable phone half a dozen times before she finally had the nerve to try again.
A woman answered. Stammering, Dawn asked if she could please speak to Jason Steward. The woman’s voice became cold. “Who’s calling?”
“Dawn Arundel.”
“Just a moment.” Dawn could hear muffled voices. Time stretched and with it Dawn’s nerves. Had she made a mistake calling Jason? Maybe he’d sent the note only to be polite.
“Dawn?” His voice made her pulse skyrocket. She hadn’t talked to him in weeks.
“Hi.” She winced at the high-pitched tension she heard in that one word. She let out her breath and tried to calm down. “I just called to thank you for your note.” When he didn’t say anything, she wondered if they’d been cut off. “Jason?”
“I’m here. Hang on a second.” Again, the muffled receiver, the indistinct voices. Then he came back on. “How are you doing?”
“So-so, I guess. Better than my mother. Oma’s death has hit her hard. They were extremely close.”
“Was it expected? Her death, I mean. Your grandmother’s. I mean your great-grandmother.” He let out a tense breath.
He sounded more nervous than she was. That pleased her, for some odd reason. “She was in her nineties. It wasn’t exactly unexpected.”
“Oh. Yeah. Dumb question.”
“I didn’t mean that. My mom and I spent a week with Oma this summer. She was really, really cool.” Dawn rolled her eyes, thinking she sounded really, really dumb.
Jason’s mother said something. He told Dawn to hang on a second again.
“Dawn?”
“Yes?”
“I have to go. I have something I have to do before I go to work tonight.”
“Okay.” Dawn felt heat flood her entire body. “Bye.” She clicked the phone off and tossed it on the bed. She shouldn’t have called. How would she face him when school started?
Kim called later that evening. “Did Jason call you?”
“No,” Dawn drawled cautiously. “Why would he?”
“Well, I don’t know, but he called me an hour ago and asked for your number.”
“He did?”
Kim giggled. “Dad thought Jason wanted to ask me out. I didn’t dare tell him he wanted your number.”
“I guess your dad doesn’t like me very much.”
“Oh, it’s not that,” Kim said quickly. “It’s just that Jason is exactly the sort of guy my father wants me to marry. Are you coming back to youth group? Jason said he had Wednesday night off this week.”
When Jason didn’t show up, Kim shrugged. “I guess he had something else he had to do.”
Dawn took special care getting ready for the first day of school. She wanted to catch Jason’s attention and make a lasting impression. When she came out for breakfast, Mitch leaned back in his chair and gave her a wry grin. “Who’s your prey?”
She blushed. Angry, she pulled her chair out and sat down. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Ah, Pita. I see trouble ahead.” Mitch tossed his napkin on the table and stood. He kissed Mom on the cheek. “I’ll buy a shotgun on the way home.” Laughing, he headed out of the kitchen.
Mom raised her brows at Dawn.
Dawn stared back at her. “What?” She had chosen jeans that fit her like a second skin and a pink scoop-neck T-shirt that showed off her tan. She’d left her hair down and put on touches of eye shadow and glossy pink lipstick. It wasn’t that big a deal, was it?
“You look very nice. That’s all I was going to say.”
As the bus turned off Prince Street into the school driveway, Dawn caught a glimpse of Jason in the student parking lot with Tom Barrett and Kim Archer. Slinging her backpack over her shoulder, Dawn got off the bus.
“Dawn! Wait up!” Kim caught up with her. Jason held back with Tom, talking while looking at Dawn. Did he like how she looked? His expression showed nothing. He didn’t even wave at her. “He bought a car!”
Dawn pulled her gaze from Jason. “Who?”
“Jason! Who else? He gave me and Tom a ride to school.” She kept talking as they went inside together to their lockers. Dawn wished she lived in Windsor instead of Alexander Valley. Then, maybe, he would offer her a ride.
Jason and Tom came in the door after them. She stood with her back to them as she opened her locker. Every nerve quivered when Jason came closer. “Hi, Dawn.” He spoke quietly. She gave a quick glance over her shoulder without meeting his eyes and gave what she hoped was an equally nonchalant greeting.
After that, she didn’t see Jason until the lunch hour. He was with Kim and Tom again, sitting at a table in the cafeteria. Matt Cavanaugh came over and blocked her view. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around school. My name’s Matt. And you’re…?” He left the question hanging.
“Dawn Arundel. I was here last year.”
He grinned at her. “How did I miss you?”
“Maybe you were too busy getting dents in your football helmet.”
He laughed easily. “Where are you sitting for lunch?”
She peered around and saw the seats at Jason’s table had already filled up. Sharon glanced toward her in question. “Outside, I guess.” She headed for the door, not expecting Matt to follow.
He got to the door ahead of her and opened it. “You can sit with me in the senior court.”
Joe Hernandez and two other seniors joined them. They flirted outrageously, each trying to outdo the other, which gave her a feeling of power and made her laugh. She finished her lunch quickly and excused herself, going back inside the cafeteria. Sharon, Steven Dial, Pam Preston, Linda Doile, and Amy King still sat at the table. Kim, Tom, and Jason had left.
“Where have you been?” Sharon asked.
“Sitting with Matt in the senior court.”
“If you’re looking for Jason, he and Kim and Tom went to do a Bible study in one of the courts. I’m not sure which one.”
Dawn spotted Jason in the hallway as she headed for her Spanish class. He barely looked at her as he passed by.
The next few days were no different, other than she managed to avoid Matt and his friends. Jason hung out with Tom and Steven Dial, and sometimes Kim. He made no effort to single Dawn out or even speak to her. When she sat down, he got up and left the lunch table. She wasn’t the only one who noticed.
“What’s with you and Jason?” Sharon kept pace on the way to class. Dawn had just spent another miserable lunch hour of wondering why Jason seemed so determined to avoid her.
She shrugged off Sharon’s question. “I’ve got to get my books.”
Spanish passed slowly, Dawn struggling to concentrate on conjugating verbs. She kept glancing at the clock. She wouldn’t see Jason until tomorrow, and he’d probably ignore her again. When the bell rang, she headed for biology and then realized she’d forgotten her textbook. She hurried to her locker and grabbed the book she needed. Turning, she bumped into Jason. Her heart jumped and she stepped back, embarrassed. “Sorry. I didn’t see you.”
“My fault. Can we talk?”
Now he wanted to talk? After almost a month of acting as though she didn’t even exist? “I’m going to be late.” She stepped around him, but he moved to block her.
“I tried calling you.”
“When?”
“This summer. After you called me.”
“Thanks for reminding me.”
“Once I stayed on the line long enough to hear your voice on the answering machine. I didn’t leave a message.”
She looked at him. “Why not?”
“I chickened out.” A muscle tensed in his jaw.
“Your note said if I wanted to talk, you’d listen. I guess I know now that was bull.” She stepped around him and raced to class, slipping into the room just as the bell rang.
She didn’t expect to see Jason waiting for her when she came out.
“Would you like to go for a soda after school? We could talk then. I have a car. I could drive you home.”
After so many weeks of nothing from him, she couldn’t quite take in his sudden warmth. False hope and wrong conclusions would just add to the hurt. “I know you have a car. Kim told me you’ve been picking her up every day.”
His eyes flickered, and then he smiled, looking relieved. “I’ve been picking up Tom Barrett, too. But she and Tom decided to ride the bus together instead. It takes longer to get home.”
She blinked, not sure what he meant. “Are you saying they like each other?”
“Yeah. Is that so surprising? Tom’s a great guy.”
“I know he is, but Kim is Pastor Daniel’s daughter, and Tom is barely a Christian.”
“The three of us have been doing a Bible study every lunch hour. Tom is talking to Pastor Daniel about getting baptized.”
A Bible study every lunch hour? Was that why Jason had been leaving the table? Maybe his departure had nothing to do with her.
The warning bell rang. Jason took her books. “I’ll walk you to class.”
Bemused, she fell into step beside him. “You don’t know where I’m going.”
“You’re going to algebra, which is just down the hall from my trigonometry class.” He saw her to the door. “Do you want to go have a Coke after school?”
“Yes.”
His eyes warmed. “Wait for me after class. We’ll get your stuff and go.” He headed back in the other direction.
Dawn couldn’t wait for class to end. Every minute felt like torture. When the bell finally rang, she slapped her book closed, gathered her things, and headed for the door. A few minutes later, she spotted Jason weaving his way through the throng of students. When he smiled at her, Dawn went hot all over.
“How was algebra?”
“Agony.”
On the way to student parking, Dawn spotted Kim and Tom walking hand in hand. “How did I miss that?”
Jason laughed as he opened the car door for Dawn. “I guess you had other things on your mind.”
Jason. That’s what she had on her mind. Every day, all day, and nighttime, too. She slid into the white Honda, admiring the pristine, beige interior. Jason tossed his backpack into the trunk and slid into the driver’s seat. She smiled. “It’s so neat and clean.”
“I bought it from a lady in the trailer park. She’s in her eighties and can’t drive anymore.” He started the engine. “She only put seven thousand miles on it and had records on oil changes and services.” He put his arm on the seat behind her, backed out of the parking space, and pulled into line behind others waiting to exit the cyclone-fenced lot. “My mother is less than happy about it.”
“Why?”
“I dipped into my college savings.” He pulled out onto Prince Street. “She was pretty ticked off. But I’m still working five to nine as a bagger five days a week. It’s good pay.”
“What about a Doyle Scholarship and Santa Rosa Junior College? That would give you two extra years to save.” She didn’t want to think about him leaving the area in less than a year.
“My mother has her heart set on me going to the University of California.”
“Which UC campus? Berkeley? Davis?” Both were close enough that Jason could come home on weekends.
“Berkeley. The hotbed of radicals.” He pulled into McDonald’s and asked if she wanted something to eat. She was hungry, but said no. She didn’t want him spending what little money he had buying her junk food. He bought two sodas and a large order of French fries.
Jason drove to Memorial Beach. They walked across the grass and sat on the beach above the Russian River. He insisted she share the fries. They talked about their classes and teachers’ expectations. He asked about her summer, and she talked about Oma.
“You’re blessed.” He looked at the river, expression wistful. “I’ve never met my grandparents.”
“Do they live far away?”
He wadded up his empty bag and pitched it into a garbage can. “San Diego.” He rested his forearms on his raised knees. “They don’t speak to my mother.”
“Why not?”
Jason turned his head and looked at her solemnly. “She had me.” When her mouth fell open in surprise, he stood abruptly and walked down to the water’s edge. Dawn got up, dusted off her jeans, and followed him. Jason shoved his hands in his pockets. “I thought you ought to know.”
Dawn moved closer, her hand brushing his arm. “My mother came home from Haight-Ashbury and found out a month later she’d brought an unexpected package with her. Arundel is Mom’s maiden name.”
Jason stared at her. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”
“It’s not something to advertise, is it? Have you met your father?”
“Once, when I was five or six. We ran into him at a park. He kept staring at me, and I asked why. Mom told me he was my father. I ran over to him and asked. His friends laughed.” He gave a bleak laugh. “He told me to get lost. We moved a few weeks later. I haven’t heard of or seen him since.” He tilted his head. “What about you?”
She shook her head. “I have no idea who my father is.”
“Have you asked?”
“Once or twice. My mother won’t tell me anything.”
“Maybe the memories are too painful.”
“Or she doesn’t know who he is.”
He winced. “Ouch.”
“Well, she was a hippy. Free love and all that…” She lifted her shoulders. She wondered why she was telling Jason. It wasn’t something she’d ever wanted to discuss with anyone.
Jason turned to her and gripped her arms. “Dawn, I’ve been wanting-” At the sound of a car crossing the bridge, he let go of her and stepped back. Looking grim, he glanced at his watch. “I’d better drive you home. I need to get to work.” They walked slowly up the sandy hill and under the shade of the redwood trees, neither in a hurry to leave.
“When are you going to do homework, Jason?”
“Study hall, and I get up early.” He opened the car door for her. When he slid into the driver’s seat again, he turned to her. “I’m not going to have a lot of free time, but what I have I’d like to spend with you. How do you feel about that?” He searched her face.
Everything bloomed inside her. “I’d like that very much.”
Jason met Dawn at the bus stop every morning and walked her to her locker and first class. They ate lunch together with other members of the CCC youth group, then met every afternoon, after their last class. Filling their backpacks with textbooks and homework assignments, they’d head for the parking lot and drive to the library. They’d find a small, empty table and sit opposite one another. When she had trouble with math assignments, Jason moved his chair beside hers, leaning close and whispering help. The brush of his shoulder against hers and warmth of his body made her blood race. She savored the exquisite torture of being so close to him. When he looked at her, she studied the gold flecks in his eyes, the black depths of his widening pupils.
Dawn was disappointed, but not surprised, when Jason said they couldn’t study at the library anymore. “I’m not getting my work done, and I’ve got to keep my grades up.”
They hung out at school every day, and he called her every night on his work breaks. Sometimes he called when he got home, but his mother never allowed him to talk long. Dawn could hear her. “You need your sleep, Jason.” “You have to get up at four thirty tomorrow morning to finish that report.” “You’ll see her in school. Get off the phone!”
Sometimes he called her back. “Mom’s asleep. We can talk now.” And they did, for two hours sometimes.
Pastor Daniel came by. Jason fumed over the telephone. “Mom must have called him. He said rebellion against God leads to a ruined life.”
“You haven’t rebelled against God.”
“I told him that, but he’s right, too. I’m not exactly where I was a year ago. I can’t go to youth group because of work, and I’m not reading my Bible every day like I was. I’m not praying like I did either. Other than getting my homework done, all I think about is you.”
“Maybe we both have a problem.” Dawn rolled over and tucked her arm beneath her pillow. “We’ll bring our Bibles to school and find a nice quiet place where we can be alone and study. Do you think that will help?”
He gave a hoarse laugh. “When I’m with you, the last thing on my mind is studying.”
The sound of his voice stroked her senses, and she knew hers did the same to him. Stirring him up stirred her as well. She liked the rush of blood in her veins, the warmth in her belly. “I wish you were here, Jason.”
“Imagine I am.”
“Dawn?”
Dawn jumped a foot off the bed. “Christopher!” She hissed in annoyance. “You scared me!”
Her little brother stood in the doorway in his pajamas. “I had a bad dream.”
She wanted to tell him to go back to bed, to leave her alone, but he looked so distressed, she stretched out her arm. “Speaking of dreams, I think my little brother just had a bad one.” She made room for him. “He likes to curl up in bed with me when that happens.” Christopher climbed in and snuggled close.
“Lucky Christopher.” He wished her a good night and hung up. She tucked the telephone back in its cradle on her bedside table.
“You love Jason, don’t you?” Christopher pressed tight against her.
“More than anyone.”
“More than Granny and Papa? More than Mom and Dad and me?”
“It’s a different kind of love, Chris. It doesn’t take love away from anyone else.” She pushed down the palm tree of hair tickling her nose and kissed his head. “Now, go to sleep.”
On Thanksgiving Day, Granny and Papa arrived for the annual gathering. Mom and Granny acted like polite strangers. No one mentioned Oma. Before the table had even been set, Granny said she wanted to have the family come out to Jenner by the Sea for Christmas. Mom said she’d think about it. Granny said she had all the rooms ready and decorated. Mom and Mitch could have the downstairs apartment with Christopher in the small sitting room.
“I’ll put a nice little tree downstairs with ornaments and lights.” Dawn would have the blue bedroom upstairs, of course, just as she always did. Mom kept laying out silverware, not saying anything.
“Well, Carolyn?”
“I said I’d think about it.”
“I know what that means.” Granny stood by the table, fiddling with the silverware Mom had carefully laid out. “Why don’t you ask Dawn what she wants to do?”
Dawn hated to be pulled into the middle of the argument. When Mom glanced at her, she winced. She didn’t want to tell her grandmother she’d rather stay home. She knew Jason would be working extra hours over Christmas break, but she still wanted to be at home in case he had time to see her.
“It’s not up to Dawn.” Mom laid out the last set of silverware and left the dining room. Dawn heard her telephone. She’d turned the volume up on the ring so she wouldn’t miss it. Excusing herself quickly, she ran down the hall, swinging her door shut before she grabbed the phone.
“Hello.”
“You sound like you’ve been running,” Jason said.
“It’s crazy around here. Granny and Mom are circling one another with me right in the middle.”
“We’re going over to the Archers’ for dinner.”
Uh-oh. “Pastor Daniel probably wants a private talk with you.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because he talked to me last night after the meeting.” Pastor Daniel had done a lot of talking about relationships over the last few youth group meetings. He said if anyone thought they were standing strong, they’d better be careful not to fall. Sometimes he’d look right at her when he talked. Last night, Pastor Daniel called her aside after the kids dispersed. Sharon cast a worried glance and said she’d wait in the car.
Pastor Daniel got right to the point. “Georgia tells me you and Jason are seeing a lot of each other.”
Dawn felt her cheeks heating up. She had met Jason’s mother only once. She’d sensed Georgia Steward didn’t like her very much. “We see each other at school. That’s about it.” Pastor Daniel didn’t say anything, but Dawn could tell he was waiting for more of a confession than that. “And we talk on the telephone.” Clearly, he already knew that.
“My intention wasn’t to upset you, Dawn.”
“I’m not upset.” What did he want her to say? “We haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I didn’t say you had. You’re members of our youth group, and I care about you both. I’ll see you next week?”
She forced a smile. “Sure.” She watched him walk away. His words had seemed bland enough, but she felt a stab of guilt. Hadn’t he read last week that Jesus said thinking about sinning was tantamount to committing the sin? Well, then she sinned all the time! Not a day passed that she didn’t wonder what it would be like to make love with Jason.
“What’d Pastor Daniel say?”
“He said he heard we were seeing each other. I got the impression he thinks I’m some kind of Delilah tempting Samson.”
Jason didn’t laugh. “Mom must have talked to him. She told me the other day she thinks I’m losing my focus.”
“And that’s my fault?”
“She didn’t say that. She just reminded me that I have to keep my focus on where I want to be in five years. We’ve had this same conversation a hundred times before you and I started hanging out.”
She could hear Jason’s mother speaking in the background. “You need to get off the phone, Jason. We have to go. You can talk to her at school…” Yada, yada.
“I’ve got to go, Dawn. Can I call you tomorrow?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice choked up. “Can you?” She hung up.
Mom fixed turkey with all the trimmings, but Dawn didn’t feel like eating. As soon as everyone finished, Mom started clearing platters. Mitch, Papa, and Christopher went into the family room to watch football. Granny stayed to help clear the table. “You’ve been quiet all evening.”
“I just have a lot on my mind.” Dawn stacked Villeroy & Boch dinner dishes and headed for the kitchen. She didn’t feel like talking about Jason or his mother. She wondered if he was having a good time with Kim. His mother probably would have no problem with Jason going out with Pastor Daniel’s daughter. Mom positioned herself at the sink so Granny couldn’t step in and wash anything. The dishwasher door yawned, wide-open, from the wall on the other side.
Granny asked what she could do to help. Mom suggested she go relax with Papa and Mitch and Christopher; everything would be done in a few minutes.
“What about the pies? I could cut the pies,” Granny insisted.
Dawn wanted to scream at both of them. Why couldn’t Mom give in and Granny shut up?
The doorbell rang. Relieved, Dawn said she’d go, then fled the kitchen.
“Don’t just open the door,” Granny called after her. “Check the peephole first.”
Jason stood on the front door stoop. He looked like a GQ model in his navy blue sports jacket and gray slacks. He’d loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt collar. Her insides knotted. He was clearly upset. “Jason.” Her voice came out breathy. “I thought you were going to the Archers’.”
“I did. I left.” He stepped closer. “Dawn, I-”
“Ask him in.” Mitch spoke from behind her. “Jason.” He extended his hand in welcome. “Come on into the family room. Dawn’s grandparents are visiting.”
Jason winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your Thanksgiving. I should’ve called first.”
“I’m glad you came,” Dawn said quickly.
“We’ve already finished eating or we would’ve invited you to join us.” Mitch put his hand on Jason’s shoulder and half pushed him toward the family room. “Dawn? Are you coming? You can make the introductions.”
Jason’s arrival distracted Granny from trying to help Mom. Papa shook hands with him. Mitch told Jason to sit and relax. Dawn sat beside him, every nerve stretched tight while Papa asked questions like a police detective. Granny told him to stop interrogating the boy. Mitch seemed to be enjoying the scene. Mom came out of the kitchen and sat. She listened and watched, but didn’t say anything.
Dawn gave Mitch a pleading look. How long did they have to sit and make small talk before they could escape and Jason could tell her why he had come?
Christopher provided the way when he insisted Jason had to see his latest LEGO creation. Thankful, Dawn followed and sat on Christopher’s bed while Jason hunkered down and admired Christopher’s castle and knights. Her little brother chattered on and on about King Arthur and Sir Lancelot, Galahad, Gawain, and Perceval. When Jason glanced at her, Dawn rolled her eyes. “Mom’s reading him a book on the knights of the Round Table.”
“You want to see it?” Christopher jumped up.
Jason straightened. “Maybe another time, Chris. I came to talk to your sister.”
Dawn preceded him down the hall. “We can use the library.” The double pocket doors were open. As Jason moved into the center of the room, she closed them quietly. He stood on the yellow and blue Aubusson rug. He glanced around at the mahogany bookcases with colorful amphoras and expensive American Indian pottery tucked in here and there. When he turned, his expression was pained. “I keep forgetting…”
She came toward him, drinking in the sight of him. He had left the Archers and his mother and driven all the way to Alexander Valley on Thanksgiving to see her. That had to mean something, didn’t it? “Forgetting what?”
He shook his head. “It shouldn’t matter, but it does.” His gaze swept the room again, pointedly, and she understood.
“It doesn’t matter.” Dawn stood right in front of him. “I’m sorry I hung up on you.” She lowered her voice. “I was upset.”
“I know.”
“Do you want to sit down?”
“No.” He reached out, his hand sliding down her arm and taking hold of her hand. He toyed with her fingers. When she looked at him, he let go and stepped away. Sitting on the couch, he rested his forearms on his knees.
Dawn sat beside him. “What happened?” She put her hand on his arm.
“We weren’t there five minutes before Pastor Daniel invited me into his office. When he closed the door, I knew something was up. He picked up right where Mom left off on our drive over, and I saw red. I asked if Mom had asked him to talk to me. He said she had concerns. He started talking about how he met his wife. I know all that. He didn’t even date until he was a senior in college. He met her in class and didn’t ask her out until he’d asked around about her and knew she loved the Lord as much as he did. They didn’t kiss until they were engaged. I didn’t want to hear the whole story again.” He raked his hands into his hair and held his head. “I lost it.”
“What did you say?”
He looked at her bleakly. “I asked him whatever happened to trusting in the Lord, and then I left.”
“What about your mother?”
“She’s still there.” He grimaced. “I can imagine what she’s going to say.” He came to his feet as though he couldn’t bear to sit still any longer. “I’ve never done anything like that before. I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I’m going to have to go back and apologize.” He stood at the window, looking out. “And if they find out I came here to see you, it’s going to make things a hundred times worse.”
His words hit like a punch to her stomach. “Oh.” She closed her eyes tightly, fighting tears. “I guess they don’t like me very much.”
Jason turned around to face her again. “They’re just trying to protect us.”
“Not us, Jason.” She blinked away tears. “You. They don’t think I’m good enough.”
Someone tapped on the door and slid one side open. Mitch held out the phone. “Your mother wants to speak with you, Jason.”
Jason’s face darkened as he took the telephone and walked over to the window again, facing out. Mitch pushed the pocket doors into the walls and motioned Dawn over. “Leave the doors open.”
Dawn glared at him. “We’re not doing anything!”
His gaze narrowed. “Maybe not, but emotions are running a little too high in here.”
Jason came back and handed the telephone to Mitch. “Thanks, Mr. Hastings.”
“Everything okay?”
“Just some things that need sorting out.” Tense, angry, Jason said he had to leave. He apologized to Mitch for the interruption and went into the family room to say good-bye to Mom and tell Granny and Papa it was a pleasure meeting them. Frustrated and worried about whatever his mom had said, Dawn walked with him to the front door. “Will I see you at all this weekend?”
He took her hand. Out of sight of the others, he didn’t pretend he wasn’t upset. “I doubt it. I’ll probably be grounded.”
“And it’s my fault.”
“No, it isn’t. This has been brewing for a long time. It’s got nothing to do with you, Dawn.” He leaned down and whispered, “Can I kiss you?” She said please. His mouth was firm and warm, moving tentatively over hers. When he straightened, she drew in a shaky breath. They stared at one another, and then he stepped closer and kissed her again. His arms slid around her, and she felt his heart pounding against hers. At the sound of footsteps, they broke apart, panting softly, shocked that their feelings could skyrocket so fast. He stared at her, eyes dark, face flushed. “I’ll call you.” He went quickly out the door, closing it behind him.
Dawn turned and found her mother standing in the archway. “Is everything all right?”
Heart pounding, body swimming with sensation, Dawn shrugged. “No. Not really.” Not yet, anyway, but things were going to change. She felt ecstatic and triumphant. When Jason kissed her the second time, she knew his mother and Pastor Daniel wouldn’t be able to keep them apart.
Jason didn’t call. She didn’t see him until Monday morning at school. He’d gone back to the Archers’ and apologized to everyone. When he and his mother got home, she exploded. Yes, he was grounded. For two weeks. No telephone privileges, no going anywhere with friends. Friends, Dawn knew, meant her.
Every morning when Dawn got off the bus, Jason stood waiting for her. They hung out under the maple trees along Prince Avenue before going to their lockers and on to class. They met as often as their schedules allowed. They sat alone together on the field during lunch hour, rather than eat with their friends. He never kissed her, but sometimes he held her hand when they walked around campus.
Dawn still attended youth group with Sharon on Wednesday evenings, but she barely paid attention to what Pastor Daniel had to say. She came to be with her friends, not listen to him lecture. Kim and Tom sat together, but didn’t touch, and Kim still rode home with her father after the meetings while the rest of the kids, including Tom, met up at Taco Bell or McDonald’s to talk for another hour or two. “Does Pastor Daniel know you and Kim are going out yet?” Steven Dial asked, stirring up trouble.
“Yeah, he knows.” Tom shrugged. “He was pretty cool about it.”
“Cool? How so?”
“He invited me to a baseball game. We spent most of the time talking.”
Steven laughed. “You mean he talked.”
“Not all the time. He asked me if I loved Kim. I said I did. He told me love between a man and woman can be a beautiful thing, but it’s fragile, too. It only takes one mistake to turn life into a tangled mess.” Everyone knew what he meant, though few believed him.
Two weeks felt like two years, but finally Jason’s mother paroled him. Jason called Dawn that night. He called on breaks at work. He called when he got home, when he finished his homework. They often talked until after midnight. She worried about him. He seemed so tired all the time. She’d tell him not to call, to go to bed; she’d see him at school first thing in the morning. He said he liked hearing the sound of her voice just before he went to sleep, although sometimes they talked about things that kept them both awake long into the night.
Christmas break approached, and Dawn went shopping with Sharon, Amy, and Kim. Kim bought Tom a Bible and a silver chain and a cross made of nails. Dawn bought a gold identity bracelet with Forever engraved on it for Jason.
The day school let out for winter break, Jason drove her out on Dry Creek Road and parked in the empty visitors’ center lot at the base of Warm Springs Dam. The skies opened up, rain pounding the roof of his Honda and sheets of water pouring over the windshield. He kept the car running and the heater on, though it wasn’t necessary. The knowledge they were alone and the desire swimming in their bellies kept them warm. Eager to see if he liked his gift, she insisted he open hers first. As soon as he opened it, she took it from the box and attached it around his wrist. “So everyone will know you’re mine.”
Jason gave her a small white box tied with a red ribbon. He seemed nervous. “I hope you like it.” She told him she’d love anything he gave her, but drew in a soft breath of pleasure when she saw a delicate gold bracelet coiled on the cotton. She touched the small heart and glistening white pearl. She asked him to put it on her wrist. As he did, she kept her gaze fixed upon his face. “I love it, Jason. I’ll never take it off.” When he raised his head, she leaned toward him, lips parted.
The windows steamed up. The rain pounded harder and faster, as though trying to keep pace with their hearts. Murmuring his name, she clutched his shirt. He pressed her back against the seat. She wanted him closer. Pushing his jacket open, she slipped one hand beneath his sweater. She felt the smooth skin of his back, the hard muscle from lifting boxes of canned goods. His hand went under her thigh, gripping, sliding her down on the seat. She gave a soft cry as her head bumped hard against the armrest. Jason pulled back abruptly. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” Her voice came out raspy. She rubbed her head as he pulled her back up.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” When she leaned toward him again, he drew back.
“We’ve got to stop.” He shifted over and shut his eyes tightly, then opened them again, face taut. “We’d better go.”
“We were only kissing, Jason. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”
“No, but I wanted more.”
Swallowing hard, pulse pounding, she looked straight into his eyes. “I wouldn’t have stopped you.”
“That’s why we have to leave.” He released the emergency brake and put the car into reverse.
She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes and gulped a sob.
Jason stopped, rammed on the emergency brake, and put his arms around her. “Don’t cry. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have brought you out here. It’s my fault things got out of hand.” He tipped her chin and kissed her softly. “I’m sorry, Dawn. I won’t let it happen again.”
She believed him, which only hurt and frustrated her more. “You’re good all the time, Jason. All the time you’re good. And all I want is you.”
Jason touched her arm gently. “It isn’t what God wants for us, Dawn.”
God again. “Sometimes you talk as though He’s in the backseat.”
“He’s closer than that. He’s inside us.”
Us. Maybe that was the real problem. The Holy Spirit did live inside Jason. She had no doubt about that.
But she wondered… what about her?
Granny called, trying to wear Mom down about having the family Christmas dinner at Jenner by the Sea. Failing, Granny called Mitch at his office. Dawn arrived in time to overhear the end of the conversation. “I’ll talk to her, Hildie. Sure, I understand, but…” He rubbed his forehead. Dawn slipped into the chair in front of his desk, mouthed no, and shook her head. “What’s wrong with Trip? If it’s serious, Carolyn is going to insist you two come in.” He gave Dawn a pained look. Dawn leaned forward. Mitch shook his head and mouthed, He’s okay. She put her head back against the red leather wing chair. Just Granny applying the emotional screws again. “Let me talk to her. If she agrees, she’ll call you. Okay? That’s the most I can promise. I love you, too.”
Hanging up, Mitch gave her a wry grin. “And how was your day?”
“Are we going to Jenner for Christmas?”
“You heard what I said. Maybe. We’ll see. It’s up to your mother.”
“Then we’ll be going. I’m surprised she’s held out this long.”
“You don’t look pleased about it.”
“What’s wrong with Papa?”
“He doesn’t feel up to driving in and spending a few days in Alexander Valley. He wants to stay home.”
Dawn went into her bedroom and dumped her backpack. Flinging herself onto her bed, she stared at the ceiling. Jason had hoped to take her out over break, but it all depended on his work schedule and what plans his mother made.
Mitch had probably told Mom about Granny’s call by now. She decided to go to the kitchen, hoping to encourage her mother to hold her ground and insist Granny and Papa come in this year.
“Well, at least, let me bring something…” Mom was on the phone, perched on a kitchen table, knees together, feet up like a little girl.
So much for that idea. Dawn returned to her room and threw herself across the bed again.
Mom announced at dinner that they’d be going to Jenner by the Sea for Christmas Eve dinner. “She wants to serve dinner at six instead of four.”
“Then we’ll stay over,” Mitch decided. “It’ll be after ten before we finish unwrapping presents. No point in driving back in the dark on a windy road with the weather such as it is.”
“With the weather such as it is, they should come in,” Dawn said. “You know how Jenner gets this time of year. If there’s a real storm, we could end up stuck out there.”
“Too late, Pita.” Mitch gave her a cajoling smile. “Your mom agreed, and rightfully so. Granny said this is probably the last year she’ll have the family gathering, and she has her heart set on it.” He looked across at Mom. “She’ll pass you the baton.”
“Did she say that?” Mom sounded hopeful.
“Not exactly, but it’s only a matter of time.”
“It’s not about time, Mitch.” Mom looked defeated. She glanced at Dawn. “You’d better pack extra clothes. They’ll want you to stay through New Year’s.”
Dawn’s heart sank. “Maybe Christopher could stay this time.”
“No, Christopher can’t. Besides, you haven’t spent a weekend out there in over two months.”
Before Dawn could protest, Mitch spoke up. “If Jason wants to see you badly enough, he’ll drive out.”
Christmas went exactly as Dawn expected. When Mom tried to help, Granny acted like a pit bull guarding her territory. Only Dawn was allowed into the kitchen “so she’ll know what to do when she has a home of her own.” Sometimes Dawn wondered if Granny just wanted Mom out of the way and things back to the way they used to be when she was a little girl and Granny was her nanny.
After hours of labor, dinner disappeared in less than thirty minutes. Mom insisted on doing the dishes. “You cooked; I clean.” It started to turn into an argument before Papa and Mitch stepped in. Mitch said he’d help, and they’d open gifts when the dishes were washed and put away.
Papa took Granny by the arm and escorted her into the living room, where she sat nervous as a cat, staring at the closed door to the kitchen. She couldn’t stand to be idle. Papa told her to put on one of her old Christmas movies. “How about Ben-Hur?” Dawn suggested, knowing it was one of her favorites.
“There’s no time for Ben-Hur,” Papa grumbled.
“How about How the Grinch Stole Christmas?” Christopher piped up.
“We don’t have that one,” Granny said.
“How about A Christmas Story?” Christopher tried again. “The one where the boy wants a rifle.”
“A BB gun,” Dawn corrected him.
“We don’t have that one either,” Granny said.
“How about Hatari?” Papa said. “We have Hatari.”
“It’s not a Christmas story.”
When Papa put his head back and let out a heavy sigh, Granny got up. “We can have some nice Christmas music.”
Things eased up after Mom and Mitch came into the living room. Mom looked more relaxed. Mitch held her hand. When they sat on the couch, he put his arm around her and pulled her in tight against him. Christopher played elf and passed out the presents. Papa put out a big box so they could wad up wrapping paper and “shoot baskets.” Christopher pleaded to camp out in the living room so he could enjoy the colorful Christmas lights on the tree and the fire burning low in the fireplace. Mitch thought that was a grand idea and whispered something in Mom’s ear that made her blush.
“How’s Santa going to come if you’re here in the living room?” Papa teased Christopher.
“He’s not coming. We already opened all the presents.” Christopher grinned. “Besides, Papa, how’d he get down your chimney with a fire burning?”
They all laughed, even Granny, who sat with the robin’s-egg blue velvet robe with embroidered trim Mom had given her. She kept stroking it.
Mitch stood, drawing Mom up with him, and bid everyone good night. Granny smiled and nodded and told them to feel free to sleep in the following morning, then watched Mom leave the room, a pained and wistful look on her face.
Long after Granny and Papa had gone to bed and Christopher had settled down in a sleeping bag on the living room floor, Dawn lay awake.
Jason didn’t call.
Mom, Mitch, and Christopher piled everything into the Suburban and headed home after breakfast the next morning, leaving Dawn at Jenner with Granny and Papa. “We’re going to have such a good time together,” Granny promised, and Dawn didn’t want to disappoint her. While Papa dozed in front of the television, Granny made an angel food cake. Dawn sat at the kitchen table and talked about Jason. She showed off the bracelet he’d given her, though she left out personal details of what had happened during their gift exchange.
“Your first love.” Granny smiled. “It’s a milestone.”
“He’s my last love, too, Granny.”
“That’s the way it was for me and Papa. He was the first man I dated and the only one I’ve ever loved.” She slid the angel food cake into the oven. “I think it was that way with Oma, too. Fidelity must run in the family, just skipped one generation.”
Dawn recognized the reference to Mom’s hippy years and ignored it. “What was Opa like?”
Granny sat across from her. “He was grand. Tall, blond, handsome. He was at least a head taller than Mama. And strong as Atlas. I remember him lifting me as though I didn’t weigh more than a feather. He worked hard. So did Mama, of course, but my father enjoyed life more. He didn’t allow things to worry him the way Mama did. He sang in the orchard. My mother never sang, except in church. And he had the patience of Job, especially with Mama. She’d get so het up about things, had to have her way.”
Dawn held back a smile, thinking Granny could fit that description, not that she’d like hearing it. “Do you have any pictures of him?”
“Just a couple. There’s one in the bedroom on my dresser. They had it taken before Bernie went away to college. Bernie had copies made later on. Photographs were expensive in those days, and they never had a lot of money to spare. Rikka drew pictures of Papa and Mama and had them framed. They’re probably in one of the storage boxes out in the garage.”
Dawn followed Granny into the bedroom later while she put some towels away. She picked up the portrait and sat on her grandparents’ old king bed to study it. Oma, with dark hair cut short and pushed back from her plain face, stood straight, shoulders back, chin up, eyes straight ahead, lips curved into a taut smile. She stared straight into the camera lens, expression grim, as though having her picture taken was the last thing she wanted to do. Opa, on the other hand, looked at ease, a relaxed smile on his lips. Strikingly handsome in a dark suit, white shirt, and tie, he stood with one shoulder behind Oma, his head tilted toward her. Dawn imagined he had his arm around her waist, holding her in place. “Opa was sure handsome.”
“Blond hair and blue eyes.” Granny tucked away the towels and came out of the pink- and black-tiled bathroom. She took the picture and studied it with a smile. “Bernie got his looks. All the girls at school fell in love with him. Cloe and Rikka got his coloring, too.” She set the picture firmly on her dresser. “I took after Mama.”
Jason called two days after Christmas. “We just got back from LA.” When she asked if he’d gone to Hollywood or down to Disneyland, he said no. His mom wanted him to walk the campuses at UCLA and USC and Pepperdine.
“I thought she wanted you to go to Berkeley.”
“We’re not talking about Berkeley anymore.” He changed the subject before she could ask why. “When are you coming home?”
“New Year’s Day.” She turned her back on Granny when she came into the kitchen. She lowered her voice. “I miss you, Jason.”
“Would your grandparents mind if I came out to see you?”
Heart singing, she told Granny and Papa her boyfriend was coming for a visit. She was so excited she couldn’t sit still. She changed from sweats to fitted jeans and a pink sweater. She put on a touch of makeup. Maybe they could visit with Granny and Papa for a little while and then go over to the beach.
How long before he got there? It only took forty minutes and it had been forty-five. She sat at the kitchen table watching cars come around the bend before crossing to tiny Bridgehaven with its trailer park-flooded now-two-room motel, and restaurant overlooking the river.
The rain started again. So much for taking a walk on the beach.
An hour passed, and then another. “Road might be closed,” Papa told her while eating a sandwich at the kitchen table. “Aren’t many places to stop and call.”
Finally, she spotted his car zinging along Highway 1. When the car slowed through Jenner and turned right onto Willig, she darted out the back door to unlatch the gate. Swinging it open, she stayed under the wooden cover and watched him park. Heart knocking, she smiled as he got out of the car. “I was worried you got stuck somewhere!”
“I didn’t want to come empty-handed.” He leaned back into the car, sweater stretching taut over his shoulders, jeans snug, and lifted out a cellophane-wrapped potted poinsettia and box of Russell Stover chocolates. When she reached for the chocolates, he drew them back and grinned at her. “For your grandparents, not for you.” She laughed. He looked toward the house and then leaned down to brush a kiss against her cheek. “Not sure I can stay long. There were a lot of fallen limbs on the road, and water just after Guerneville.”
“If the road closes, you can always stay over.”
“I don’t think my mom would go for that idea.”
The sky opened up, rain pounding the roof and streaking down over the living room windows. Papa said he’d better go down and get some presto logs out from under the garage in case the power went off. Jason insisted he’d take care of it. “Nice young man,” Papa said.
“And handsome, too,” Granny added. Dawn felt smug. At least she had her family’s approval.
Granny suggested an early afternoon dinner “so Jason can eat before he heads home.” Jason became so engrossed in Papa’s World War II stories that Dawn went into the kitchen to help Granny make a tossed green salad and a casserole of turkey, dressing, and gravy. They all sat to eat at three. By four, the sky had darkened. The rain hadn’t let up. Jason gave Dawn an apologetic look and said he’d better go. Papa said he’d better call highway patrol first and see if the road was open through Guerneville.
It wasn’t. Papa said Jason would have to take the road south through Bodega and go back through Sebastopol in order to get the highway north to Windsor.
Granny protested. “It’s dark. And that’s too far to go in driving rain, especially if you aren’t familiar with the coast highway. Jason should stay here with us.” She suggested he call his mom so she wouldn’t worry. Dawn suggested Granny go on into the living room with Papa and let her take care of washing the dishes. For once, Granny didn’t quibble. Maybe she understood how desperately Dawn wanted to be alone with Jason, even if only for a few minutes, before his mother insisted he get back in his car and come home no matter how bad the weather.
Jason sighed. “She’ll be ticked off.”
“It’s not like you started the storm, Jason.”
“No, but she told me it was a bad idea coming out here.”
Dawn wondered if she’d been talking about the weather or seeing her. Jason punched in the numbers. His mother must have been sitting by the telephone because it barely had time to ring before Jason said, “Hi, Mom.”
Dawn squirted dish soap into the old porcelain sink, turned on the hot water, and pretended not to listen.
“The road’s closed. I’m going to have to stay out here.” He listened briefly. “It’d take two hours to go that way, and I only have half a tank of gas…” Jason turned away. Elbows on knees, shoulders tense, he hunched over the receiver and growled. “Jeez louise, Mom, would you rather I ended up over a cliff in the ocean-”
Apparently his mother cut him off. Dawn added some cold to the hot and grabbed one of the glasses.
“Nice to know how much you trust me.” Jason grew more angry. “We’re not alone out here, Mom. Both of Dawn’s grandparents are with us, and it’s a small house. Two chaperones. Is that good enough?” He listened for another few seconds. “Okay. I’m sorry, but-” He sat up and let out a steamed breath. “Yeah, I hear you. First thing in the morning. Okay, okay. Yes! I’ll drive south if the roads are still closed. I promise.” He hung up. His expression looked faintly triumphant. “Need some help with those dishes?”
“Sure.” She smiled. He’d be here all night! “The towels are in that drawer.” When he stepped close beside her, she looked up, melting inside. He told her how much he liked her grandfather as he dried glasses and then silverware, asking where things went. Dawn daydreamed. Someday, when they got married, they’d stand like this every night and do dishes together.
They’d just finished putting everything away when Granny came into the kitchen with a pile of burgundy sheets, a pillowcase, and flannel pajamas. “Here’s an extra pair of Papa’s pajamas for you, Jason, and Dawn can make up the bed downstairs.”
Jason looked blank. “Downstairs?”
“The apartment. There’s an electric blanket on the bed, but we’ll keep the heat on so you don’t get too cold. You’ll be snug as a bug down there.”
“Please don’t go to any trouble. I can sleep on the couch.”
“Nonsense.” Granny dumped the pile into Dawn’s waiting arms. “We like our guests to be comfortable.” She went back into the living room.
Dawn headed for the back door. “Come on. I’ll show you where you’ll be.” He opened the door for her as she called out to her grandparents that they would be back in a few minutes.
The frosty air of the downstairs apartment struck Dawn as she stepped inside. Jason followed her. Mom had folded up the hide-a-bed-Chris hadn’t slept in it anyway-and put the coffee table back. Granny’s small writing desk sat in the corner. A Victorian lounge chair sat in the back room facing the stripped queen-size bed. Mom had left the thermal and electric blankets and blue chenille spread folded neatly across the end. Jason straddled the flowery lounge and watched Dawn shake out the bottom flannel sheet. She worked quickly. “You look like you know how to make a bed.”
She laughed, excited to have him here, even more excited at the thought of him sleeping just down the stairs from her room. “Granny taught me how to do square corners. She was a nurse.” Shaking out the top sheet, she glanced at him and saw something in his expression that made her breath catch.
She unfolded the electric blanket, making sure it was plugged in properly, before spreading it over the burgundy sheets. Dawn didn’t notice any cold air now, and no warm air blasted yet from the heating vent. Jason got up and helped spread the thermal blanket over the top. They didn’t speak. Pillowcase fitted, she plumped the pillow, pulled the bedspread up, and tucked it neatly under.
They stood on opposite sides of the bed, staring at one another.
Jason came around the side of the bed and took her hand. “Can I kiss you again?”
Trembling, she looked at him. “I wish you would.”
Tilting his head toward her, he whispered, “I was afraid your grandparents might get the wrong idea…” When his mouth covered hers, she stepped closer, putting her arms around his neck and pressing her body fully and firmly against him. His soft groan lit a fire inside her. His hands moved down her back to her waist and hips and then up again, encircling her tightly. He dragged his mouth away. “I don’t think I’m going to get much sleep down here. I’ll be lying awake, staring at the ceiling, knowing you’re right above me.” When he kissed her again, she fitted her body to his and heard his sharp intake of breath. They were both shaking when Jason finally set her away from him. “We’d better go upstairs before your grandparents wonder what’s going on down here.”
Granny and Papa stayed up later than usual. When Papa pushed himself out of his recliner and said it was time to hit the sack, Jason stood and said he’d better go to bed, too, and thank you for everything. Dawn said good night to him from the couch and watched him go out the back door. He glanced back at her through the glass before heading for the wooden steps to the downstairs. Granny paused in the bedroom doorway and looked at her. “Are you staying up, Dawn?”
“I’m not sleepy yet. I thought I’d watch television for a while.”
“Turn down the thermostat when you go to bed.” Granny wished her a good night and closed the French glass doors with their sheer privacy curtains. Dawn pulled a crocheted afghan around her shoulders. She lowered the volume and changed the channel. She heard Papa’s loud snores. He always fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. It wasn’t long before Granny made it a duet. Dawn waited another fifteen minutes before turning off the television and resetting the thermostat. She took a quick shower and slipped on her nightgown. Pulling the covers back, she rumpled them and stuffed two pillows underneath in the off chance Granny awakened and felt the need to look in on her.
She closed the accordion doors before carefully opening the back door. She made sure it was unlocked before quietly closing it behind her. Then she hurried tiptoe down the wooden steps, feeling the icy drops of rain soaking through her cotton gown. A soft light shone above the apartment door. She hesitated. Then, shivering with cold, she pushed the door open. Her heart lurched as it creaked. As she stepped inside the door, Jason turned on the bedside light. “What are you doing?” Throwing the covers off, he got out of bed.
Jason looked so comical in Grandpa’s pajamas, Dawn giggled nervously. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Shhh… You’d better go before they-”
“Listen!” she whispered, pointing up. Papa snored so loudly, they could hear him downstairs. She grinned at him. “They both sleep like logs. They won’t know a thing.”
“You’re shivering.” He put his arms around her. “You’re wet!”
“It’s raining.” She inhaled his scent. It went right to her head. “I’m freezing.” She shivered, loving the feel of his arms around her. His heart pounded harder. “I’d be warmer in bed.”
“Not a good idea.”
“We won’t do anything.” She slipped her arms around him. “We’ll just talk.”
Beneath the covers, Jason held her close and asked if she was warm enough. She said no and snuggled closer, pressing her body against the length of his. She heard his breath quicken. They did talk, for a little while. Then they kissed. Heating up fast, they had to push the covers off. Niggling doubts flitted into Dawn’s mind as passion grew.
Fear gripped her at the last. Too late. She sucked in her breath at the unexpected pain. Jason stopped, rasping an apology. She said, “It’s okay; it’s okay.” They both knew it wasn’t. Worse, they couldn’t go back.
This wasn’t how she imagined it would be.
When it was all over, Jason sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. Dawn pulled the blankets up to her chin. Silent, rigid, eyes welling, she felt sick with regret. What had she done?
Jason was silent so long, she felt driven to speak. “I love you.” That’s why she’d done it. “I love you, Jason.” She sounded like a frightened child afraid of being chastised.
“I love you, too.” Jason’s voice was thick with tears. And regret.
Ashamed, Dawn shoved the covers off and fled to the door. Jason caught up with her and wrapped his arms around her. Pulling her firmly against him, he whispered against her hair, “It’s my fault.” He drew in a ragged breath. “I should’ve gone home.”
Hurt by his remorse, ashamed of her own behavior, she spoke tersely, voice breaking. “I wish you had.”
Of course, Granny insisted Jason have breakfast before he left. Jason glanced at her once when she came out of her bedroom. He had dark shadows under his eyes, as though he hadn’t slept any better than she had. Dawn could tell it took concentrated effort for Jason to smile and act normal, to talk with her grandparents as though nothing had happened last night.
Sitting there at the table, Granny and Papa chattering away, Jason giving distracted answers, she kept thinking, I had sex with Jason downstairs last night in the bed Mom and Mitch slept in a few days ago. Granny and Papa were right upstairs. They all trust me. They respect Jason. What would they think of us now if they knew? She felt cold prickles along her arms. What if Jason confessed what they’d done to Pastor Daniel? What if he told Tom Barrett and Tom told Kim?
She hadn’t expected to feel sick with guilt and shame. She knew Jason felt even worse than she did. He didn’t hurry, but he didn’t linger over breakfast the way he might have if she’d stayed in her own bedroom last night.
“I’d better get going.” Jason said his good-byes and thank-yous. Dawn followed him out to his car. She stood under the overhang, arms wrapped around herself, afraid of what he might say. Jason gave her the same chaste peck on the cheek that he had when he arrived yesterday. Only his eyes looked different. “The sheets are…” He winced. “They’re going to know.”
Dawn’s face went hot. “I’ll strip the bed and wash them.” Thank goodness Granny had given her burgundy sheets rather than white ones, or she’d never be able to wash away their sin.
Sin!
Shocked, Dawn felt the word stab her heart like a spear, leaving her wounded. We sinned. I sinned.
“I’m sorry, Jason.” She pressed her lips together, tears spilling from her eyes.
He stepped close, his hand at her waist as he whispered into her ear. “I love you. Nothing’s going to change that.”
But something already had.
1987
Dawn didn’t hear from or see Jason until school started again. He stood waiting when the bus pulled in and fell into step beside her as she headed inside to her locker. “We have to talk.”
“You could’ve called.” Hurt, angry, she walked on.
“I couldn’t. Mom and I had a big fight when I got home.”
The blood drained from her head, and she felt faint with fear. “Did you tell her?”
“No.” Glancing around, he leaned closer while she worked the combination and opened her locker. “How long before we know if you’re…?” She could feel his embarrassment. She looked at him and let him see her fear and hurt, and he frowned. “Things will work out.” When Jason took her hand, she wove her fingers through his and held tight, afraid he’d fall out of love with her as quickly as she had fallen in love with him.
Every day, he gave her that questioning look, and she shook her head. After three weeks had passed, he said he’d try to get a home pregnancy test. “I might not be able to buy one this week. Bill is working the same shift I am, and if he sees, he’ll say something to Mom.” Agitated, he raked a hand through his hair.
Mom awakened Dawn Saturday morning. “Your grandparents are going to be here in an hour.”
Dawn sat up and rubbed her eyes.
“Are you all right?”
Fear shot through her. Did her mother know? Had she some extrasensory perception that she could guess? “I’m fine.”
She showered, dressed, and threw her hair into a ponytail. A car honked loudly, and she drew back the sheer curtains. Granny and Papa had arrived in separate cars, Papa in a white Buick and Granny in their shiny black Sable. When Dawn opened the front door, Granny dangled the keys. “The Sable is all yours.”
Papa grinned. “Happy sixteenth birthday!”
“What?” Dawn stared. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”
“Of course not.” Granny took her limp hand and dropped the keys into it, closing Dawn’s fingers around them. “We wouldn’t kid about something like that.”
Dawn shrieked and threw her arms around Granny and then Papa. “Thank you, thank you!”
Mitch, Christopher, and Mom appeared and asked what was going on. Dawn darted out the door and ran her hands over the freshly polished Sable. “They said it’s mine!” she called back, happy for the first time in weeks. “I have wheels!”
Mom’s eyes widened. “You should’ve talked to me about it first.”
Granny scowled. “We’re doing it as much for you as for Dawn, Carolyn. You have Christopher in sports and music lessons and church group. Dawn can’t take a bus everywhere, you know. She needs a car. Now she has one.”
Mom’s face reddened. “It’s not for you to make that decision.” She turned to Mitch, who stood beside her. He looked grim.
Dawn came back, wanting the freedom the car offered. “You won’t have to drive me to Jenner, Mom. I can drive out all by myself.”
Granny beamed. Papa patted Dawn’s shoulder. “Everything’s been checked out. It’s a good car, Carolyn.”
“I know, Dad. That’s not-”
“That little baby won’t need any repairs for a long time to come. All the paperwork is in the glove compartment, Dawn. This car will run for another hundred thousand miles easily. You won’t find a better used car anywhere, and it gets good gas mileage.”
“It’s beautiful, Papa.” She kissed his cheek and embraced her grandmother. “I love it.”
Mom headed for the house. Granny’s expression soured. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Carolyn…” She stepped around Dawn and went after her.
Papa looked worried now. “Maybe we did get a little ahead of ourselves.”
“Yeah,” Mitch said solemnly. “You did. But it’s too late now to take it back, isn’t it?”
Dreading the argument she knew was brewing, Dawn went to the kitchen. Granny stood with her hands gripping the back of a kitchen chair, making her case, while Mom stood, back to her, at the sink peeling potatoes. “I’m sorry if I’ve done something wrong.” Granny sounded exasperated, not sorry.
“Can I say something?” Dawn pleaded. The swelling fear of the last three weeks made her feel even more vulnerable when Granny and Mom were at odds. “I really, really want the car, Mom, but I won’t even ask to drive it until after I have my license and you and Mitch are both satisfied that I’m a safe driver.”
Mom turned slowly and studied her. “What about insurance and gas?”
“We’ll pay for her insurance and give her an allowance, since it seems you won’t.”
Spots of pink bloomed in Mom’s cheeks. “No, we won’t, and you won’t either.” She blinked as she said it, as though surprising herself. Granny’s lips parted.
Things were going from bad to worse, and Dawn knew she was in the middle of the battlefield. “I have some savings, Granny, and I can get a part-time job after school at Java Joe’s.” At Granny’s blank expression, she added, “It’s a coffee shop near the square.” She looked between them. “It’d be fun. It’d be good for me.”
“We’ll talk about it later, Dawn.” Mom turned her back to both of them and resumed peeling potatoes.
Granny pulled the chair out and wilted into it. “I should’ve asked first. I’m sorry, Dawn, but maybe…”
Mom put her hands on the sink. “Dawn can keep the car.” She sounded tired and defeated.
Dawn stood between the two women she loved most in the world and wanted to weep. Oma suddenly popped into her mind like a specter. “Wouldn’t it be nice if we all had tea?” Oma had said the same thing every day when she and Mom visited her in Merced. Mom turned toward her. Face crumpling, she muttered a soft excuse and left the kitchen.
“She hasn’t gotten over Oma yet.” Dawn spoke into the silence.
Granny’s shoulders drooped. “I don’t think she ever will.”
Mitch and Papa and Christopher carried the conversation through dinner. When Mom got up to clear the table, Mitch suggested they all go into the family room. Papa kept glancing at Granny, who sat silent and distracted. Mom called everyone into the kitchen. She had set out a sheet cake decorated with pink flowers and Happy 16th Birthday, May Flower Dawn written in white across the icing. “Chocolate!” Dawn forced a brightness into her voice that she didn’t feel. “My favorite.” She smiled at her mother and thanked her. She felt Mitch squeeze her shoulder.
Leaning down, he kissed her cheek the way Jason had the morning before Dawn changed everything between them. “You’re growing up, Dawn.”
Maybe more than he could even imagine.
She opened Christopher’s gift first and raised her brows at him. “A soccer ball? Are you sure this is for me?”
“You played really, really well.” He grinned impishly. “You can teach me.”
“Thanks, sport.” She ruffled his hair and gave him a hard hug.
Mom and Mitch gave her a pearl necklace and pearl stud earrings. “Pearls for innocence.” Dawn felt Mitch’s hand on her shoulder.
Her mother spoke from across the table. “They’re also a rite of passage into womanhood.”
Dawn couldn’t raise her head for fear of what they might see in her face. She wasn’t innocent anymore, and she didn’t feel like a woman either. She touched the luminous pearls and swallowed the tears gathering and almost choking her. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
She lay in bed that night crying softly, silently confessing her sin and pleading with God that no baby had been made. Startled, she heard a tap on the door, and Mom came in. She sat on the end of Dawn’s bed. “What’s wrong, Dawn? Are you upset because Jason didn’t remember your birthday?”
“I didn’t tell him.” She’d forgotten all about it. Her mind had been too filled with worries and fears to think about anything else.
“Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you? You haven’t been yourself for the last few weeks.”
“I’m okay.” One lie. “I just feel so stirred up all the time.” True. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Another lie. They didn’t come as easily after she’d just been begging God for mercy.
“I’m just worrying about the future.” That was true, at least. She wanted to bury her head in the pillow again and sob, but she couldn’t do that with her mother sitting so close. Dawn felt her mother’s hand through the blanket.
“You won’t turn eighteen for another two years. You have plenty of time to make decisions.”
Dawn gave a hoarse laugh. “I know.” She’d already made one. A bad one.
Her mother squeezed her foot. “You can talk to me, you know.” She waited a moment. “About anything.” She waited again. Minutes passed. She let out a soft sigh and got up. “Good night, May Flower Dawn.” She stood at the open doorway. “If you can’t talk to me, you know you can always go to Granny.” She closed the door quietly behind her.
After two more days of feverish prayers of repentance and promises of chastity and obedience, God answered her prayers.
Jason met her at the bus stop the next morning. His mouth curved in an uncertain smile. “Everything okay?”
“Everything is perfect!”
For the first time, Jason kissed her there in front of everyone. He took her hand as they walked into school together, both forgetting the door they had opened and the untamed beast that now prowled loose.
Mitch and Mom thought it would be a good idea if she got a part-time job. Java Joe’s manager, Dennis Bingley, didn’t even ask her to fill out an application, but hired her on the spot. “The boys will be lining up for coffee when they see you.” She worked Monday through Friday afternoons from three to five. Jason drove her downtown, bought one coffee, and stationed himself at one of the small tables tucked in a back corner, where he did homework until four thirty. Boys did line up, but she didn’t pay any attention. Whenever she cleared and cleaned a table, she’d stop by Jason’s. Mitch picked Dawn up on his way home.
After six weeks, and hours of practice driving with Mitch, Dawn felt ready to face the DMV test. She passed with flying colors and drove the Sable home. Mom told her over dinner that night she could drive the car to school. Dawn said she’d take turns with Sharon driving to youth group, but she wanted to continue riding the bus to school. That way, she’d save money for the next insurance premium as well as gas.
“And Jason will still give you a ride to work.” Mitch gave her a smirk that said she wasn’t fooling anyone. She conceded that was part of her reasoning.
The first Saturday after she gained driving privileges, she drove to the Windsor Trailer Park. The double-wide looked old, but well-tended, with potted flowers on a small deck with green- and white-striped awning and a pebble driveway, where Jason’s Honda was parked. Jason, dressed in sweatpants and a sleeveless T-shirt, opened the door before she even knocked. He came out barefoot and admired her car. An elderly lady opened her screen door just across the way. “A friend of yours, Jason?”
“Study partner,” he called back. “How are you doing this morning, Mrs. Edwards?”
“Can’t complain.” She sat in a rocker on her little porch.
Jason opened the front door, and Dawn entered a carpeted living room with a worn green plaid couch, two matching chairs, and a coffee table facing a small television on an old cabinet. Beige drapes and sheers let a shaft of light through the front window.
“It must feel claustrophobic to you,” Jason said grimly.
“It’s cozy. Comfortable.”
A small Early American table with two chairs was cluttered with books, an open binder, and papers. “You’re studying.”
“Every spare minute.” He drew her into his arms. “I needed a break.” He kissed her. One gentle, tentative kiss led to another and another.
Breathless, she began to worry. “Where’s your mom?”
“Working. Until noon.”
“Maybe I should go.” When he didn’t let go, she wondered if she had said the words aloud or just thought them. He asked if she wanted to see his room. Of course, she did. Things quickly got out of hand, not that either tried to stop, not until someone rapped on the door. Jason pulled away and got off the bed. “It’s probably Mrs. Edwards.” Another rap sounded, louder this time. “If I don’t answer, she’s going to think something’s going on.”
Think something is going on? Dawn wanted to laugh hysterically. “Wait!” She ducked into the bathroom and leaned against the door. Adjusting her clothing, she raked fingers through her hair. She could hear Mrs. Edwards.
“I don’t think your mother would want a girl here when she’s not.”
Jason said they were just talking. “Then where is she? I don’t see her sitting on the sofa.”
Dawn flushed the toilet and ran the water noisily before stepping out of the bathroom. She pretended surprise. “Oh, hi.” Mrs. Edwards muttered something to Jason and went down the steps. “What’d she say?”
He gave a brief laugh. “She told me I’d better behave myself.”
Blushing, Dawn shrugged her purse onto her shoulder. Neither one of them had been doing a good job of that lately. “I’d better go.”
Jason walked her to her car. He said he wished she wouldn’t go. They stood and talked awhile. Mrs. Edwards sat in her rocker watching them. Jason asked if Dawn was planning to go on the mission trip to Mexico. She said she was and had already gotten the financial backing she needed from Mom and Mitch and her grandparents. “Plus I’m putting in some of my own money,” she added, proud of herself. “What about you?” He said he wasn’t sure yet, but he hoped so. Before Dawn got into her car, she waved at Mrs. Edwards and said it was nice meeting her.
The following Saturday, Dawn brought her backpack full of books, and they did study, for a little while. She left an hour before Georgia Steward was due home. The Saturday after that, they didn’t even bother to open a book.
The next Saturday, Georgia Steward’s white van with Georgia’s Housekeeping Services painted in red on the side was parked behind Jason’s white Honda. Disappointed, Dawn figured she and Jason would just have to study today. At least they’d be together. Grabbing her book bag, Dawn slid out of her Sable. Mrs. Edwards wasn’t sitting on the porch this morning, but movement in the front curtains told Dawn the old lady was still watching. Annoyed, Dawn went up the steps and tapped at the door, expecting Jason to answer. His mother opened the door. “Hello, Dawn.”
“Hi.” Dawn plastered a smile on her face despite the cool look on Georgia’s. “I’m here to study with Jason.”
“Come in.” Georgia opened the door all the way. The drapes had been pulled back, allowing sunlight to stream in. Jason’s bedroom door was wide-open. She had seen his car in the driveway. Where was he? “Have a seat.” Georgia closed the front door.
Dawn felt her body tense. She put her book bag down and took a seat at the table. “Where’s Jason?”
Georgia sat across from her and folded her hands. “He’s gone for the day.”
“Gone?” Dawn’s heart pounded in alarm. Why hadn’t he called her? She felt increasingly uncomfortable under his mother’s scrutiny.
“He and Pastor Daniel took a little fishing trip. He didn’t know he was going until early this morning.”
Dawn felt the urge to take flight. “I should go then.” She reached for her book bag.
“Not yet.” Georgia’s tone was firmer this time, colder.
Leaving the book bag on the floor, Dawn eased back into the seat, knees trembling beneath the table. “Is something wrong?”
Georgia’s expression turned to one of disdain. “You could say that, couldn’t you?” Her knuckles whitened. “I knew what was going on between the two of you when Jason came home from Jenner. He couldn’t look me in the eye. I watched him sweat for a month and thought maybe the two of you had learned your lesson. And then Mrs. Edwards told me yesterday that you’ve been coming over every Saturday… to study.”
“We do study.”
Georgia reached into her pocket and put a crumpled, empty condom wrapper on the table between them.
Dawn felt all the blood draining from her face. She met Georgia’s glare. “I love him. And he loves me.”
Georgia’s face flushed. Her brown eyes grew hotter. “You don’t know anything about love! You’re a spoiled, self-centered little girl who wants what she wants and wants it now.” She leaned forward. “Your love has single-handedly ruined most of Jason’s chances to escape this trailer park. His grades have dropped. He no longer has the qualifications to get into UC Berkeley-or get a full scholarship to Stanford. He spent most of his savings buying that car so he could take you out. He hardly reads his Bible anymore, and his relationship with God used to be the most important thing in his life!”
Dawn flinched as Georgia stood abruptly and stepped away from the table. After a moment, she continued in a taut, restrained tone. “If you get pregnant, Jason will do the right thing. But I’d like to give you a picture of what your lives will be like if that should happen.” She sat again, more in control, eyes like black ice.
“Jason will have to give up all his dreams of college. He’ll have to find a job to support you and your baby. And what sort of job will he find with only a high school diploma? Minimum wage. Of course, he won’t make enough working nine to five to pay rent on a place as grand as this.” Her eyes swept the room derisively. “So Jason, being Jason, will want to do better. He’ll get a second job, which won’t please you because you’ll never see him. He’ll be working all the time just to keep a roof over your head and food on the table for the three of you. And then there are the utilities and medical expenses. Of course, you’ll be lonely. You’ll carry the full responsibility of taking care of your baby: changing diapers, nursing, getting up at all hours of the night. You’ll be exhausted. You’ll feel overwhelmed. The baby will be your only company. After a while, you’ll get bored sitting around the trailer. When Jason finally does make it home, you’ll complain he’s never around. He’s no fun anymore. He doesn’t make you happy.”
Dawn started to cry.
“Tears don’t work with me, honey.”
“Why do you hate me so much?” Wrapping her arms around herself, Dawn fought for control.
“I don’t hate you. I just don’t like you. Why should I? You’re ruining my son’s life!” Georgia sounded distraught, close to tears. She released her breath slowly. “He’s in love with you. Anyone can see that. He’s so in love he can’t think straight. He won’t listen to a word of caution. You’ve stripped him of his dreams, taken his innocence, and now you’re on the road to destroying his potential.” She let out her breath in frustration.
Dawn couldn’t raise her head.
“Look at me, Dawn.” When she managed to raise her head, Georgia stared at her. “What I see in front of me is a very pretty sixteen-year-old girl with no character and no substance. You have nothing at all to offer Jason, and you’re too willfully stupid and selfish to see or even care about the damage you’re doing to him. That’s not love. Not by any stretch of the imagination. You think you can live with your romantic daydreams. Fairy tales always end with ‘happily ever after,’ don’t they? You don’t know how wrong you are.”
When Georgia didn’t say anything more, Dawn spoke in a small voice. “Can I go now?”
“Please do. And don’t you dare come into this house again, not unless I invite you.”
Dawn got up quickly and headed for the door.
“One last thing.” Georgia still sat at the table, face turned away. “You’ll probably run straight to Jason and tell him everything I’ve said to you… or those parts that serve your purpose.” She looked at Dawn then, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “But remember this: Someday, Jason will grow up. And when he does, he’ll see the truth for himself.”
Dawn’s first instinct was to go to Granny and sob out her woe, but she quickly dismissed that idea. Dawn knew she could do no wrong in Granny’s eyes. Granny always took her side. If Granny knew she’d seduced Jason in the downstairs apartment, she’d be deeply hurt. She might start thinking Dawn was the kind of person who could live the wild life in Haight-Ashbury like her mother had.
What was Pastor Daniel saying to Jason right now? Was he hearing the same things Georgia Steward believed? That girl isn’t good enough for you. She has nothing at all to offer. She’s selfish, spoiled, carnal, and probably not even a Christian. What are you thinking, Jason? Why would you want to be with her?
She drove aimlessly for an hour, then went home. Her mother had an open house. Mitch and Christopher had gone bowling. Dawn went straight to her bedroom. Stripping off her clothes, she took a long, hot shower. She scrubbed and still felt unclean. Hunkered in the corner of the shower, she sobbed as the water pounded her. The air thickened with steam. She felt no better when she stepped out and dried off. Pulling on sweats, she got into bed. She lay there for the rest of the day, going over and over what Jason’s mother had said.
“Dawn?” Mom tapped at the door. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
“I’m not hungry.” When Mom opened the door, Dawn covered her head with a pillow.
“Are you sick?”
Lovesick. Heartsick. Sick with shame. “Just go away, Mom. Please.” She half hoped her mother would press harder this time, but she left quietly, closing the door behind her.
Hours later, the door opened again, a spear of light from the hallway intruding. Mom came in this time. She didn’t turn on a light. She sat on the end of the bed, but didn’t say a word.
After fifteen minutes, Dawn couldn’t bear the silence. She whispered, “Would you hate me if I told you Jason and I have been having sex?”
“No.” No questions, just a firm response, then silence again.
Dawn sat up slowly, bunching the pillow tight against her chest, thankful for the darkness. She wouldn’t be able to see her mother’s disappointment. “I went to see him this morning. He wasn’t there. His mother talked to me.”
When Mom still didn’t ask anything, Dawn went on talking, slowly, painfully, until everything spilled out in a flood of tears. When Dawn finished, she pressed her face into the pillow already damp from an afternoon of weeping. She felt her mother’s hand on her head.
“Words can be a sword to the heart, Dawn.” Mom ran her fingers gently through Dawn’s hair. “Sometimes there’s truth in them. Sometimes there isn’t. Go over what Jason’s mother said to you. If there’s any truth in it, you’ll have to decide what to do with it. As to the rest, try to let it go.” Her hand lifted.
Dawn curled into a fetal position. Her mother stood and pulled the covers up, tucking them in around her as though she were a little girl again. Leaning down, she kissed Dawn and whispered, “And try to forgive.”
Jason called Sunday night. He said his mom told him she’d come by. He apologized for not being there. “Pastor Daniel took me out to the coast. I didn’t know he was coming until he showed up.”
She said it was okay. She and his mother talked. He wanted to know what about. She said nothing much. Just small talk. No character. No substance. Nothing to offer…
“Dawn…” She knew by his tone what was coming. “I think maybe we should stop hanging out for a while.”
She couldn’t have prepared for the pain his words brought. She tried to press her lips together to keep from crying out. She hunched over, mouth open in agony. Shutting her eyes, she wanted to beg. She wanted to remind him they said they loved each other. Instead, she heard the echo of Georgia’s voice. Someday, Jason will grow up. And when he does, he’ll see the truth…
“Are you okay with that?” Jason sounded uncertain. Did he want her to say no? Did he want her to talk him out of it? And if she did, what then?
You’ll ruin his life…
Dawn had spent all of Saturday night and all of Sunday thinking about what Jason’s mother had said, seeing the awful truth in it. Only one thing was false. She did love Jason.
She’d dreamed about Oma last night. She’d come like a vision, speaking words of wisdom. “When you know what you want in life, May Flower Dawn, go after it. Sometimes it doesn’t end up the way you planned. Trust God and it’ll turn out better.”
Dawn knew what she wanted. She wanted to be Jason’s wife. She wanted to have his children. She wanted to spend her life with him. And now she’d ruined it all. What had she brought into his life? Sin. Regret. Fear. Shame.
“Dawn? Are you there?”
Her breath caught softly, throat thick with pain and tears. “I think you’re right.”
She went into the kitchen and told Mom and Mitch she and Jason had broken up. She asked if she could transfer to the independent study program. She didn’t have to explain why. Mom said she’d call the school Monday morning and do everything she could to make that happen.
Dawn didn’t return to youth group until Kim and Sharon told her Jason wouldn’t be coming back because of his job. “About the only time I see Jason is at church on Sunday,” Kim told her. “He comes with his mom. He doesn’t come by the house and talk with Dad anymore.”
A month after Jason broke up with her, Dawn came home from independent study and found a message on her answering machine. “I love you, Dawn.” His voice roused all the pain and longing she had tried so hard to push down. He cleared his throat as though having trouble speaking. “I’ll love you forever.” Click. She sat on the bed and replayed it, letting herself wallow in regrets.
She didn’t know what to do about the Mexico mission trip over spring break. She’d received pledges of financial backing from Mitch and her grandparents. She had a certified copy of her birth certificate. But if Jason was going, she knew she shouldn’t. It would be too hard to be together. Sharon asked her why she hadn’t said yes or no, and Dawn admitted her dilemma. Sharon called the next day. “I talked to Jason. He’s not going to Mexico. He has to work. He said you ought to feel free to go now that you know he isn’t.”
Pastor Daniel might not share that opinion. She had no doubt Georgia Steward had talked with him about Dawn’s relationship with Jason. He might not want someone like her to be part of his team. Dawn needed to know one way or the other, but it took days to gather the courage to call him.
Pastor Daniel seemed surprised by her question. “Of course, I want you on our team.”
Maybe he didn’t know everything. Maybe Georgia Steward hadn’t wanted to share that information. “I didn’t want to take anything for granted, Pastor Daniel.”
“God loves a broken and contrite spirit, Dawn.” His quiet words dispelled any illusions about whether Jason’s mother had spoken to him. They also reassured her that Pastor Daniel wasn’t going to throw stones.
After all the talk of how a mission trip could change a person’s outlook on life, Dawn didn’t know what to expect. Hearing about poverty or seeing it on television ads wasn’t the same as being in the middle of it, smelling it, tasting it in the air. They drove down streets with houses tucked tight together, garbage dumped and rotting in the streets. Some people lived in shelters that couldn’t even be called shanties. What surprised Dawn most was the people: They smiled and shouted greetings as the Amor ministry team arrived. Children ran alongside the van, waving and calling out in Spanish.
After a night’s sleep, she and the others rose early and went to work building a twelve-by-fourteen-foot house for the Guttierez family. Dawn’s hands blistered, her back ached, and she smelled of sweat like any common laborer. When Pastor Daniel told her to take a break, she sat in the shade and watched some children kicking an old soccer ball back and forth. She wasn’t a great hod carrier or carpenter, but she knew how to play soccer. Dawn joined the children and showed off a few tricks she’d learned while playing for the Sky Hawks. Soon, children swarmed around her whenever she wasn’t working on the house.
On the last night, house complete, Senor and Senora Guttierez insisted on hosting dinner for the entire team. Leftover boards propped up on sawhorses acted as a dining table. Senora Guttierez and her teenage daughter, Maria, made a big pot of beans and chicken enchiladas with cheese. Senor Guttierez stood at the head of the table, tears running down his rugged cheeks, as he told them in broken English what it meant to him to have a house for his family. Senora Guttierez added her shy thanks, as did their five children.
Dawn went outside, sat hunched against the wall, and wept. Pastor Daniel came out and sat beside her. “What’s on your mind?”
“My bedroom is bigger than their entire house.” She covered her face. Had she ever once said thank you for the blessings she had received? Not that she could remember. And the Guttierez family hadn’t stopped thanking all of them since the day the team arrived.
“From those to whom much is given, much is required.”
And there it was again, that piercing stab of conscience. “I think they spent everything they have to put on this dinner.” What had she ever given to anyone?
“Probably, and they’re proud and pleased to do it. They count the ability to give as a blessing, too.” He got up and smiled at her. “Come back inside when you’re ready.”
Dawn sat for a while longer. These people worked hard and barely managed to get by. They wanted the opportunity for a better life for their children. Georgia Steward popped into her mind. “Your love has single-handedly ruined most of Jason’s chances to escape this trailer park.” Dawn leaned her head against the wall she’d helped build. Was that true? Not entirely, but enough so that it stung. Jason still had opportunities. So did she.
Before leaving the next morning, the CCC crew left the remaining food supplies, bottled water, building materials, and some tools. As soon as they crossed the border and started the long drive north to Anaheim, where they would stop and spend a day at Disneyland as reward for their labors, everyone fell asleep except Pastor Daniel, Mr. Jackson in the passenger seat, and Dawn in the back. While they talked, she sat in the back row, staring out the window and praying.
Who am I, God? Who do You want me to be? Oma said the plans You have are better for us than the ones we make for ourselves. My plans led me into sin and pain and regret and fear. God, I want to become a woman of character and faith. I don’t want to be a selfish, spoiled little girl with nothing to offer. Change me, Lord. Please change me.
Weary, head aching, Dawn leaned her head back against the seat. Pastor Daniel looked at her in the rearview mirror. His eyes crinkled the way they did when he smiled.
Back in Windsor, everyone piled out of the church van and started unloading. Some met up with waiting parents. Dawn had left the Sable in the church parking lot. Running a finger over the dusty trunk, she imagined what Papa would say and decided to go through a car wash on the way home. She stowed her duffel bag. Closing the trunk, she found Pastor Daniel standing by the car. “Thanks for going with us, Dawn.”
“My pleasure.”
“You worked harder than anyone on the team.” He gave her a teasing smile. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”
She gave him a sad smile. “Neither did I.”
Maybe it was a start.
When she pulled into the last space in Mitch’s four-car garage, Christopher bounded out to greet her. Mitch took her duffel bag. He said Mom was manning an open house. “You look worn-out, Pita.”
“I’m exhausted.” Dawn hugged him around the waist. “Thank you for my big, beautiful bedroom and the beautiful home and yard and pool and good food on the table and for loving me even when I’m a pain in the-”
“Wow!” Mitch laughed. “What happened to you?” He put his arm around her shoulders and steered her toward the door into the house. “It’s been my pleasure, Dawn. You look dead on your feet. They must’ve worked you hard in old Mexico. Why don’t you take a nap?” She thanked him and headed down the hall to her room. Mitch called after her, “Forgot to mention it, but you’ll never guess who stopped by my office for a visit.”
“Who?”
“Jason. He stayed more than an hour.”
Just the mention of his name was enough to make Dawn’s heart race. “Did he ask about me?”
“Briefly. He had some questions. He has to make decisions about his future. He’s weighing all his options. He said to say hi.”
Independent study helped keep Dawn’s mind occupied. She didn’t have to worry about facing Jason. She didn’t have friends or class disturbances to distract her. She could fix her mind on the work ahead. Rather than coast by, Dawn dove into her studies. She only had to go to Healdsburg High once a week to check in with the independent studies supervisor, turn in work assignments, and take exams.
All Sharon, Amy, and Pam talked about at youth group was the upcoming prom. Kim and Tom were going together. Steven Dial had asked Pam. Sharon held out hope hunk-of-the-month football fullback Tomás Perez would ask her. Amy worried that if anyone did ask, she wouldn’t be able to afford a dress. Dawn wondered if Jason was going and with whom, but didn’t ask.
Prom came and went, and conversations at youth group turned to finals and graduation, summer jobs and college plans. Half the members were finishing high school. Sharon and Kim were graduating and going to college. Amy’s father had been offered a better job in Dallas. With so many of her friends leaving, Dawn wondered if she’d even attend the CCC youth group next year. She felt out of it, on the edge again, not really part of anything anymore. She didn’t know what was happening on the Healdsburg High campus, nor did she care. What did all that matter, especially now that Jason was going away to college? “Somewhere in Southern California,” Sharon told her. “I just can’t remember which college. And he’s working construction over the summer. Down in San Jose, I think, with a friend of a friend of Pastor Daniel.”
Dawn had the feeling Jason Steward had walked out of her life. Whatever plans God might have for her now clearly did not include him.
She didn’t think her grief could go any deeper until Granny called on a hot August morning and said Papa was dead.
The appalling call about Papa’s death sent Mom into panic mode. They needed to get out to Jenner now. Dawn insisted on going with them. Mitch called the Eckhards and asked if they would keep Christopher. They dropped him off on the way out. Dawn sat in the backseat in a state of shock. When they arrived, they found Granny sitting in the corner chair in the living room. Face white, eyes red, she pointed to the closed French doors to the bedroom. Mom stepped back and bumped into Mitch. He grasped her shoulders and whispered something.
Trembling, Dawn went into the bedroom first. She refused to believe Papa was dead. He apeared to be asleep. She went closer and laid her hand on his forehead. He felt so cold. He wasn’t breathing. She drew in a sharp breath as though to do it for him. She felt warmth behind her. Mitch, standing ready. “He looks peaceful, doesn’t he, honey? He’s with the Lord.” Sobbing, she turned and fell into his arms.
Granny spoke in the living room. “He said he was tired. He gave me a kiss good night. He was snoring when I went to bed. And then when I woke up this morning, it was so quiet.” She cried. “It was too quiet. I knew.”
Mitch ushered Dawn back into the living room. Mom’s face twitched. Her fingers pleated her tiered skirt. Face ashen, wide-eyed, she turned toward the bedroom, but didn’t move. Dawn sat next to her on the couch. They didn’t look at one another. They didn’t touch. Mitch seemed the only one in the room capable of thought. “Have you called anyone, Hildie?”
“I called you.” Granny blew her nose.
Mitch went down on one knee beside her and put his hand over hers. “I mean about his body.”
She jerked. “No. I’m not ready to send him away yet.”
“You’ll be able to say good-bye at his memorial…”
“There’s not going to be a memorial service!” Granny sounded broken, but adamant. Her hand fluttered like a wounded bird. “We don’t know anyone up here.” It had been too far to drive in from Jenner to church on Sundays. She and Papa only made it to Easter cantatas- and one Christmas pageant when Christopher had played a little shepherd boy.
Mom shook, hands clenching her skirt. “You can have the service in Paxtown, Mom.” She spoke in a dull voice. “Mitch can call Rev. Elias.” Her face was shuttered. “Dad was one of his elders. He would want to officiate.”
Granny dabbed her eyes. “Rev. Elias retired five years ago. He and Janice moved up to Silverton, Oregon. I think. I don’t remember. We haven’t even exchanged Christmas cards with them in the last few years.”
“You have friends in Paxtown. The MacPhersons, Dr. Griffith, Doc and Thelma Martin.” Mom’s voice came out flat as she listed names.
Granny glared at her. “As if any of them remember us.”
Mom raised her head, clearly distressed. “Is that my fault?” She sounded as though she thought it might be.
“No! Did I say it was? Did I? Thelma Martin was never my friend.”
“Hildie.” Mitch spoke gently.
Granny cried again. “We had friends, Carolyn. We’ve been gone eight years. Life goes on. People move away. People die.” She started to sob.
Mom stared at Mitch with huge eyes. She was like a frightened little girl, frozen in her seat, afraid to move. Dawn couldn’t bear seeing her like that or Granny crying her heart out. Someone had to do something! She fled into the kitchen, pulled out the telephone directory, and flipped frantically through pages. Scrubbing away tears, she read the number for Cornerstone Covenant Church and punched it into Granny’s ancient phone.
Kim answered. She must be standing in for the church secretary again. Dawn started talking and knew she was making no sense. She started to cry. Pastor Daniel came on the line. “What’s wrong, Dawn?” Fighting down the tears and rising hysteria, she told him her grandfather had died and his body was still in his bed and Granny didn’t want a service and Mitch was going to call the mortuary and have his body taken away and she couldn’t bear the thought of that being the end of him and-
“I’m on my way,” Pastor Daniel interrupted her.
Mitch called the mortuary as soon as she hung up the telephone. Dawn went outside and paced on the deck, watching the road. When she saw Pastor Daniel’s blue Chevy coming, she stood outside the gate. He got out of the car and held her close. “Did he know Christ, Dawn?” She nodded against his shirt, soaking it with her tears. “Then you know where he is right now.”
“It doesn’t help.”
“It will.”
She led him into the house and introduced him to Granny. He sat on her hassock and talked to her. Mom went outside and stood on the deck. Mitch went out and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight against him. Dawn sat on the couch, hands pressed between her knees, not knowing what to do. Jesus. Jesus. That’s all she could think to pray. Just His name over and over again.
“Why don’t you get your mother and stepfather, Dawn?” When they came inside, Pastor Daniel led them all into the bedroom, where they gathered around Papa. Pastor Daniel held Granny’s hand and talked about Jesus’ life and death and resurrection and the promise He made, a promise that would never be broken. Mom kept looking at him. Granny grew calmer as he spoke.
Pastor Daniel stayed until after Papa’s body had been taken away. He had been the one to remember to ask for Papa’s wedding ring. He said he’d come and talk with Granny again if she liked. Would she be staying with the Hastings?
Granny shook her head.
Mitch leaned forward on the couch, one hand still holding Mom’s, the other resting on the arm of the sofa closest to Granny. “Why don’t you come home with us, Hildie?”
“No.” Granny gripped the arms of her corner chair, letting everyone know she wouldn’t be pried from her home. “I’m staying right here.”
“You shouldn’t be alone, Hildie.”
Granny glared at Mitch, a stubborn tilt to her chin. “It’s my home. I’m going to have to get used to being alone, aren’t I?”
Dawn could tell Mitch was exasperated and torn. She knew he would take good care of Mom, who seemed as undone as she had been when Oma died. But Granny shouldn’t be alone. When Pastor Daniel stood, Dawn took his place on the hassock. “I’ll stay.”
Dennis Bingley gave her time off. Over the next week, Dawn cried almost as much as Granny. Instead of sleeping in the blue room, she slept with Granny. Once, while Granny slept in the easy chair, Dawn went downstairs and sat on the bed where she had given herself to Jason. She then cried for other reasons. If she’d followed Jesus instead of her own desires, she wouldn’t be spending the rest of her life living in regret.
On the sixth morning, she awakened when Granny brushed hair back from her face. Granny smiled faintly, head on her own pillow. “You’re a very sweet girl. Do you know that?”
“Are you going to be all right, Granny?”
“Yes. I’ll have to be because you have to go home today.”
Dawn took her hand and held it against the mattress. “I’ll call you every night and come out next weekend.”
“I know you will.” Granny’s hazel eyes filled with tears. “All this is just part of life. Still it feels unexpected. You’ll have to call home for a ride. Maybe your mother will come out and pick you up.” She sounded hopeful.
Mitch came for Dawn. On the way home, he asked how things went. She told him Granny was going to have a hard time, but was too stubborn to talk about moving into town. “How’s Mom doing?”
“She’s bottled up inside again. It’s going to take time. One good thing came out of all this.”
How could anything good come from losing Papa? “What’s that?”
“She asked me to take her to your church this morning.”
1988
Senior year proved grueling as Dawn combined afternoon college courses with her remaining high school requirements. The previous year she had taken one class at Santa Rosa Junior College, and she enjoyed it so much she decided to take two this year. She didn’t have a spare minute for R & R, as Mitch put it, not between commuting to Santa Rosa, attending classes, studying, writing papers, and working twenty hours a week at Java Joe’s. When she did get a weekend off, she often drove out to Jenner and stayed with Granny until Sunday morning, when she’d drive back to attend CCC with Mom, Mitch, and Christopher.
With dismay, but no protest, Mitch had given up his old church. Dawn knew he was glad Mom had finally found a church where she felt comfortable. Christopher couldn’t have been happier now that he could spend even more time with his friend Tim Eckhard. People had welcomed the family with open arms, even Georgia Steward, who came and shook Mitch’s hand and gave Mom a quick hug. She greeted Dawn with cool courtesy.
Kim always made a point of telling Dawn when Jason planned to come home. Dawn didn’t attend services on those Sundays. It wasn’t until Thanksgiving and Dawn’s suggestion that she and Granny go back to Jenner Saturday afternoon that Mom spoke up about it.
“You can’t avoid Jason forever, Dawn.”
When Christmas came around, Mom, Mitch, and Granny ganged up on her and insisted she attend church with the family. She said she would if she could drive her own car.
Jason sat in the third row with his mother. Dawn and her family sat in the middle on the same side. She tried to concentrate on what Pastor Daniel said, but her eyes kept drifting to Jason. He’d cut his hair, had grown a little taller, broader. As soon as the service ended, Dawn stood and made her way toward the exit. Kim stopped her, a perplexed expression on her face when Dawn made a quick excuse, gave her a quick hug, and headed for the door, where Pastor Daniel stood shaking hands.
“Great sermon, Pastor Daniel.” When he offered his hand, she took it. He gripped her hand firmly and asked why she seemed in such a hurry to get out the door. She didn’t dissemble. “You know why. Jason’s here.” He gave her a sad smile and let go.
She didn’t stop until she was safely inside her car, key in the ignition. Jason stood at the door with his mother. When he looked toward her, she started her car, backed out, and put it quickly into gear. She glanced in her rearview mirror one last time before she pulled out onto the street and headed home. Jason stood with all their old friends, home from college.
Her telephone was ringing when she walked into the house. She put her purse on her desk and sat on the bed as her answering machine picked up with her recorded message. “This is Dawn. Sorry I missed your call. Please leave a message at the sound of the beep.” No one spoke. Her heart pounded harder the longer the silence stretched. The answering machine clicked. She breathed again. The phone rang again. The machine picked up. Again, the long silence.
You have nothing to offer Jason.
She hadn’t forgotten what Georgia Steward said or the truth of most of it. She didn’t have anything to offer Jason.
The phone rang again. Sobbing, she put her hands over her ears.
A few days later, Dawn drove Granny home to Jenner by the Sea. “That young man you used to date, Jason what’s-his-name…?”
“Steward.”
“He was at church on Christmas.”
Dawn focused on the road.
Granny studied her. “When you got up and headed out, he never took his eyes off you. I think he was trying to catch up with you, but people kept getting in the way.”
“He has a lot of friends.” Her voice came out with a soft catch in it. She adjusted her sunglasses.
“So do you, Dawn.” Granny spoke quietly and didn’t ask about Jason again.
1989
Mom and Mitch gave her the gift of another mission trip to Mexico. Since she had the equivalent of four years of Spanish classes under her belt, Pastor Daniel lined her up with another church that planned to put on a vacation Bible school in Tijuana. He also thought the preparatory meetings held on Thursday evenings rather than five in the morning on Wednesdays would be an added benefit to her. “Your parents said you’re burning your candle at both ends.”
The work in Mexico felt like a vacation after her grueling school and work schedule at home. And though she loved the children, she knew by the end of Easter week she was not meant to be a teacher. When she shared that conviction, Granny talked about her nursing days.
Fall enrollment at Santa Rosa Junior College rolled around, and Dawn signed up for human anatomy. By midterm, she decided to work toward a bachelor of science degree in nursing. Mom didn’t seem surprised by the idea, saying Granny would be pleased to know Dawn intended to follow in her footsteps. Mitch said Dawn could always do real estate later if nursing didn’t pan out, to which Dawn replied she hoped to finish at the junior college and transfer to a four-year college by the end of the following year. Mom seemed a little taken aback by that announcement. “You’ll be going off to college.”
Mitch leaned down and kissed her. “You’ll still have Christopher around. And me.” He straightened. “With your grades, Dawn, you can go anywhere you want. Why not consider UC Berkeley? It’s not too far from home.”
UCB was a great school, but Dawn knew the competition would devour her. She’d considered UC Santa Cruz, but it had the reputation as a party school. UC Davis was too close, UC San Diego too far away. Her counselor had graduated from Cal Poly, and she spoke highly of it. Dawn researched a dozen colleges, all good, some too expensive. Something had nudged her toward Cal Poly. Maybe it was the location-half a day from home, close to the coast. When people asked why there, her inclination was to ask, “Why not?” She couldn’t really explain.
1990
All Dawn’s old friends came home from college that summer, except Sharon, who had found a job in Santa Rosa and moved into an apartment near the Coddingtown Mall. Dawn caught up with their news after Sunday services. Most had lined up summer jobs at the downtown mall or various businesses in Healdsburg or Windsor. Kim called a few days after coming home from Pepperdine. “We’re going to get together every Wednesday evening. It’ll be better than old times.”
“Who all is coming?”
“Everyone but Jason. He’s off doing some kind of training this summer.”
“I’ll come when I can.” Rather than drive back and forth twice a day to Healdsburg, she had quit the job at Java Joe’s and worked at a coffee shop near the junior college, saving time and gas money.
All the old gang turned up at the Archer house the next Wednesday evening, eager to hang out with old friends. Kim and Tom had become engaged. Amy King had lost twenty-five pounds and added blonde streaks to her brown hair. Steven Dial had shot up six inches and now towered over Dawn.
Kim’s mom stood in the front doorway and announced she was going to have a ladies’ night out with friends from church. “Coffee’s ready, and there’s hot water for any who prefer tea. Lots of cookies. Popcorn for those of you who are worried about your weight, which seems to be just about everyone these days.” She waggled her fingers at Kim. “You’re in charge. If it turns into a wild party, it’ll be your head on the block, not mine. Good night, children.” She closed the door behind her.
Everyone lounged around the living room talking about old times. Two hours passed before they got around to talking about what Bible book to study over summer. Tom Barrett suggested Song of Solomon and earned a round of guffaws and teasing remarks, while Kim reminded him, in hushed tones, they would be going through premarital counseling and could discuss all that some other time.
“Oh, yeah.” Tom groaned loudly. “Like I’m going to feel so at ease talking about sex with your father.”
Kim blushed crimson. “I hadn’t thought about that.”
The unattached of the bunch voted Song of Solomon down and suggested Proverbs. “It’s practical.” Pam grinned. “And God knows, we need practical advice on how to live the Christian life in the midst of a pagan culture.”
“As long as we skip chapter 31.” Kim smirked at Tom, and she added in an aside to Dawn and Pam, “Last thing I need right now is hearing what I have to do to be the perfect wife.”
Grinning, Tom slung an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close. “Come on now, babe. Aren’t you the one who’s been telling me all Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training…” He let out a yelp. “She pinched me!”
While the others laughed, Steven paged through his Bible. “We don’t have time to finish all this.”
Amy reached into a bowl of popcorn. “How about Philippians? Only four chapters and lots of encouraging words.” They put it to a quick vote and settled it.
Lying in bed that night, Dawn thought about all the steps she had taken over the past three years to grow closer to the Lord. Even though she knew she didn’t have a future with Jason, she still harbored a dream of being a wife and mother, God willing. She hadn’t considered God would have a definition for the perfect wife. Pushing the covers aside, she turned on the desk light and opened her Bible. She felt depressed after reading Proverbs 31. How could any woman be all those things? Of course, it had taken the woman time. Her children were old enough to call their mother blessed, and her husband had gained enough standing in the community to be respected as a leader, and she managed servants.
Dawn covered her face. Lord, I’ve worked so hard to become better, to become someone who could be a proper helpmate to a godly man. I know I was all wrong in the way I pursued Jason. Is it too much to hope that even so, You might have a husband and children in store for me someday?
I love you. The answer came from the depths of her. Nothing was ever wasted, not even the damage she had done. Hadn’t shame and guilt sent her down a new path?
I’ll never be perfect, Lord. I’ll never be good enough for someone like Jason.
My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.
Slipping the leather journal Oma had given her from the top drawer, Dawn wrote: How to Be a Good Wife. But as she wrote, she searched for traits that would please God rather than a man.
Pam called and asked Dawn if she’d like to get together. “We could do a little shopping and then go to Bakers Square for pie.” Dawn knew something was up. Pam hated to shop. She suggested possible days and times, and they set a date to meet at the entrance of Ross Dress for Less.
Spotting her friend coming across the parking lot, Dawn laughed. Pam looked like she had an appointment for a root canal rather than an afternoon of shopping. “What are we looking for, Pam?”
“I don’t know. You’re the one who always loved to shop.” Pam shrugged and stood outside the store. “I need your help. You always look like a fashion model, so put-together. I sort of agreed to a date with Steven.”
“What sort of date?” Dawn knew they’d gone to their high school prom together as friends, but she hadn’t noticed anything more between them.
“Dinner.”
“Sounds serious.”
“Oh, shut up. I wish I’d never…”
Dawn took her by the arm and pulled her through the front doors. “Did he say where you’re going?”
“How would I know? I mean, he could’ve meant he was taking me to Taco Bell. Something casual, I guess.” She looked around, her expression one of panic.
“You could’ve asked him where he plans to take you.”
“I did! All he’d say is it would take us an hour to get there.”
“Well, then it’s not Taco Bell. Someplace nice, probably. No jeans. No T-shirt.”
Pam rolled her eyes. “Just shoot me now.”
Dawn laughed. “Relax. This is going to be fun!” She started pulling things off racks. “Start with these. The dressing room is back there.” She pointed. “I’m going to keep looking. I’ll be there before you have the first outfit on.”
Holding half a dozen garments on hangers, Pam looked baffled. “What outfit?”
“This skirt, this top. Now go!”
After a few changes, Pam grumbled. One hand behind her head and the other on her hip, she struck a pose. “How about this one?”
“Not bad, but not all that great either. Take it off. Try these.” She hung more garment possibilities on the hook and took the discards. After an hour, Pam had had enough of being a model and pleaded for an end to the torture. Dawn pointed. “The black skirt and tunic with the red belt. It looks great on you. What about shoes?”
“Shoes?” Pam sounded horrified.
Ignoring further protest, Dawn thrust the favored garments into her friend’s arms, grabbed the others, and handed them over to the attendant on the way out of the dressing rooms. Dawn ushered Pam to the racks of shoes. She pointed out several pairs that would look nice. Pam found reasons not to try them on-too high, too red, too fancy, “You have got to be kidding me. No way!” When Pam picked up a pair of purple sneakers, Dawn grabbed them and shoved them back on the shelf. Pam reached for them again, and Dawn slapped her hand. They both laughed like little girls and finally settled on a pair of black slip-ons with two-inch heels.
“Boring, but serviceable.” Dawn shook her head in dismay. “Do you have new nylons?”
Pam seemed to shrink. “I’ll get them on the way home. I promise!”
They went to Bakers Square and sat in a booth by the front windows. Pam ordered apple pie à la mode, Dawn, caramel pecan silk supreme. They lingered and talked about college. Pam attended Arizona State and had declared a physical education major.
“How many applications have you sent out?”
Dawn debated whether to say anything. “One.”
“One? You know what they say about putting all your eggs in one basket. Which college?”
“Cal Poly.”
“Why there? I thought it was an engineering college.”
“High rep for technology and sciences. I’ll be in the nursing program.”
“Is that where Jason went?”
“Jason?” Dawn’s heart turned over.
“Jason Steward.” Pam gave her a wry smile. “Don’t pretend you’ve forgotten him.”
“No, but I thought he went to UCLA.”
“He applied, but didn’t qualify for a scholarship.”
“Oh.” Pinched by guilt, Dawn winced.
Pam frowned. “I can’t remember where he went. He doesn’t come home very often.” She shrugged. “San Diego, maybe.” She moved on to other subjects.
Jason Steward. Dawn’s mind drifted into a vortex of bittersweet memories. Sending up a quick prayer, she asked God’s blessing on him and let him go.
Mom and Mitch sat Dawn down and told her they intended to pay for her last two years of college. The first two years hadn’t cost them anything, and they’d set aside money that would enable her to concentrate on school instead of having to work a part-time job. When she argued, Mitch turned adamant. “You’ve done nothing but study and work the last three years, Dawn. You have no life.”
“I go to church. I go to the college group.”
“Two hours a week.”
“Everyone works. You work; Mom works.”
“You’re nineteen. You should have a little time to enjoy life.”
Mitch handed her a checkbook and told her how much would be deposited each month-enough for tuition, books, and a studio apartment. He also handed over a credit card and gave her a limit, plenty for living expenses like food and gas. She’d even have enough to pay for car insurance.
Stunned, Dawn felt the tears coming. “You don’t have to do this, Mitch.”
Mitch’s mouth tipped. “I’m not, Pita. It’s all your mother’s doing.”
Mom shook her head. “Don’t, Mitch.”
He ignored her. “She’s been banking her commissions since we married just so she could give you this gift. If you say no, I swear I’ll turn you over my knee.”
“Mom… I…”
Mom shrugged. “I didn’t get to give you a car.”
Dawn’s smile trembled. “This is a whole lot more than a car.”
“It hurts to see you work so hard to…” Mom stood abruptly and went to the kitchen counter, where she picked up some papers. “You’ll need to find a place soon. I have a list of apartment complexes that offer furnished studios.” She put them on the table. “The ones closest to campus are highlighted. You’ll have to stay in a hotel while you’re looking. I have a list of those as well.” She stood, hands gripping the back of a chair. “You’re going to be on your own.” Her eyes filled.
“She’ll be coming home for vacations.” Mitch put his arm around Dawn’s shoulders. “Won’t you?”
It sounded more a command than a question. “Yes.” She looked at her mother. “And you’ll come down, too, I hope.”
Dawn drove to San Luis Obispo the beginning of August. She listened to the radio on the drive, music interspersed with news reports of the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait, and the first U.S. troops being deployed to Saudi Arabia. Mitch had told her many high-ranking U.S. military officers were veterans of Vietnam. This war would be swift and decisive. Dawn thought of the uncle she had never met who died in Vietnam, and she turned off the radio.
The skies were clear that afternoon and cloudy the next morning when she arose. She left her things at Motel 6 and headed out to find a furnished studio apartment close to campus for a price she was willing to pay. She didn’t want to blow through her mother’s gift like found money, but use it wisely.
After three days, she signed a rental agreement with Bishop Peak Apartments. Her studio had a kitchenette with a small table and two chairs. The living room and bedroom were divided by an accordion partition. On one side was a sofa, one chair, a coffee table, and a hanging lamp, and on the other a full-size bed with two simple side tables and two cheap lamps. After her designer-decorated bedroom in Alexander Valley, it seemed drab, but she reminded herself of Mexico and felt thankful.
As soon as the phone service had been turned on, she called Mom with the new number. Then she called Granny and talked about the trip down, the hunt for an apartment, what she had seen of the town. “I’m going to try one of the churches tomorrow.”
“You sound lonely, honey.”
“A little, I guess. I’ll get used to being on my own.”
Over the next few days, Dawn took long walks around campus, familiarizing herself with its main buildings, the library, the dining complex. Hills dotted with oaks rose around campus with Bishop Peak in the distance. Sitting on a bench, Dawn watched others pass by. Was she really hearing God’s voice about Cal Poly? Or had she come three hundred miles from home on some sort of delusion?
Once Dawn knew her way around the campus, she took drives to the Pacific beaches, coastal dunes, ridges, forests, and nearby lakes. She spent an afternoon at the mission, wandering through the garden with its fountain and statue of Father Junípero Serra and sitting in the chapel praying God would lead her in the days ahead.
She met with Mrs. Townsend, a college counselor, who helped her plan out schedules to earn her degree as quickly as possible. Mrs. Townsend looked dubious. “If you find what we’ve laid out too ambitious, you can drop a course.”
Classes started, and the first weeks felt like a grueling marathon of lectures, reading, studying. A throng of students moved from building to building. Dawn felt overwhelmed by the numbers. SRJC had nearly as many students, but somehow it had felt smaller to her, less intense.
She hated studying in her drab apartment and started going to the Robert Kennedy Library instead. She preferred the smell of books, the soft sound of footsteps and hushed voices, to the silence in her studio or someone partying nearby. She felt more at home in the stacks than in her flat.
Around lunchtime one day in the library, her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Glancing at her wristwatch, she saw she had less than an hour before chemistry class. She didn’t have time to run to the dining complex and stand in line for a full meal. The eggs and toast she’d eaten for breakfast wouldn’t carry her through the whole day.
Gathering her notes, textbook, and purse, she headed for the library café. Better a cup of coffee and pastry than nothing.
She’d just finished a blueberry scone and half her coffee when Jason Steward walked in. Dawn’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach.
She stared, trying to calm the tumble of emotions. Jason was even more handsome than she remembered. Short hair suited him. He looked tan and fit, taller and broader through the shoulders. He was with two other young men and a pretty girl with shoulder-length dark hair and a bright, sunny smile. Was she his girlfriend? A sharp stab of pain went through her heart. She thought she’d gotten over him.
As the four made their selections, paid, got their coffee, and sat across the room, Dawn drank in the sight of him. He talked easily, laughing at something one of the boys said. He pulled out the chair for the girl. He sat with his back to Dawn, but one of his friends noticed her and smiled. She’d seen that same smile on a dozen other male faces in the last few weeks. It usually predicated an attempt to start a conversation or ask her out. Dawn averted her eyes so he wouldn’t be encouraged.
A few seconds later, she glanced over again and found Jason half turned in his chair, staring at her. Surprise didn’t begin to describe the expression on his face. A flood of feelings swept over Dawn. Her smile felt stiff, her insides like Jell-O. When Jason scraped his chair back, she went hot and cold all over. He said something to the others and rose. The girl looked past him to Dawn.
Breathing in slowly, trying to slow her rapid-fire heartbeat, Dawn watched Jason cross the room. She offered a tremulous smile. He didn’t seem happy to see her. He stood at her table, hands gripping the back of the chair. “What are you doing here?”
Why did he sound angry? He’d been the one to initiate their breakup. “I’m having coffee.”
“I don’t mean that. I mean here, on campus.”
“I’m a student.”
“A student?” He frowned.
“I’m in the nursing program.”
Emotion flickered, and then his mouth flattened. “You could’ve gone anywhere.” His hazel eyes cooled.
His last telephone message came back to her so clearly. She remembered pressing the button and hearing his voice. “I love you, Dawn. I’ll love you forever.” Pain lanced through her. She’d listened to that message over and over, for days, weeks, before she finally surrendered to God and erased it. Jesus, where is Your purpose in this? If she’d known Jason was attending Cal Poly, she never would have applied. She didn’t know what to say to him now, so she resorted to the mundane. “It’s good to see you again, Jason.” She spoke as though they had been mere acquaintances, not lovers.
“Really.” He sounded doubtful.
She blinked, wishing her heart would slow down. “How are you?”
“Fine.” He mocked her. “I’m doing great.” He nodded toward his friends at the other table, the girl watching their exchange. He didn’t ask Dawn if she wanted to be introduced. The dark-haired girl gave her a curious smile. Jason moved enough to block her from view. Dawn could feel his animosity.
“It took me a long time to get over you, Dawn. I don’t even know why I’m talking to you.”
What could she say to that? She’d never gotten over him, never would. She hadn’t realized that fully until now. Oh, Lord, why? Lowering her eyes, she put her hands around the cooling cup of coffee. She didn’t know what to say.
“You’re wearing the bracelet I gave you.”
She glanced at the gold chain with the delicate heart and glistening pearl. “I’ve never taken it off.”
He looked as though she’d punched him in the stomach. “I don’t get it.”
“Get what?”
“I called, Dawn. You never called back. I left you a message. I never heard a word from you. Not one. You want to explain?”
“You know why, Jason.”
“Yeah, right.” He sneered. “Why don’t you enlighten me?”
She hadn’t planned on a public confession, but she didn’t feel like being a silent martyr. “We went too far, Jason. It was always going to be all or nothing with us. And it was all sin three years ago.” Her eyes burned. “I…” She had to swallow before she could confess more. “I wanted to get right with God.”
Jason studied her face and then turned his back and walked away. Suffocating with pain, Dawn watched him sit with his friends. Was he telling them who she was, what they had once been to each other, what he thought of her now? The dark-haired girl leaned back and looked at her again. One of the guys looked, too, scraped his chair back, and got up until Jason said something that made him sit down again.
Why was she still sitting here, torturing herself with regret and shame? She couldn’t change the past. She couldn’t undo what she had done. She had no control over what Jason thought about her now.
Gathering her things, Dawn threw away the cup and crumpled napkin and left the café. Her throat burned with tears as she hurried down the steps and along the walkway away from the library.
Oh, God, I must’ve misunderstood. Why did I come here? This is the last place I should be. Oh, Lord, the look on his face… I thought I was over him. She brushed tears away and kept walking. You are my first love, Jesus, my forever love. But it hurts, Lord. I wish You had arms to hold me.
She headed for her chemistry class.
Dawn continued studying in the library every afternoon, but didn’t go back to the café. She got up early every morning and sat at her nook window, with the sun coming in, and read her Bible. Sometimes she felt she was walking in the valley of the shadow of death, her heart trembling and broken. She feared running into Jason. She couldn’t bear to see the coldness in his eyes.
Studying held off the pain. She’d pushed herself through class after class for three years. She would do it again. Surely God had a purpose in all this. She prayed constantly. Sometimes she talked aloud to Him when she sat alone in her apartment. What do You want me to do with the rest of my life? She could never be the Proverbs 31 wife. Maybe God intended her for the mission field. There must be dozens of organizations who needed nurses. Maybe she’d serve on an Indian reservation or in Africa or the Far East. Someplace far away, Lord, at the ends of the earth.
Every night, she dreamed of Jason. Every morning, she woke up and cried. She begged God to stop the dreams.
Day after day, she set her mind on attending classes, taking notes, completing assignments to the best of her ability. God had a plan for her. She would trust God to work it all out.
She thought of Oma and how she had said she had made plans of her own and then found God had made better ones for her. She searched for God’s promises and wrote them in the leather-bound journal Oma had given her.
I have loved you, my people, with an everlasting love. With unfailing love I have drawn you to myself… I know the plans I have for you… plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.
I want to believe You, Lord. Help me believe.
Eventually, she found a church similar to CCC and finally felt at home, comforted among the flock of believers, less vulnerable than when she was by herself battling loneliness and loss. The second week she attended, she spotted Jason in the third row. She would have left if the service hadn’t already started.
God, why are You doing this to me?
When the pastor called for prayer, Jason didn’t just bow his head; he hunched over. Dawn felt grateful. She’d stolen his innocence, but at least she hadn’t destroyed his faith. When the congregation rose to sing, Jason stood taller than the others around him. He looked like a soldier, shoulders back, head up. Throat tight, Dawn mouthed the praise songs, unable to make a sound.
The service ended. She thought about heading quickly for the door, but Jason rose and started down the aisle. Afraid he’d see her, she kept her head turned away as he made his way toward the doors. Departing parishioners greeted him, drawing him into conversation. She leaned down as though to get her purse as he passed by and then sat up and watched him go out the door.
The sanctuary emptied. The praise band stowed their instruments. Dawn rose. She’d try another church next Sunday. Or maybe she’d just stay home and read her Bible.
Monday, Dawn dragged herself out of bed and did her morning Bible reading. She barely made it to her anatomy class and had to struggle to keep her eyes open. She downed a cup of coffee before she went to her nursing history course, then went to the dining complex for a slice of pizza at BackStage. She had two hours before her next class, enough time to study in the library.
After an hour, she felt drained. She massaged her forehead, wishing the coffee had helped the headache. She’d lived in San Luis Obispo two whole months; it felt like ten years. She didn’t know if she could stay here. Maybe she should transfer. Maybe it had been a mistake coming here, even though she had felt certain God had been directing her. She hadn’t expected more pain, more sleepless nights, more confusion. If she transferred, she wouldn’t face the risk of seeing Jason every day. She might have a chance to see what God wanted her to do.
Someone pulled out a chair and sat opposite her. She didn’t feel like sharing her space. Gathering her notes, she tucked them quickly into a folder. She leaned over for her backpack.
“I’ve been trying to find you.”
Her heart lurched to a stop and then raced.
Jason folded his arms on the table. “How are you doing?”
Why now, Lord? I don’t know what You want from me anymore. She gave Jason a bleak smile. “I’m managing.” All the old attraction swam through her blood as he looked her over.
Standing, she lifted her backpack onto the table and began putting her books away.
“You look tired, Dawn.”
“I haven’t been sleeping very well.”
“Neither have I.” He leaned forward, keeping his voice low. “Do you want to go somewhere? talk?”
She recognized the glint in his eyes and went hot all over. She remembered all too well how it had been between them. Reason enough to withdraw. Now. “I have a chemistry class.”
“I joined the Army.”
“Very funny, Jason.”
Jason caught hold of her arm and pulled her to a stop. “I joined the Army, Dawn.” When she pulled back, his hand slid away. “They’re paying for my education. When I finish, I’ll be on active service for six years.”
Dawn went cold with guilt. “And it’s my fault.” She thought of Iraq and Kuwait and the young men being deployed. Mitch had told her things would heat up before it was over. What would that mean for Jason? Would he finish college and end up shipped off to a war? All because she’d distracted him from his studies and he couldn’t get a scholarship? Georgia Steward had every right to hate her. “I’m sorry, Jason.” An apology would never be enough. Her eyes blurred with tears. “I’m so sorry.” She stepped back. “I was the worst thing that ever happened to you.” She turned away.
Jason caught hold of her again. “Will you just wait a minute?”
She wrenched free. “You had everything planned out before I messed things up. You’d be at Berkeley on scholarship right now if we hadn’t…” Unable to say more, she spun from him and wove quickly into the throng of students, half-running.
Chemistry class passed in a blur. She took notes, trying to make sense of things, but she kept thinking about Jason’s announcement. The Army! He’d wanted to be an engineer or a Christian businessman-or maybe even a pastor. Now he’d be a soldier building bridges or roads into some godforsaken battle zone. What a mess she’d made!
Dawn emerged from class and saw Jason leaning against the wall. Pushing away, he caught up with her. “We need to talk.”
“I think your first instincts three years ago were right on, Jason. We need to let things go.”
“Please, Dawn.” He took her hand and pressed it flat against his chest. She felt his heart pounding hard and fast. He leaned closer. “I could barely catch my breath when I saw you sitting in the café. It’s not over, Dawn. It’s never going to be over between us.”
Her body filled with sensations. Unthinking, she stepped forward and slid her arms around his waist. As she pressed herself against him, she heard him suck in his breath. He put his arms around her and let it out again, slowly. “I love you, Dawn. I’ll love you forever.” Dawn felt the heat of his hand press against the small of her back. His breath was ragged. “Are you finished with classes for the day?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s find someplace to be alone and talk. I have a couple of roommates. What about you?” When he stepped back, she watched his eyes go dark the same way they had every time she came to the trailer while his mother had been away working. That look had intoxicated her then. It still sent curling heat into the pit of her stomach and down her legs.
“I live alone.” She could feel the heat coming off him at that, or was it her?
“It’s been too long, Dawn.” Jason took her hand. “Let’s go.”
The Spirit within Dawn warned her. Alert to Him after three years of walking close, she listened and obeyed. “No.” She pulled her hand free and didn’t move from where they stood. “We can’t be alone, not with our history.” And not with the way she was feeling right then. If they were alone and he touched her, she’d forget all about what God wanted of her. Three years had obviously changed Jason. She had to find out how much.
He didn’t pretend not to understand. Running his hands down her arms, he gave her a slow smile that melted her insides. “Okay. We’ll set rules. Kissing, but no petting, no-”
Dawn shook her head. “I’m not strong enough, Jason, and I’m not willing to go down that road again.”
Jason let out a shuddering breath. “Okay.” He took her hand and wove his fingers through hers. “Make a suggestion.”
“Someplace public, so we’ll have to behave ourselves.”
He laughed. “Then I guess it’s going to be the Dexter Lawn.” When he smiled at her this time, he looked like the Jason she remembered.
Every morning, Dawn and Jason met on the Dexter Lawn after he finished ROTC classes. They met on the walkways between classes and at the dining complex for lunch. They talked on the telephone every night until they couldn’t keep their eyes open.
Jason introduced her to his friends: Dod Henson, Jack Kohl, and Alice Jeffries, the pretty, dark-haired girl who turned out to be Dod’s girl. None were Christians and they seemed surprised to find out Jason was. “When did that happen?” Dod wanted to know, and Jason said a long time ago, but he just hadn’t been walking with the Lord lately. He’d been ticked at God and hadn’t felt like talking to Him. He laughed when he said it, grimacing in self-mockery. They all went into town and talked over Chinese food or hamburgers. On Saturdays, Dawn and Jason studied in the library. On Sunday mornings, they went to church together.
A month passed like a Santana wind, and Jason wanted to do something special to celebrate their “anniversary.” Dawn suggested a Sunday afternoon picnic on the beach and brought homemade fried chicken, potato salad, and fresh-baked cookies. They ate at a table, with the wind blowing cold off the ocean, and stowed the leftovers in the backseat of his white Honda. Throwing a blanket over his shoulder, Jason took her hand and said he wanted to walk awhile. He found a cove shielded from the wind and spread the blanket so they could sit and watch the waves.
Dawn talked about the sermon they’d heard that morning and raised questions. Jason’s answers seemed more seasoned with life than they had when he was seventeen. Shivering, Dawn wrapped her arms around her raised knees and told Jason about the day she’d seen him sitting near the front of the church. “You came in late. I watched you pray.”
Jason stretched on his back, arms behind his head. “That was the first time I’d been to church since moving down here.”
Dawn stared at him in surprise. “Kim said you were in church every time you came home.”
“Yeah,” he drawled. “Because Mom insisted.” He frowned. “Is that why you weren’t there? Because I was?”
She looked out at the ocean. Seagulls dipped and floated on the wind. “It hurt to see you.”
Jason’s hand curved around her hip. “I didn’t feel much like seeing Pastor Daniel after that surprise fishing trip he and Mom pulled on me.”
“What’d Pastor Daniel say to you that weekend?”
Jason grimaced. “That a man protects those he loves, and I was putting you at risk. I won’t go into the gory details, but Daniel told me what I thought of as protection wasn’t what God had in mind. I knew he was right, which was the problem, of course. I just didn’t want to hear it. I figured you’d be upset when I wasn’t there, but-”
“Your mom was there.”
“Well, I know, but I’m sure you and she didn’t have much to talk about. ”
“Oh, your mom had a few things to say.”
“What?” He exploded to his feet and raked his hands through his hair. “I asked you what the two of you talked about, and you said nothing! Now you’re telling me she said something to you? Did she say something that made you build such a wall between us?”
Dawn had had three years to think over what Georgia Steward had said that day. “She told me the truth.”
“I’ll bet she did.” His eyes darkened. “Her version of it.” He swore.
“Sit down, Jason. Please.”
He did, body tense, jaw clenching, fists against the sand. “Like my mother has any right to cast stones. She had me out of wedlock, remember?”
“Yes, so who better to recognize the danger we were putting ourselves in? Your mom spoke God’s truth, Jason. And the Lord used her words to open my eyes to what He wanted. I see that as a great kindness. We both owe Pastor Daniel and your mother a debt of gratitude.”
“You think so? What about the pain they caused?”
“Pain builds character, and they didn’t cause it. We did that to ourselves. I knew what I was doing that night at Jenner. I wanted you. That’s all I cared about. Not how I went about getting you or what the price might be. Sin always has consequences. When I look back now, I see God’s mercy in the way it all turned out.”
Jason’s eyes softened. “You’re not the girl you were, Dawn.”
“I hope not.”
“God got hold of you.” Jason pulled her down on top of him. “But I want to hold you, too.” He dug his fingers into her hair and kissed her the way he used to when they were alone in his bedroom. “You still taste like heaven.” Rolling her onto her back, he kissed her again. “Will you marry me?”
Dawn smiled and brushed some sand off his sweater. “I think you already know the answer. Of course I will.”
Joy and then determination filled his face. “We’ll get married during Christmas break.”
She laughed. “Thanksgiving is only ten days away.”
“I know, and I wasn’t planning to go home until now.”
“You mean it!”
“Yes. I mean it.” He stood, pulling her up with him. “Now we’ll go home together, in my car. I’m calling my mother tonight, so she’ll have fair warning. And then I’m calling Pastor Daniel and finding out what day he has open for a wedding.” He shook out the blanket. “You’d better call your folks before they hear from someone else.”
Dawn tried to catch her breath. “They’ll probably suggest we wait until we graduate.”
“That’s not for another two years-or maybe even three. I don’t think either one of us can wait that long.” Jason stopped folding the blanket. “Say something.” He frowned. “You don’t want to wait, do you?”
“No.” Joy bubbled up inside her. God had given her the desire of her heart. She laughed. “No, Jason, I don’t want to wait.” She threw herself into his arms.
Jason said his mother didn’t have a lot to say about them getting married. Pastor Daniel said he’d check his calendar and they could talk when Jason and Dawn came home for Thanksgiving. Expecting resistance, Jason rehearsed arguments on the long drive north. Despite her fears, Dawn counseled him to listen and not storm in the front door of the trailer half-cocked for a gunfight. “Your mom and Pastor Daniel love you, Jason. They want the best for you.”
He glanced at her. “This is about us, Dawn, not me.” He frowned. “You haven’t said much about your folks’ reaction. If Mitch and your mom say wait, are you going to listen?”
“I’m going to hear them out without interrupting.” She shoved her hands under her thighs. “This isn’t about what makes us happy, Jason. It’s about God. Let’s try to focus on what will make Him happy. Okay? You told me a long time ago the Lord knows better than any of us.”
Jason cast an apologetic smile. “I guess I needed the reminder.”
When he dropped her off, Mitch and Mom came out to welcome them. Eleven-year-old Christopher darted out and hugged Dawn, telling her how much he’d missed her and she was getting married and did that mean Jason would move in with them for the summer and why didn’t Jason come in and see the city he’d built with his LEGOs. They all laughed. Jason was clearly relieved by the warm greeting.
Mom threw cold water on both of them with an announcement. “Jason, you and your mom are having Thanksgiving dinner with us.” She looked at Dawn. “And Granny’s coming, too, of course. She called me right after you called her about your engagement.”
Dawn winced inwardly. No wonder her mother had been so quiet when Dawn called with the news she and Jason wanted to get married.
Dawn answered the door when Jason and his mom arrived. Georgia Steward’s smile was tense as Dawn ushered them into the house. As his mother walked ahead, Jason stole a kiss from Dawn. Mitch and Mom greeted them in the family room, offering sparkling cider and appetizers. Mitch made a toast. Granny chattered happily, eager to help plan the nuptials. “We’ll have to work fast if we’re going to pull everything together before Christmas. Dawn will need a wedding gown. We’ll have to find a photographer, order flowers and engraved invitations.”
Pensive and silent, Mom went into the kitchen. Georgia followed, asking if she could help.
Jason took Dawn’s hand. “Can we take a walk in the garden?”
Out of view of the windows, Jason took her in his arms and kissed her. “You look like a deer in the headlights.”
“A gown, wedding invitations, photographer, flowers…”
“I didn’t stop to ask what kind of wedding you want. Something big and white, I guess.”
“I think Granny is dreaming about all that because she and Papa didn’t have it. And she didn’t get to put on a big wedding for my mom, either.”
“What do you want?”
“You!”
“You’ve got me.” He kissed her again, pressing her to him. He raised his mouth, then whispered against her ear. “Maybe we should save everyone the trouble and elope.”
Conversation didn’t lull around the dinner table. Even Georgia seemed loquacious when Mitch asked about her business. Booming, she said. She’d hired two more maids over the past two months and was on the lookout for another. Christopher barely spoke, too busy stuffing himself with turkey and dressing. Mom said she and Georgia would work out some of the details regarding the wedding. “We just have to know what you two have in mind.”
“Something simple.” Dawn’s smile wobbled. “Close friends and family.”
“What about flowers?” Georgia lifted her glass of sparkling cider to sip and peered at her over the rim.
“Poinsettias.” They could be left in the church to decorate through Christmas.
Georgia set her glass down carefully. “What about your bouquet?”
“Gardenias smell wonderful,” Granny volunteered. “And roses… or white orchids…”
“I want to carry five long-stemmed white roses.”
Granny looked surprised and then disheartened. “That’s not a bridal bouquet, Dawn.”
“Maybe not.” Dawn leaned over and kissed Granny’s cheek to take away any sting of disappointment. “But it’s what I want.”
Pastor Daniel sat behind his desk when Jason ushered Dawn into the office Friday morning. They held hands as they sat on the couch in front of him. “You two act like you’re facing a firing squad instead of coming in to talk about a wedding.”
Jason sat straight and tall, poised for a fight. “Don’t try to shoot us down. We want to get married as soon as possible.”
It occurred to Dawn what Pastor Daniel might think about hasty wedding plans. “I’m not pregnant, Pastor Daniel.”
Jason shot her a glance. His hand tightened around hers as he faced their pastor again. “And we’re not sleeping together either, nor will we until we’re married.”
Pastor Daniel blushed. “Wow! Last time we talked, Jason, I must’ve come across as judge and jury. I hope you’ll both forgive me.”
Dawn smiled. “We do. You were right. I’m thankful that God gave us enough time to realize that for ourselves. Not to mention a second chance.” She turned her smile on Jason.
Jason’s hand loosened. “You said something about a premarital Bible study.” He had said on the way home he thought Pastor Daniel or his mother might come up with some sort of delaying tactic.
Pastor Daniel lifted two workbooks and put them on the front of his desk. “These are for you two to take back to Cal Poly.” Leaning forward, he folded his hands on the desk. “There’s lots of Scripture to read and things to ponder together. The intent is for you to be forewarned so you’ll be able to work through problems that will come up in the course of your marriage, not just in the first year, but in the years to come.”
Pastor Daniel smiled warmly at Dawn. “I’ve watched your relationship with Jesus grow over the last three years.” His expression turned grim when he shifted his focus to Jason. “I’m not so sure about you. Still wandering in the wilderness?”
“Not anymore. I’m back in church and I plan to stay.” Jason let go of Dawn’s hand and leaned forward to take the workbooks. “Thanks, Daniel.” Smiling, he relaxed on the sofa.
“I hoped it would all work out this way.”
“Did you?” Jason sounded dubious.
“What do you say we take a bike ride tomorrow? Talk a little more.”
Jason agreed.
Leaning back in his chair, Pastor Daniel gave them a smug smile. “You’ll be the first couple to meet and marry in our church. December is a nice month for a wedding.”
Dawn laughed. “What about Kim and Tom?”
Pastor Daniel chuckled. “Ah, but they’re not getting married until June. We’ll tie your knot on December 21.”
When Dawn got home, a light blinked on her answering machine. She pressed the button, thinking it might be Kim or Pam or one of her other friends. Instead, she heard Georgia Steward’s invitation to the trailer for coffee Saturday afternoon at three. “We have a few things to settle between us, Dawn.” Her voice sounded cool and detached. “If three isn’t convenient, please call so we can set another time.”
Dawn sank onto her bed. What would Jason’s mother say to her this time? Was she afraid this marriage would ruin his chances of getting through college? that Dawn might get in the way again? that she might be pregnant?
Dawn wanted to call and make some excuse not to go. How could she face Georgia again, after all that had been said the last time? God, help me. What do I do?
Reason took hold. Georgia Steward would be her mother-in-law in a few weeks. She deserved respect and consideration. Georgia might not like her, but for Jason’s sake they needed to make some kind of peace. Dawn didn’t want to become a stumbling block between mother and son. She prayed about it all afternoon.
Jason called that night. When he didn’t mention his mother’s invitation, Dawn knew Georgia hadn’t told him. That did not bode well.
Jason said he had a great idea for their honeymoon. They’d have only a few days before they needed to come back for a family Christmas. “It won’t be the Ritz, but I think you’ll like it.” He wanted it to be a surprise.
“I’ll love it, wherever it is.”
Unable to sleep, Dawn sat at her desk, reading her Bible until well after midnight.
She covered her face and prayed for Georgia’s heart to soften toward her. When she finally went to bed, she dreamed she wore a scarlet wedding dress, and Georgia, dressed in black, wept in the front row.
Dawn’s insides quivered as she parked her Sable behind Georgia’s van. Mrs. Edwards peered through her living room curtains. Georgia opened the door, leaned out to wave to her neighbor, and then beckoned Dawn inside. Blushing, Dawn went up the steps onto the small porch. One glance over her shoulder confirmed Mrs. Edwards still waited with bated breath to witness the outcome of this meeting between Georgia and the girl who had seduced Jason.
A small potted plant sat on the table where Dawn and Jason used to spread their books out before going into his bedroom. Georgia moved tensely about the kitchen. Dawn pressed her damp palms on her dark skirt.
“Do you like coffee, Dawn, or would you prefer tea?”
“Whatever you’re having will be fine, ma’am.”
Georgia gave a sharp laugh. “Ma’am makes me feel like a nasty old woman. Call me Georgia. I’m a coffee drinker. Do you like cream or sugar?”
“Nothing, thank you.”
Georgia carried a wooden tray with saucers and cups of coffee and a plate of homemade chocolate chip cookies into the living room and set it on the low table. “Sit down. You’re making me nervous.” She waved her hand toward the sofa. “We both know we have to have this conversation. We might as well get it over with, don’t you think?”
Dawn took her coffee. The cup rattled in the saucer. Mortified, she set them on the table before she could spill coffee all over the beige rug.
Georgia cleared her throat softly. “This is difficult for both of us, Dawn. I wanted to talk with you alone and try to clear up a few things.” Georgia closed her eyes for a moment and released a slow breath before she looked at Dawn again. “I said awful things to you the last time you were here.” She turned her face away. “Afterward, I knew I’d jeopardized my relationship with my son. You had the power to make Jason hate me.”
“I didn’t tell him anything about that day.”
“Oh, honey, I know you didn’t. He asked me after the two of you broke up if I’d ever spoken to you. I asked if you’d said I had-implying, of course, I hadn’t. He said you’d pulled out of school and wouldn’t return his calls.”
Georgia gripped her saucer and stared into the cup for a moment. “When Jason said you two should stop seeing each other for a while, he meant a few weeks. But you backed out of his life entirely. I watched him suffer. I heard him sobbing one night. A few days later, he put his fist through the wall. And I watched you suffer, too.”
“I couldn’t…” Dawn pressed her trembling lips together and tried again. “I knew if we saw each other, we’d go right back-”
Georgia held up her hand. “I’m not finished, Dawn. Please, let me finish.” She drew in a breath, her mouth working. When she regained control, she spoke quietly. “I watched you. I listened to everything people said about you. For three years. You sat in church and soaked in every word Daniel said. I heard how well you were doing in independent study-high grades, taking college courses while you finished high school. You went on mission trips. Daniel said he’d never seen God work in a person’s life the way the Lord worked in yours. You fixed your eyes on Jesus and never looked away. But while I watched your faith grow, I saw Jason struggling. When I heard you’d transferred to Cal Poly, I prayed harder than I ever had in my life.”
Dawn hung her head. She could imagine how hard Georgia Steward had prayed. She must have assumed the girl who’d caused her son so much grief had gone after him again.
Georgia’s eyes glistened. “Jason thanked me the other day. When I asked him what for, he said you told him I’d been kind to you.” She smiled bleakly. “He apologized for assuming I’d said the same things to you that I’d been saying about you for weeks before that last fiasco.” She shook her head. “And I know everything you’ve done, even forgiving me, has been out of love for my son.” Her voice broke.
Dawn realized she wasn’t the only one consumed by guilt. “You weren’t wrong about me.”
“Oh, I was very wrong. I couldn’t have been more wrong. When I looked at you, I saw myself at fifteen-arrogant, selfish, defiant. I wanted what I wanted when I wanted it. I didn’t care what anyone thought. You listened. You repented. When I got pregnant, my world fell apart. My boyfriend dumped me and moved on to a new girl. My parents kicked me out. I was living on the streets when Jason was born. It took five years to crawl up out of the gutter life I’d made for myself. I don’t even want to remember the things I did to put bread on our table. And then, feeling holier-than-thou, I had the audacity to ambush you. I dug a hole and tried to bury you under my hurt and bitterness. Everything I said to you was all about the girl I’d been. I didn’t even see you.”
Dawn let out a shuddering breath. She’d prayed so hard about this meeting and now felt the warmth of God’s answer filling her. “But don’t you see? I was all the things you said, Georgia.”
When Georgia opened her mouth, Dawn raised her hand. “Let me finish. If you’d been gentle, I might not have listened. It took you speaking the truth the way you did to get through to me. I’m grateful that you did. God used your words to draw me to Himself, and that’s when the Lord started working. Maybe if someone had spoken to you the way you spoke to me, things would have turned out differently for you too.” She’d been afraid she wouldn’t be able to say a word when she walked through the front door, but words flowed naturally and with a love she hadn’t known she possessed for Jason’s mother.
Georgia let out a long breath. “Just to be clear: I couldn’t be more pleased you’re marrying my son.”
“Me, too.”
They laughed together.
“Well. All that being said…” Georgia leaned forward and lifted the plate. “Have a cookie. And then let’s talk about how I can help put on a beautiful wedding.”
From the day Dawn told her family she and Jason were getting married, Granny had pressured Dawn to go shopping for a white wedding dress. Dawn didn’t feel entitled to wear a white gown, but she didn’t want to hurt Granny by explaining why not. She didn’t know what to do until her mother offered the pale pink gown and veil she’d worn when she married Mitch. “I think it’ll fit you.” Her mother seemed shy about it. “If you want it.”
“I do.” She’d felt her mother stiffen slightly when she hugged her. Sometimes Dawn wondered why her mother seemed so uncomfortable with physical affection, unless it came from Christopher or Mitch.
On the morning of the wedding, deaconesses were on hand to decorate the church with the poinsettias Georgia had delivered, and by eleven, the place was packed with well-wishers. Dawn saw Jason’s gaze fixed on her as Mitch walked her down the aisle. She gave white roses to Granny and Mom. When Pastor Daniel pronounced them man and wife, the congregants erupted in applause and cheers. On the way back up the aisle, Dawn paused and gave Georgia a white rose and kissed her cheek. She had two left, one to throw and one to keep.
While pictures were being taken, deacons rearranged chairs and set up tables. Caterers covered everything with linens and spread platters with enough fancy sandwiches and salads to feed an army. A three-tiered wedding cake stood on a central table. The stack of beautifully wrapped packages grew on two back tables. After the receiving line, Jason and Dawn sat at the head table and nibbled at lunch. They cut the cake, carefully feeding each other small bites, and then danced to the music of the professional band Mitch had hired.
Jason held Dawn close as they waltzed, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine. “Can we go now?” he whispered against her ear. His hand spread on the small of her back. “We’ve cut the cake and had our dance.”
She laughed softly. “The reception is supposed to last another hour.”
Mitch cut in. “Dad’s turn.” Grinning broadly at Jason, he took Dawn in his arms. “You look like you can’t wait to get her out of here, but you won’t want to drive your Honda anywhere until you run it through a car wash.”
Jason grimaced. “I’m going to-”
“Do nothing.” Mitch chuckled. “Carolyn will give you the keys to my Bonneville.”
“Thanks, Mitch.” Jason stepped forward. “Can I have my wife back now?”
“Not so fast. You have duties to perform. Dance with your mother and mother-in-law first. And I’ve been informed Dawn still has to throw her rose to a gaggle of single girls. And you have to toss her garter to that pack of wolves you call friends. Then Pita’s all yours for the rest of your life, buddy boy.”
Laughing, Dawn punched him.
It was a long, dark drive and well after ten before they reached Fort Bragg and signed into the Harbor Lite Lodge as Mr. and Mrs. Jason Steward. The suite was larger than Dawn’s studio apartment. Someone had already lit the fire in the small Franklin stove. She opened the sliding-glass door and went out on the small balcony overlooking the Noyo River. A light rain sprinkled, and fog curled around the security lights on the docks below.
Jason slid his hands around her waist and drew her back against him. “Finally. We’re alone.” He kissed the curve of her neck, sending warm tendrils through her body. “And married.”
After spending two nights and two days in their suite, with only brief outings for meals, Dawn and Jason returned to Alexander Valley for the family Christmas celebration. “Wait until you see!” Christopher bounded ahead of them to her bedroom and threw the door open. All the wedding presents had been stacked, waiting to be unwrapped. Dawn gaped.
Jason dumped their two small suitcases inside the door and stared. “Holy cow!”
Mom peered in. “Welcome home, you two.” Her eyes shone. “It seems you both have a lot of friends who wanted to help you set up housekeeping.”
Mitch, standing right behind her, nudged her into the room. “Don’t panic. Once everything is opened, pick what you need and leave the rest here for later.”
Granny asked Dawn and Jason to come out to Jenner for a few days after Christmas, but Jason said they needed to go home to San Luis Obispo. He had to move his stuff into Dawn’s apartment, and they needed to get settled in before classes started.
Dawn knew another reason Jason didn’t want to go to Jenner. She waited until they were alone that night to ask his forgiveness for what she brought about in the downstairs apartment.
“You weren’t alone, you know.” Jason touched her cheek. “I stayed overnight hoping you’d come downstairs. I could have stopped things if I’d wanted, Dawn. It wasn’t all your idea.” He drew her close and kissed her.
1991
It didn’t take long for Jason and Dawn to decide they had to study somewhere other than in the apartment. With two small desks and the nook table, they didn’t have room to spread their books and reports. They made other adjustments as well. Dawn liked to do her Bible study before the sun came up pink-yellow over the hills. Jason, a night owl, studied Scripture at night.
They walked to campus together. They ate lunch together, and they spent every spare minute studying at the library. Dawn cooked and did laundry on Saturdays. Sunday, they went to the early service and then took long walks, went to the beach, talked over Chinese food, and hung out with Dod Henson and Alice Jeffries, their closest friends on campus. Sometimes Jack Kohl joined them, if he had a new girlfriend.
They talked of nothing but the war in Iraq, the need to protect the oil fields and Persian Gulf, the hope for success with the air campaign and bombing of leadership targets in Baghdad. Coalition ground forces drove on Iraqi forces in Kuwait. After four days, Iraqi forces agreed to a cease-fire and retreated from Kuwait. The push to reach Baghdad halted. Jason and Dod sneered over U.N. objectives being met. Even when Iraq agreed to a permanent cease-fire, they saw trouble ahead. “Saddam Hussein fancies himself the second Nebuchadnezzar. He’s not done. They’ve just given him time to coil for another strike.”
Life felt regimented, but comfortable and with frequent moments of delight. The only dark cloud was approaching summer break. Jason would be leaving for two months, undergoing military training at Fort Lewis, Washington. Dawn knew she had to keep busy or be miserable while he was gone. Still intent upon finishing college as quickly as possible, she registered for a summer session psychology class.
The week before finals, Dawn had difficulty sleeping. One morning she rose while it was still dark and quietly slid the partition between the living room and bedroom closed. Turning on the swag lamp over the kitchen nook table, she opened her Bible and workbook. She and Jason had been married five months, and she still hadn’t finished all the sections. She’d been taking her time, praying over the questions, and examining herself, asking God to reveal areas of her life that needed change.
As the warmth of the sun spilled in the window, she heard a soft click. Startled, she glanced toward the bedroom. Jason stood there holding a camera. “Perfect.” Grinning, he set it on the coffee table.
“You took a picture?” She was still in her robe and slippers, her hair loose and wild.
Leaning down, he hemmed her in with his hands planted on the table. He nuzzled her neck. “I love the way the sun lights up your hair in the morning. You look like an angel studying God’s directives for the day.” Straightening, he put his hands on her shoulders. “And I wanted something more natural than a wedding picture to keep me company while I’m at Fort Lewis.”
The first thing Dawn saw when she walked into the apartment after her last final exam was Jason’s physical training uniform hooked on the closet trim, ready to be worn. She burst into tears. They’d been married only five months, and he’d be gone tomorrow morning. He’d spend a month in cadet troop leadership training and then be off to airborne school right after that. “Two months,” she muttered. “Two months!”
He said the camp was designed to develop leadership skills, teamwork, water safety, land navigation, fire support, weapons use, and tactical and physical training. Portions of it sounded ominous and dangerous to her, but he dismissed her worries. Thankfully, the war in Iraq had ended in March. Lord willing, Jason would not see actual combat during his military service. Dawn didn’t know how she would cope with that.
Jason had told her he first started thinking about ROTC after her grandfather had regaled him with World War II stories. After their breakup, Jason started thinking more about the military. He’d sought out Mitch and asked questions about the Vietnam War and his military experience. Mitch had told him the military had a lot to offer and the country always needed good men trained and ready. His school counselor told him to talk to the ROTC recruiting officer at Cal Poly. When he learned the Army would give him the financial aid he needed to get through college in exchange for six years of his life, Jason decided it was a generous offer. Without discussing it with his mother or Pastor Daniel, he entered the program freshman year.
Dawn dumped her backpack on the bed. Jason admitted he hadn’t consulted God about that decision, but whether he had or had not wasn’t an issue now. God was sovereign. Man might plan, but God would prevail. She believed that with all her heart. She just hadn’t realized how much military life might suit Jason-or how much it might demand of her.
Jason took her in his arms. “I’m not gone yet.”
“You’ll be jumping out of airplanes, Jason.”
“Yeah.”
He sounded excited about it. She pushed away and looked at him. He looked excited, too. “You can’t wait, can you?”
“I’m not going to lie to you.”
“I know.” She’d overheard him talking with Dod and Jack. In truth, all three were looking forward to the training, like it was some kind of grand adventure!
Letting out her breath, she withdrew. “I’m just being ridiculous.” Would she rather he was miserable and wishing he didn’t have to follow through on his obligations to the military? When she reached for the duffel bag, he grabbed it and slung it onto the bed. She started packing for him. “I’ll be all right. I’ll keep busy.”
“I’ll call you every chance I get.”
Jason called to let her know he’d arrived safely at Fort Lewis. After less than a minute, she heard another man asking to use the phone. After that, she waited in vain to hear from him. His second call came before he headed into airborne training, though Dawn still couldn’t understand why an engineer needed to know how to jump out of an airplane. She didn’t waste time asking. They talked for fifteen minutes before he had to hang up so someone else could make a call.
To keep from being depressed, Dawn poured herself into her psychology class. While going through lecture notes on symptoms of abuse, she thought about her mother for some odd reason. Dawn realized she knew very little about her mother’s past, other than what Granny had told her.
What had kept Mom away from church for so many years? Why did she withdraw from any show of affection, unless it came from Mitch or Christopher? Granny took a step toward her, and Mom retreated. What caused the tension between them? When Dawn thought more about it, she realized her mother had always had difficulty with relationships, especially if they were casual. She served, but didn’t mingle; she watched from a distance, but didn’t attempt to participate. Dawn had this mental picture of her mother peering over a protective wall while keeping the gate to the outside world locked.
What might have caused that? Could it have something to do with the Haight-Ashbury years? Dawn didn’t know much about that time in her mother’s life. Granny said the past was best forgotten, and Mom never talked about it. Anytime anyone mentioned the turbulent sixties, Mom became very quiet.
Maybe she should ask…
Dawn tried to during one of her weekly calls home. As usual, Mom stayed on the phone less than five minutes, leaving it to Christopher to report the family’s news. Dawn didn’t even get close to broaching the subject with her.
Dawn asked Granny what Mom had been like as a little girl. “Beautiful.” Granny sounded wistful. “Quiet. There weren’t any other little girls her age on our road, but she always seemed content playing by herself.”
“Did she ever seem nervous or exhibit any odd behavior?”
Granny chuckled. “The trouble with studying psychology is you begin to imagine symptoms of all kinds of neuroses in everyone you know. Your mother was a perfectly normal child, just a little quieter than most.”
“So Mom never had nightmares or sucked her thumb…?”
“Oh, there was a while when she used to sneak into Charlie’s room and sleep with him or on the floor beside his bed. It didn’t last long. I put a stop to it as soon as I knew.”
“And she was fine with that, no crying or arguments?”
Silence for a moment. “She started sleeping in her closet. But really, Dawn, you’re making way too much of it.”
“I know, Granny. I’m just curious. That’s all.”
“We started leaving a night-light on in the bathroom. She seemed fine after that. Or maybe it was Oma.”
“Oma?”
“She came to live with us about that time.” Her tone turned brisk. “Either way, your mom stayed in her own bed after that.”
On impulse, Dawn called her mother that evening and asked if she remembered having nightmares as a child.
“Why do you ask?”
“I’m taking psychology.”
“Oh. Well. I suppose all children have bad dreams. Don’t they?”
“Granny said you used to sneak in and sleep with Uncle Charlie.”
“Did she?”
“And when she put a stop to it, you slept in your closet.”
Silence.
“Mom?”
“What started this line of questioning?”
Dawn winced. Mom might as well have said interrogation. “I’m taking psychology, and the lectures have been on child abuse.”
“I was never beaten, May Flo-” She stopped. “Dawn.” She spoke the correction quietly.
“We’ll have to talk about my name someday.” Dawn tried to keep her tone light. When her mother didn’t respond, she apologized for asking such personal questions. “I was just curious.”
Her mother’s reticence only served to make her more so.
Dawn sat at the nook table, flipping through her class notes. Slapping her binder closed, she stared out the window. She’d studied enough. She didn’t want to think about psychology or come up with any more theories on why her mother was the way she was. She’d never know anything more about her than she did now. It wasn’t her business anyway.
She knew what the problem was: she had too much time on her hands. She needed something to do other than go to class, study, and hang around the apartment, waiting for Jason to call. She had to stop counting the days until he’d come home. She looked at the bare white walls, the worn beige couch, the drab chipboard coffee table sitting on the beige rug. Life without Jason was as colorless as the apartment.
The place needed cheering up. It needed color!
Grabbing her keys and purse, Dawn left the apartment. She drove downtown and bought half a dozen women’s magazines. She spotted notices on the coffee shop bulletin board: garage sales popped up like weeds every Friday afternoon. She’d always thought it might be fun to visit a few, see what treasures she might find among the piles of junk. On the way back to the apartment, Dawn stopped by a hardware store and picked out paint color strips.
“Walls have to be back to white before you leave,” Mr. Cooper, the apartment manager told her when she explained what she’d like to do. “Otherwise, you forfeit your security deposit.”
After psychology class, Dawn went to the library and looked for books on interior design. She jotted down ideas, then went back to the apartment to take measurements and map out furnishings. She tore pages from magazines.
Early Saturday morning, Dawn drove south to Santa Maria, hoping to be the first arrival at the Huge Neighborhood Garage Sale: furnishings, fine linens, china… She wasn’t. Already a crowd wandered the cul-de-sac, picking through racks of clothing, looking over electronic gadgets, tools, toys, and totally useless knickknacks. Dawn bargained for two matching crested chairs with burgundy upholstery and got them for twenty dollars. She fitted them carefully into the backseat of the Sable and continued her search. She bought two Talavera plates for five dollars; an old, worn, imitation Persian rug in jewel tones for twenty-five; and a glass bowl full of seashells for a buck.
Still on the hunt, Dawn wandered, looking for anything that caught her eye. She became engrossed with a shoe box full of maps and another of postcards. She bought three framed posters of rock groups. On her way back to the car, she bargained for two large sky-blue blankets and a somewhat-faded yellow and blue French provincial tablecloth with deep pink peonies and daisies.
Mr. Cooper saw her pull up and laughed. “When the dog’s away, the cat will play. Need some help unloading all that junk?”
She laughed, excited about getting to work on decorating. “Yes, please.” She started pulling the rolled carpet through the back window. “And I’ll have you know these are treasures.”
Over the next week, Dawn painted the living room wall butter yellow, folded and pinned one blue blanket around the body of the sofa and the other around the two large cushions, unrolled the Persian rug, tucking it beneath the sofa, and set the oval-backed chairs in opposite corners, the coffee table in the middle. Making do without a sewing machine, Dawn folded and pinned colorful cloth covers over cheap pillows and arranged them on the sofa.
Removing the rock concert pictures, she used two of the frames to mount maps of Monterey and Washington, D.C. As the centerpiece of wall art, she created a colorful collage of old postcards from national parks across the country. She hung the two Talavera plates in the kitchen, put a yellow valance over the nook window, and spread the Provence tablecloth. Last touches included the glass bowl of seashells on the coffee table, the new issue of VIA from the California Automobile Association, and a bouquet of yellow roses in a lime green Fiesta water pitcher.
Arms akimbo, she admired the room. Eclectic, she decided, already imagining other things she could do to make the room more interesting. A potted palm in the corner would be nice, and some nice coverings for the ugly end tables. Changing the lamp shades…
She stopped the train of thoughts running through her head. The living room looked warm and cozy. Now she needed to read another chapter in her psychology text and review her notes. She still had five more days for decorating before Jason came home.
Flipping through her notes, she became distracted. She had a great idea for adding a little wow factor to the bedroom.
Dawn spotted Jason in his uniform coming down the steps of the small jet disgorging its twenty passengers. She wanted to hurtle herself into his arms, but had already been warned the military frowned on public displays of affection. Apparently, Jason forgot. When she got her breath back, she noticed Dod Henson and Jack Kohl approaching and called out a greeting as Jason took her hand.
They all waited at the conveyor belt that would deposit passenger luggage.
Jason brushed his other hand against her cheek. “What’ve you been doing while I’ve been away?”
“Keeping busy.”
“How’s your psychology class going?”
“Fascinating, but I’ve discovered another passion.”
“What’s that?”
She gave him an impish smile. “Wait and see.”
When he stepped through the door of the apartment, he stared. “Wow! Did you call in a decorator?”
“Nope. I did it all by myself. I spent less than two hundred dollars on the whole place. What do you think?”
“Classy.” He looked closer at the maps on the wall. “Where did you come up with all these ideas?”
“Women’s magazines, garage sales…”
He stepped around the partition. “I’m impressed.” He stared at the ceiling medallion where she’d tucked and hot-glued mosquito netting that draped the top half of the bed. He turned to grin at her. “Reminds me of a pasha’s tent. Do you have harem girls in the closet?”
“There’s only room for one girl in this apartment, Jason.” She stepped close and unfastened the top button on his camouflage shirt. She looked up at him as she unbuttoned the next and the next. “And don’t even think about adding another to your life.”
Jason swept her up in his arms and tossed her into the middle of the bed. “Not unless we have a daughter.”
1992
When she finally started student nursing, Dawn was distressed to discover that working in a hospital wasn’t anything like taking nursing classes. She could make beds and cheer the patients. She could do sponge baths and plump pillows. She could take vitals and fill out charts. But she felt queasy every time she watched a procedure. When called to help change dressings, she sucked in her breath every time the patient did. The sight of more than a tablespoon of blood made yellow and black spots dance before her eyes.
It wasn’t her calling. That was the problem. She watched the other nursing students and knew they loved what they were doing, while she dreaded every minute. She felt tense and uncomfortable the moment she stepped into the hospital, afraid she wouldn’t be up to whatever emergency she’d face.
Jason tried to cheer her up. “You should’ve majored in art and interior design.”
Too late now. Mom and Mitch, Christopher, and Granny came down together for Dawn’s graduation. Georgia arrived a day ahead, thought the apartment “stunning,” and accepted the invitation to sleep on the sofa rather than pay for a motel room.
The rest agreed with Georgia. “I think you missed your calling, Pita.”
Great. Just what she needed to hear.
Jason sat proudly in the audience as Dawn received honors for her academic work. He needed another year to finish his engineering degree, especially now that he’d decided to add on a master’s.
Christopher begged Dawn and Jason to come home for the summer. Everyone else joined in. Georgia said Kim and Tom were coming home. “She’s pregnant.”
Dawn couldn’t wait for the day when she and Jason could start a family.
Granny patted Jason’s arm. “You haven’t been out to Jenner since before Papa died.” Dawn felt heat flood her face and lowered her head, hoping no one noticed. Granny rushed on. “You two can stay in the downstairs apartment as long as you like, take drives along the coast, walk on the beach. Spend a week… or a month.”
Mom looked at Dawn. “It’d be nice if you’d spend a few weeks with us, too.”
“Don’t forget you have a mother, Jason.”
Under the table, Jason’s hand slid to Dawn’s thigh. “Nice to be in such demand.” He gave her a teasing smile. “We wouldn’t have to pay rent for two months.”
Dawn and Jason spent the first two weeks with Georgia. Dawn felt odd the first night, sleeping in Jason’s old bed with Georgia just across the narrow hall. Both tense, they spoke in whispers and barely touched.
After their stay with Georgia, they moved to Alexander Valley to spend time with Mom, Mitch, and Christopher. Christoper jabbered all through the first dinner and left shortly afterward for an overnight at a friend’s house. Dawn insisted on doing the dishes. When the phone rang, Mom answered. Dawn could tell by her shuttered expression Granny was on the other end of the line.
“They just got here… I don’t know. They haven’t said anything. They were over at Georgia’s for two weeks.” She listened for a moment, shoulders drooping. “They have friends to see and things to do… Yes. I know.” She looked at Dawn and mouthed, Granny wants to talk to you.
Dawn dried her hands and took the phone. Mom went into the family room, where Mitch and Jason were watching a golf tournament. Mitch said something, and Mom sat next to him. He draped an arm around her and she leaned into his side.
Granny wanted to know how soon Dawn and Jason were coming to Jenner. Feeling guilty, Dawn said they wouldn’t come for three weeks, at least. So long? Granny didn’t try to cover her disappointment. “I’d like to spend as much time with Mom and Mitch and Christopher as I can, Granny.”
“Oh. Well. Of course, I understand.” Her tone hinted the opposite. “There are three of them to visit with and only one of me.”
Dawn winced with guilt. “We could come out for a visit on Saturday.”
“I’ll fix a nice lunch.”
When Dawn told Jason, Mitch gave her an odd look. Mom kept her focus on the television.
Later that night, Jason slipped his arm around her as they lay in bed. “What’s with your mom and grandmother?”
“I’m not sure, but I think I’m the bone of contention.”
“How so?”
“Mom came home from Haight-Ashbury pregnant. Granny had to give up her nursing career to take care of me.”
“Somehow I don’t think she minded.” He ran a finger over her brow. “Where was your mom while your grandmother was taking care of you?”
“Going to school, working. I think she was trying to piece her life back together.”
“She picked a good man to help her.”
“Mitch picked her. As far as I know, my mother never even went on a date until he rode into town on his motorcycle. He was Uncle Charlie’s best friend. He told me once he’s been in love with Mom since high school.”
“Sounds like someone else I know.” Jason leaned down and kissed her.
When he raised his head, she ran her fingers through his short hair. “Mitch is the only person Mom allows close.” She sighed. “Mothers and daughters should be close, too. I know Mom and Granny love each other, but they can’t talk. I’m not sure who put up the wall first or why. I just wish I knew how to tear it down.”
They curled together like two spoons in a drawer. Jason wrapped his arm around her. “Ask God to do it for you.”
1993
Everyone came for Jason’s graduation. Jason wore a black cap and gown to receive his bachelor’s and master’s diplomas. Later that same day, he wore his Army uniform with red trim and socks to designate he was an engineer. Dawn had never seen him more handsome.
The past year had been difficult, but she knew harder days were to come.
While Dawn sat silent, Jason told everyone what was coming. He had orders to Fort Sill, Oklahoma, where he’d go through three months of basic infantry training. After that, he’d train with the corps of engineers at Fort Leonard Wood in Missouri. Then he could apply for Airborne, Ranger, or Special Forces training.
Granny jumped in and pressed Dawn with advice to quit her nursing job at the clinic and stay at Jenner until Jason had a duty station.
Mom spoke quietly. “That could be months away.”
Granny looked annoyed. “It’s not easy chasing all over the country. I’ve done it.” She turned to Dawn. “You move into a room somewhere and wait until he has a weekend off. You’ll be lonely and depressed.”
Jason frowned as though that side of things hadn’t even occurred to him until Granny brought it up.
Mom interrupted. “Dawn should decide.”
“I wasn’t saying she shouldn’t. I just think Dawn would be better off spending time with family now.”
Dawn jumped in before things could get worse. “I’ve already decided what I’m going to do.”
Jason looked at her in surprise. “You have?”
“Yes.” She smiled at him, trying to project more confidence than she felt. “Where you go, I go.” She glanced around the table, at Mitch, Mom, Christopher, Granny, and Georgia. “I love all of you very much, but Jason is my husband.”
“But…,” Granny stammered.
“If I have to live in a tent, Granny, it’s all right by me. I belong with Jason.”
A few seconds of silence could feel like an eternity.
“Okay then.” Jason’s eyes shone. He took her hand and kissed it.
Granny’s shoulders slumped. “Thank God there’s no war.”
“What, Hildie?” Mitch grinned down the table. “Dawn might strap on a rifle and follow him into battle?”
Everyone laughed, even Granny, though not as brightly. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Dawn is my granddaughter.” She told the gathering she’d almost enlisted in the nursing corps during World War II, but Trip made her ineligible.
“How’d he do that?” Christopher wanted to know.
“He got me pregnant!”
More laughter resounded around the table. Georgia winked at Dawn. “Now, there’s a welcome idea.”
Dawn put in her two-week notice at the clinic. They offered a bonus if she would stay until they could find a replacement. After discussing it with Jason, Dawn agreed to stay on staff for a month. Jason had his Honda serviced, packed, and headed for Oklahoma, leaving Dawn to decide what to take, sell, or give away before following him to Fort Sill.
Until Jason walked out the door, Dawn had no qualms about the decisions they had made. After he left, she lay awake at night, filled with anxiety. What had ever given her the idea she could drive cross-country alone? What if the car overheated or broke down? What if she ran out of gas on some long stretch across Arizona or New Mexico? Where would she stay when she arrived in Lawton, Oklahoma?
Burying her face in her hands, Dawn prayed. Her mind wandered to Abraham and Sarah. God had told Abraham to go forth from his country, his relatives, and his father’s house to the land God would show him. And he’d gone without question, just like Jason. Maybe she should have been like Sarah and gone with him rather than stay behind and follow later.
Lord, help me not to be afraid.
Oma came to mind. She’d never been afraid of anything, had left home at fifteen and gone out alone into the world to make her own way. Oma had lived in Montreaux and then moved to France and on to England. She boarded a ship, crossed the Atlantic, and started all over again in Montreal, Canada. When she married, her husband went off to the wheat fields to work, leaving her behind to run a boardinghouse and then travel by herself with a babe in arms to join her husband. Then she gave birth to Granny in a cabin out in the middle of nowhere-no hospital, no doctor, not even a midwife to help her. Later, with three children, she packed and came with her husband to California, where they lived in a tent before finally having a place of their own.
Fear lost its grip when Dawn thought about her great-grandmother. Granny had always said Oma was hard, but Dawn hadn’t found her that way during that week in Merced. Crusty on the outside, perhaps, but she’d revealed a softness inside that had made Dawn wish she’d spent more time with her, gotten to know her better. Still, she had assurance Oma’s blood ran in her veins.
God didn’t give His children a heart of timidity, but of power and love and discipline. She would get maps, lay out her route, and take the journey one day at a time. What sense did it make to worry about tomorrow?
Dawn talked with her mother before setting off. She half hoped Mom would volunteer to come with her. Instead, she talked about Oma. “She loved to take long drives and explore. She would’ve loved the kind of trip you’re going on.”
Doodling on a notepad, Dawn tossed out another hint. “It’s a little daunting driving so far without any company.”
“I know. I did it once.”
“You had a friend with you.”
“Half-comatose from drugs and alcohol.”
“Oh.”
“You don’t have to go alone, Dawn. You could ask Granny.”
Dawn’s heart sank, and she rubbed her forehead. “I think I should go alone. I might as well grow up now and not put it off.”
“You’re growing up quite nicely, May Flower Dawn.”
The softly spoken compliment brought tears to Dawn’s eyes. “Do you really think so, Mom?” She felt like a baby, wanting to wail.
“Yes. I do. I’m proud of you.”
Dawn almost blurted out that she wanted her mother to come with her. She wanted time alone with her so they could talk. She wanted to get to know her mother before they were separated by half a continent. “I’m a little nervous about the trip.”
“Understandable, but you won’t be alone, Dawn. You’re never alone. God is with you. He goes ahead and He watches your back. He walks with you and dwells inside you. Just keep listening to Him.”
“I’m glad you finally started believing in God.”
“I’ve believed in Jesus for twenty-four years, Dawn. It’s people I never learned to trust. I’ll be praying for you. So will Georgia and a host of others. Granny, too. You know that. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like you to call me, let me know how far you make it each day. You don’t have to talk long.”
“Jason insisted I check in with someone every day.”
“Good for Jason.”
When they hung up, Dawn finished packing the last few things and went to bed, hoping for a good night’s sleep before she set off the next morning. But her mind wouldn’t shut down.
Twenty-four years. Isn’t that what her mother had said? That would make it right around the time she had gotten pregnant. Maybe it had been the hardship and accidental pregnancy that had driven her mother to her knees. A desperate surrender.
Dawn yearned for the open affection Mom gave Christopher. But at least now her mother felt pride in her. They could talk more. Their best days as mother and daughter had been during the worst time in Dawn’s life. Mom had known she grieved over Jason. When she came to Dawn’s bedroom that dark night of despair, and Dawn confessed, Mom never spoke a word of condemnation or disappointment. What Mom said helped Dawn change course: Examine yourself; take what is true and do what’s right. And when others hurt you, forgive.
Maybe someday they’d be able to sit down and really talk. Maybe someday they could go back to the beginning and go deep and rise up out of the pain of the past, together.
Dawn set out early Saturday morning, a disposable camera close at hand. She drove north to Atascadero, cut across to Shandon, and then took the road southeast toward the Central Valley. Orchards covered the area around Blackwells Corner. She pulled in at James Dean’s Last Stop and browsed shelves of candy, dried fruit, jars of preserves and salsas, Indian art, and fifties memorabilia. After buying trail mix and a few souvenir postcards, she got back on the road. She passed rows of pink, red, and white rosebushes near Wasco before joining Highway 99 south.
She stopped at a roadside café on the other side of Bakersfield for lunch and studied the map while she ate. Later in the afternoon, she stretched her legs by walking through a Route 66 museum. Heat kept her in the car after that. Finally, as night approached, she could see a dome of light on the horizon. Las Vegas. She drove the Strip and found the hotel where she’d made a reservation.
Tossing her duffel bag on the green paisley spread, she picked up the telephone and punched the number for an open line.
Mom answered on the second ring and sounded relieved when she heard it was Dawn. “Everything go okay today?”
Dawn summarized what she’d seen in less than a minute.
“Are you in a decent place?”
“Clean, good lock, close to the Tropicana. I’m going to walk over there for dinner.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to delay you.”
Dawn realized how abrupt she must sound. “I didn’t mean to…” Why was it so much easier to talk to Granny than her mother?
“You go have a nice dinner, Dawn. I’ll talk to you in a few days. Call me collect.”
After a very reasonably priced buffet dinner, she returned to the hotel and wrote to Jason.
I wish I could sketch like Aunt Rikki… I bought a copy of On the Road by Jack Kerouac. Maybe it will boost my enthusiasm for this trip…
She spent half the next day at Hoover Dam and then drove nonstop to Hurricane, Utah, checked into a hotel, and ate at a small diner next door before calling Granny. She hadn’t talked more than five minutes when Granny started worrying about long-distance charges. When she mentioned it again a minute later, Dawn surrendered.
She left early the next morning to see Zion National Park. Mom wanted to hear all about it, but Dawn was too tired to talk long and wanted to get a letter off to Jason before she went to bed.
This will be a short letter, my love. I miss you so much! I wish you were making this trip with me. I’m trying not to rush. I know if I do, I’ll just end up sitting alone in an apartment and crying all day…
The farther she drove, the lonelier she felt. She tried not to think how many more days it would take to reach Lawton, Oklahoma. Jason would be living in the barracks for three months. They’d see each other only on weekends.
She thought about her mother trying to keep her on the telephone and Granny trying to hurry her off. It seemed such a turnaround, now that she thought more about it. That night she checked in with Granny first and then called Mom.
“Jason called this afternoon. He gave me the names of two apartment complexes he wants you to check out when you get to Lawton. Both are near the base.”
Dawn jotted down the information.
“Did you make it to the Grand Canyon?”
Dawn flopped back on the bed. “I’m about ten minutes away from the south rim. Japanese tourists got there ahead of me.” She laughed. “They all had cameras. I had to wait an hour to get close to the rail.” Mom kept asking questions and Dawn kept answering.
“Are you planning to stay over tomorrow, see a little more?”
“I don’t think so. I want to keep going. I hope to make it to Monument Valley.” Dawn heard Mitch talking in the background. “Does he need the phone?” She hadn’t talked to her mother this long on a telephone ever.
“No. He just wants to know if you’re checking oil and tire pressure and making sure you have plenty of gas before you make those long hauls across the desert.”
“Tell him yes. I’m being very conscientious.”
The next day seemed to last forever. Monument Valley was an endless expanse. Worried she might overheat the car, she turned off her air-conditioning and opened the window.
Granny let her talk for five minutes that night, then told Dawn she should get a good night’s sleep. Dawn hung up and wrote another long letter to Jason.
Dawn saw the sign for the turnoff to Mesa Verde National Park and calculated how long it would take to go in, see the ruins and museum, and drive out. Forget it! She headed for Durango. She’d had enough of traveling alone. Even if she and Jason couldn’t live together, she still wanted to be as close to him as possible. It might cheer him up to know she was ready and waiting when he did get liberty.
Canceling reservations in Pagosa Springs and Albuquerque, Dawn headed for Amarillo, Texas. Other than stopping now and then to use a restroom, check her oil and tire pressure, fill the tank with gas, and have a fast meal, she didn’t see anything that held as much interest for her as Jason Steward in Lawton, Oklahoma.
The following afternoon, exhausted, Dawn arrived, checked into a Best Western, and called her mother. “I made it.”
“I wondered how long you’d last before you decided to make a run for Lawton. Will you be able to see Jason?”
“Probably not, but at least I’m close to him. When he calls you, give him this number.”
Dawn let a hot shower massage her aching muscles. She put on sweatpants and one of Jason’s T-shirts and fell asleep on top of the bedspread. Bleary-eyed, she looked at the time and realized she had slept five hours. The sun was going down.
Her motel room phone rang.
“You’re here?” Jason lowered his voice. “How close?”
“Five minutes from the gate.”
He laughed softly. “Didn’t see Mesa Verde?”
“Waved as I drove on by.”
“Durango?”
“Drove through.”
“What happened to seeing some of the country?”
“I’m only interested in one natural wonder. You.”
Jason’s old Honda was parked in the hotel lot when Dawn returned from moving their things into the apartment she’d found. He came out of the office, looking annoyed. She rolled down her window and called out to him. “Hey, handsome!” Grinning broadly, he headed straight for her like an airplane landing on a carrier. He opened her car door. She got out and threw herself into his arms. “I found us an apartment. I moved our stuff in this afternoon. All white and beige…”
“Don’t waste time or money fixing the place up. Okay? I’m only going to be here two more months and then Missouri.”
She closed her eyes. Another long, lonely drive lay ahead of her, but she wouldn’t allow herself to think of that now. This was the path Jason had chosen. God had brought them back together so she could walk it with him. When her stomach growled loudly, she grimaced. “I’m so hungry, my stomach is about to digest my lungs.”
“We’d better feed you then.”
Dawn packed and checked out the next morning. Jason followed in his old Honda and pulled into the space beside her. “Nice complex.” He liked the apartment, though after a barracks, he said even the hotel room had been Shangri-la. While Dawn pulled sheets and pillowcases from a box and made up the queen bed, Jason talked about his training, the guys he’d met in the barracks, his instructors. Dawn stowed pots and pans while Jason set up their computer on the nook table.
“We’re all moved in.” Jason thunked his booted feet on the coffee table and draped his arms over the back of the couch.
Dawn looked at the nook table covered with computer components and printer and wires snaking everywhere. “Not very homey.”
“Functional. And we can use the coffee table for dining.” He smirked at her when she stared pointedly at his boots. “Or go out.”
She sat beside him, tucking herself under his arm. “We need groceries.” She looked through the glass doors to the naked patio. Their home needed color and spots of interest. Two patio chairs and a little table with a potted plant would perk up the outside. A couple of pillows, a simple cabinet to cover all the computer wires, a framed picture, and…
Jason gripped her head like a basketball. “I can hear your wheels turning.”
Monday morning, Dawn awakened alone, puffy-eyed from crying herself to sleep the night before. Jason had stayed as long as he could before heading back to base, but watching him walk out the door left an empty, aching feeling inside her. It would be five days before she saw him again. She remembered what Granny had said about sitting around all day, waiting and feeling lonely and wondering when she’d see her husband.
Standing at the kitchen counter, Dawn ate her eggs and glared at the nook. She had no place to write notes and study her Bible, and the computer was an eyesore. The apartment felt like a beige tomb. She shoved her Bible, journal, and spiral notebook into a backpack and headed out to Cameron University, only a few blocks away.
The college library felt more like home. She found a quiet table where she could read. She felt less lonely with others nearby, comfortable with the studious silence. After an hour, she looked through books on interior design. She made quick sketches and jotted down ideas. The Lawton Constitution and Anadarko Daily News had a list of upcoming garage sales.
Dawn drove to the base to fill out the paperwork for her ID, then went on a self-guided base tour of grave sites of famous Indians warriors-Geronimo and Kiowa Chief Satanta and Comanche Chief Quanah Parker.
She stopped at a large home improvement center on the way back to the apartment and bought a computer table kit, screwdriver, and small hammer. The store put on workshops for basic carpentry and home repairs. Unfortunately, most were on Saturdays. She asked if they had anything during the week; the clerk said no, but showed her a wall display of how-to books.
Jason called that night. “What did you do today?”
“Explored Lawton and the base. The wind sure blows here.” She told him about the Indian Wars, the Chiricahua Apaches. “Did you know Geronimo is buried on Fort Sill?”
Lying alone in bed that night, Dawn stared at the ceiling. During the day, she could keep busy and not feel so alone. When the night rolled in around her, the wind whistling outside, the loneliness blew in and stayed. She imagined Jason lying on his bunk in a barracks full of other soldiers. Bunching up Jason’s pillow, she hugged it close.
Seven weeks later, she packed up and followed Jason again.
Dear Granny,
Jason and I are now settled in on-base housing at “Fort Lost in the Woods,” Missouri. Jason has been told he’ll be here for “a while,” though that can mean anything from a few weeks to a few years in the Army. Wherever Jason is needed, we’ll go.
Driving on snowy roads is an experience. I wouldn’t want to drive cross-country this time of year! There’d have to be a good reason! We are looking forward to a white Christmas, though we will miss you and the rest of our family.
We looked for apartments in Devil’s Elbow, Hooker, Gospel Ridge (don’t you just love those names!) but decided to choose on-base housing. A two-bedroom, one-bathroom unit opened up. Our little house shares a wall with Ricardo and Alicia Martinez and little Lalo, their adorable two-year-old. Alicia had him outside making snow angels.
Jason sold his old Honda, and we used the money to buy a secondhand bedroom set, an “antique” round oak table with claw feet, and two chairs. We also bought a new sofa and television, which we will pay off quickly now that I have a part-time job at the FLW hospital…
1994
Dawn checked the calendar again, trying not to get her hopes up. When they moved into this little house a year ago, Jason had taken her birth control pills out of the medicine cabinet, looked her square in the eye, and with a grin, tossed them into the bathroom wastebasket. She’d been ecstatic, and she’d expected to get pregnant right away. After six months, she tried not to obsess. They’d thought she might be pregnant once, but the test had come up negative. But each day for the past two weeks, her hopes had been slowly building again. It was time to tell Jason.
Jason came home for lunch, as he did every day. Dawn never got over how handsome he was in his Army combat uniform. He left his hat on the hall table, kissed her, and frowned. “You look awfully pale.”
“I’m fine. Just… have something on my mind, that’s all.” She smoothed mayonnaise onto one slice of bread and mustard on another, laid on two thick slices of bologna, tomato, purple onion, lettuce.
Jason sat waiting. “Well?”
“I wondered if you could run an errand for me on your way home tonight.” She put Jason’s sandwich on a plate and put it in the refrigerator.
Laughing, he got up and retrieved it. “I guess I’d better, because you’re obviously not thinking straight. What is it?”
“Well, I thought we might want to take another pregnancy test.”
“Really? Okay. Will do. We’ll know tonight.” He set his plate on the table and made another sandwich for her. “Wait until my mother hears.”
“Don’t say anything to anyone, Jason.” Both sides of the family would be ecstatic. Georgia and Granny had been campaigning for a grandchild since Jason graduated and received his commission. Dawn thought they should wait until Jason received orders for his duty station.
Jason turned her around and kissed her. When she relaxed in his arms, he held her closer, his hands moving up and down her back, then resting on her hips. When he drew back, he gave her a purely male smile. “Doesn’t change how we feel.”
“Did you think it would?”
“It occurred to me.” He put his arm around her. “Maybe you should quit working.”
“Let’s talk about that when we have a firm answer.”
Jason came home with a small plastic bag from the pharmacy. She took it into the bathroom. When she came out, Jason sat on the edge of the bed, head bowed, hands clasped between his knees. She waited until he raised his head.
“Well?” He stared at her intently.
“Which way do you want it to go, Jason?”
He frowned. “Whichever way God wants it.” He tucked her hair back. “We can always keep trying.”
“You make it sound like work.” She ran her hands over his chest. “I guess it is time you took a vacation.”
It took him a few seconds to catch her meaning. Then he laughed, lifted her in his arms, and swung her around.
Mom didn’t shriek like Granny. “I’m happy if you’re happy, May Flower Dawn.” Dawn knew when her mother used her full name, she felt more deeply than she let on.
“I am happy, Mom. I’m so happy I could burst!”
“We’ve been thinking about flying out to see you. Would that be all right?”
“Of course!”
“We’ll fly into Branson as soon as Christopher is out of school. Second week of June. We’d love to have you and Jason meet us there. We’ll put you up in a nice hotel, eat out, and see some shows. You wouldn’t have to do a thing.”
Dawn chuckled. “Oh. I get it. You don’t want to stay in guest housing.”
“Oh, we’ll come up to Fort Leonard Wood for a few days. You’ve written about all you’ve done with the house. I’d like to see it. If that’s all right.”
“Mom! Of course! Any chance you could bring Granny with you? She’s been wanting to come, but she’s never been on an airplane before.” Nearing eighty, she was afraid to come alone. “We could help pay for her plane ticket.”
A momentary silence. “No, that’s fine, Dawn. We can take care of her ticket. I’m sure Granny would love to come along. Do you want to call and tell her? Or shall I?”
Dawn heard the subtle change in her mother’s voice, then realized she had hurt her feelings. “I’ll leave it up to you, Mom. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No. I should have thought of it first.” Voices in the background. “Christopher wants to talk to you.” Mom was gone, and Dawn’s little brother took her place. Although Dawn had to remind herself that he wasn’t “little” anymore; he’d just turned fifteen. And he’d been taller than she was the last time she’d seen him.
He talked nonstop for five minutes, excited about soccer, excited about summer, excited about coming to see her and Jason. “I want to see the Indian caves…” Dawn heard Mom say something to him. “Mom said to tell you she’ll call Granny as soon as we’re off the phone.”
Granny called an hour later, excited but nervous about flying, eager to see Dawn and Jason. “I hope we’ll have a little one-on-one time together, honey. I’ve missed you so much.”
One-on-one time meant cutting Mom out.
“I always end up hurting one of them,” Dawn told Jason over dinner.
“You probably won’t get any time alone with your mother.”
“No.” Dawn cleared dishes. “I won’t.” She had only herself to blame for that.
Granny, Mom, Mitch, and Christopher visited for only four days. It was nerve-racking trying to make sure she had time with Granny and Mom. She never had to worry about how to entertain Mitch and Christopher. They took off to see the Indian caves or talked Jason into going bowling “so the girls can talk.”
Granny talked. Mom didn’t get the chance to say much of anything.
Mom went out for long walks every afternoon. She always retreated when she felt uncomfortable. Dawn wondered if she did it so Granny could have more time with Dawn. If so, Granny didn’t return the favor. Even when the three of them sat together, the men off somewhere, Granny dominated the conversation, asking questions or reminiscing about Dawn as a baby, a toddler, a child.
Dawn was certain that they loved each other. They just didn’t know how to talk to each other. There was a lot of unfinished business between them. And she was a big part of it.
She hadn’t realized how stressful it would be having Mom and Granny together for four days. Not that anything untoward had been said. Jason had to get up early, and he found it hard to keep his eyes open after nine o’clock. Mitch would suggest it was time to head back to the Ramada Inn. Mom would then ask Granny if she was ready to go. It became a ritual, leaving it up to Granny to decide.
If there had been an extra bed in the second room instead of the new crib, Dawn would have asked Mom to spend the night. With Granny, Mitch, and Christopher back at the Ramada Inn, maybe she and Mom could’ve talked more.
Her mother never said much, but what she said counted.
Over the next few days, Dawn couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong. Granny called to thank her for the wonderful time. Now that Granny had been on an airplane, she might make the next trip on her own. “Your mom can drive me to the airport.”
Mom called, but didn’t talk long. Christopher talked for half an hour. He hadn’t cared all that much about the bright lights and entertainment in Branson, but he’d loved hanging out with Jason and hiking with Dad. They’d explored the bluffs above the Big Piney.
Dawn went to bed shortly after dinner. Jason followed. “Are you okay, honey?”
“Just tired.” Lying on her side, she went over her prayer list. She didn’t make it halfway through before sleep pulled her down.
She stood knee-deep in murky swamp water, surrounded by cypress trees with low-hanging Spanish moss. Something moved close by, rippling the water and making her heart quicken with fear. She moved carefully forward toward a savanna with solid ground and grassland undulating like a golden sea. The thick mud pulled at her feet. She managed another step. Gasping, she went deeper, the dark water around her rib cage. Her body felt like a heavy weight. Something slick slithered between her legs. Grasping hold of a cypress root, she kicked free. A broad, diamond-shaped head appeared, black eyes staring at her. The huge snake coiled around her middle. She groaned as the pain grew worse. She couldn’t get her breath.
A hand moved across her face. “Dawn.” Jason caressed her cheek. “Wake up, honey. You’re having a bad dream.”
She stared into the darkness; her heart still pounded. “Hold me, Jason.”
Jason tucked her into him. Wide-awake now, she felt it again. No dream this time. Her abdomen cramped. Searing pain spread downward. “Jason…”
Jason turned on the light. When she pushed the covers off, he sucked in his breath. “Don’t move! I’m calling 911.”
Dawn awakened in a hospital room, white ceiling overhead, white curtain blocking her view, an IV drip hanging beside the bed. A monitor beeped. Somewhere close by, Jason talked in a low voice, tone questioning. A stranger answered. “… lost a lot of blood… couple more hours in recovery… taking precautions… Try not to worry…”
Jason stepped around the curtain. He looked haggard and pale, but his expression filled with relief when he met her eyes. “You’re awake. Are you in pain?”
“No.” But she felt so tired she didn’t think she could move.
He took her hand and kissed it. “You’re going to be all right.”
She knew what that meant. She couldn’t see him through her tears. “Our baby, Jason,” she sobbed. “I lost our baby.”
Jason slipped his arms around her, and he held her close, his voice raspy. “I almost lost you.”
The nurse came in and added something to the IV. “She’ll sleep now.”
Dawn fought to keep her eyes open. “You should go home, Jason.”
“I’m staying.”
She awakened on the gurney as they moved through the hospital corridor to another room. Two orderlies lifted her gently onto a bed. Jason stepped around one of them and took her hand again. A nurse tucked warm covers around her, checked her vitals and the IV.
Rousing again later, she saw Jason in a chair beside her bed. He slept with his head on his crossed arms. Running her hand over the short-cropped hair, she thanked God she had a husband who loved her enough to stay so long at her side. He woke and leaned over her. “Do you need anything?”
“No.” Just him.
He sat down again and took her hand, rubbing it against his cheek. He needed a shave.
“You must be AWOL.”
“I called Cap.” Jason put his hand on her forehead. “Good. No fever.” He let out a deep breath. He looked older than his twenty-six years. “Try to go back to sleep. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Okay? Without their baby?
Once, at fifteen, she had feared she might be pregnant. Now, Dawn wondered if she and Jason would ever have children. God willing, someday. She would hold on to that hope.
Alicia came over to visit. Watching Lalo play made Dawn feel her loss more acutely. She grieved even more when she went to the commissary and saw young mothers with babies. Unwilling to burden Jason with her emotional state, she called Granny, who told her it wasn’t unusual to have a miscarriage and not to let it get her down. Then she talked about how wonderful it would be when Dawn had babies, how she’d forget all about the pain of losing this one.
On the phone, Mom listened while Dawn talked. Dawn had to ask her to say something. “I turned away from the Lord, Dawn, and I learned my lesson. I turned back because He was the only One who understood. He became my comfort.”
Dawn hadn’t opened her Bible in a week. “Why did you turn away?”
“I was afraid of Him.”
Dawn had learned to wait until Mom was ready to speak. Mom wasn’t uncomfortable with silence the way Granny was.
“I didn’t think God loved me. I thought everything that happened to me was punishment because I couldn’t measure up.”
“But now you know that’s not true. Don’t you?”
“Do you?”
Dawn cried then. She’d been asking herself for weeks what she had done wrong. “Oh, Mom…” Shoulders heaving, she sobbed into the telephone.
“I learned God loves me. Even when I felt down for the count, May Flower Dawn. He loves you that way, too. He’ll lift you up. Just hold out your hands and give your sorrow to Him.”
1996
Jason got orders for Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Dawn admonished herself for being surprised. After three years at Fort Leonard Wood, she forgot Jason could be transferred anytime and anywhere the Army wanted. She’d just put in roses. She wouldn’t be around when they bloomed.
The inspecting officer came through. All the walls would have to be repainted white. She had known the rules, but the thought of her hard work being undone depressed her.
Jason hired two privates to paint the interior walls on their off-duty hours. They needed the extra money. Dawn needed their help. The Army movers arrived. Dawn supervised. She had all the boxes labeled and kept an inventory list in her purse. As soon as the moving van left, Jason and Dawn threw two suitcases into the trunk of the Sable and headed out.
Jason had leave before reporting in at Fort Bragg. So they took the scenic route, wanting to see more of the country on the way. They spent nights in St. Louis, Nashville, and Chattanooga. After the flatlands and wind of Fort Sill and the low hills and bluffs of Fort Leonard Wood, Dawn drank in the beauty of the Great Smoky Mountains. They took their time driving the Blue Ridge Parkway, stopping at overlooks, snapping pictures of one another, and staying two nights in a bed-and-breakfast. Fall had come with a burst of reds, oranges, and yellows among the myriad evergreens.
Fort Bragg wasn’t like little Fort Lost in the Woods. It had over 170,000 inhabitants, schools, churches, hospitals, golf courses, bowling alleys, and theaters. It even had a mall! While Jason worked, Dawn drove around, getting acclimated to her new surroundings. When the Sable broke down, Jason decided it was time to sell it and buy another car. Dawn spotted a van and said it would come in handy when she started going to garage and estate sales. Jason took it for a test drive, had a mechanic look it over, and made an offer. After a few months, with things so spread out, Jason decided they both needed transportation and bought a used GMC Jimmy. Dawn teased him about his “cheap jeep.”
Their new house was twice the size of the last.
Uninspired, she made a replica of their last master bedroom, turned another into an office, and left the door of the last bedroom closed. The living room looked bare and uninteresting. She needed to find one piece of something to inspire her, so she drove eighty miles up to Raleigh to see an art sale. Within the first hour, she found what she needed to fire her imagination: an oil-painted reproduction of John William Waterhouse’s Knight. The handsome young man in full armor sat on a stone wall, his sword set aside, a beautiful red-haired lady kneeling at his feet with her hand over his and an expression of adoration.
“You like that, huh?” The vendor, an old man with thinning gray hair and one arm missing, said he had worked twenty years for a museum in New York, painting reproductions of various masters.
“It’s gorgeous.” She could see the whole living room coming together around it.
He wanted three hundred dollars for the painting. Dawn’s heart sank. He might as well have asked for a million. Dawn smiled with regret, told him it was worth that and more. Unfortunately a knight’s wife couldn’t afford it.
She searched for two more hours and came up empty-handed. She had to get home so she’d be in time to fix dinner.
“Milady,” the old vendor called to her as she came abreast of his booth. “I still have it.”
Surprised, she walked over. “No offers at all?”
“Oh, I had offers, but none that made me want to hand it over. I took a lot of time on this one. It’s special.” The old man propped it up so she had to look at it again. “Is your husband as handsome as the knight?”
Dawn studied the painting and smiled. “As handsome as that knight is, mine is more so. Thanks for letting me look at it again. I know you’ll find the right buyer.” She started to walk away.
He called after her. “Where would you hang it if you could afford it?”
She turned and looked at him. “In the living room, of course, where everyone would see it first thing when they walked in. And I’d tell everyone who did the reproduction, if he gave me his card.”
“Well, that’s a whole lot better than having it hang in a guest room.” He wagged his fingers at her. “Give me whatever you’ve got before I change my mind. Okay, okay. Calm down. You’re welcome. I’ll even wrap it for you.”
Dawn drove home, singing praise songs. She couldn’t wait to get started!
Jason noticed the painting when he walked in the door. He stood in the living room staring at it. Dawn slipped her arm through his. “Romantic, isn’t it?”
He grinned at her. “I can hardly wait to see what you do with the rest of the place.”
A laugh bubbled out of her. “A man’s home should be his castle. Don’t you think?”
He pulled her close. “It’s good to hear you laugh again, Dawn.”
They both knew why she hadn’t.
1997
They’d been stationed at Fort Bragg six months when Dawn took a home pregnancy test. She hadn’t mentioned the morning sickness. She didn’t want to get Jason’s hopes up or worry him. When she checked the test results, joy flooded her. Fear quickly followed. She saw it in Jason’s eyes, too, when she told him the news.
He pulled her close. “If you are pregnant, you’re quitting work. We’re not taking any chances.”
She’d already decided that. Two ladies from her Wednesday Bible study had offered to pay her to help decorate their houses, so they could easily do without her part-time nursing income.
Jason held her hand tightly in the examining room as the nurse practitioner moved the monitor over Dawn’s abdomen. They both heard the baby’s heartbeat at the same time. Jason frowned. “It’s so fast.” The nurse and Dawn smiled and assured him it should be.
Jason wanted to call their families that night, but Dawn asked him to wait. He asked why. “I don’t know, Jason. I just… I don’t know.” She couldn’t dispel the feeling something might go wrong.
At five months, Jason insisted. “You’re fine. You haven’t been sick for two months. The baby is growing. So are you!”
Dawn gave in.
Georgia and Granny were ecstatic. So were Christopher and Mitch. When Mom came on the phone, Dawn poured out her fears. Mom didn’t dismiss them. “I’ll pray for you, May Flower Dawn.” Dawn knew it wasn’t a platitude.
Granny called every few days to check on her. Dawn called Mom and did most of the talking.
At six months, Dawn sensed something wrong. The flutters had stopped. Rather than wait for her scheduled checkup, she called the doctor. Jason went with her. The stethoscope felt ice-cold on her abdomen. The doctor moved it several times, listening intently. His expression became increasingly grim. Jason stroked her shoulders. “It’s going to be okay,” he said again and again, like a litany of prayer.
When the doctor straightened, Dawn held her breath. “I’m sorry.” He looked at Jason first, then Dawn. “There’s no heartbeat.”
Jason stood silent, his hands gripping her shoulders. He looked down at her, love and tears spilling from his eyes. “It’s going to be okay, Dawn.”
She sobbed. They both knew nothing was okay.
The doctor admitted Dawn to the hospital and induced labor. Dawn gave birth to a perfectly formed little boy who weighed just under two pounds.
It would take longer to get over the loss this time.
Jason took Dawn home to California for Christmas. They spent the first few nights with Georgia, Christmas Eve and Day with Mom, Mitch, and Christopher, home on break from his first year at Stanford.
Granny came in from Jenner, but kept pressing them to come out and stay with her on the coast. Approaching her eighty-first birthday, she had aged. Her hair was almost completely gray now, and she bore signs of osteoporosis. Mom, who had turned fifty last spring, still wore long, colorful tiered skirts and tunics with leather belts. Her hair had streaks of silver. Mom still didn’t ask for Granny’s help, and Granny no longer offered. Dawn could see the rift had widened. Granny talked to Dawn and spared some attention for Jason, Mitch, and Christopher. Mom listened from the kitchen.
No one talked about the baby, though Dawn knew her stillborn son was on everyone’s mind. Christopher sat beside her on the couch and took her hand. He had grown six inches since she last saw him. He called her his little-big sister now. He had Mitch’s dark red hair and their mother’s blue eyes. “You’re turning into a hunk, Chris.”
Mitch laughed. “He’s got girls calling him all the time. The phone hasn’t stopped ringing since he got home last week.”
Christopher blushed to the roots of his hair.
“Good for you. You’ve always been good at making friends.” Dawn tried to keep things light. It was Christmas, after all. Had all gone well, she would have had a newborn in her arms.
And a child shall be born to you…
Jason agreed to go to Jenner. They spent the last four days with Granny. Dawn and Jason walked on the beach every afternoon. They sat on the sand and watched the waves. On the last night, he went to bed before she did. Granny broached the subject everyone else had avoided. “You’ll have a baby, Dawn. I know it. I feel it!”
Dawn cried and blew her nose. She felt like Hannah in the Old Testament, begging God for a child. “It’s up to God, Granny. I have to accept that it may not be His will for me.”
“Nonsense. You have time, honey. You’re young. Keep trying.”
Dawn knew trying wasn’t the answer. God was. And she was going to trust Him with her future, no matter how difficult it might be right now.
On the long flight home, Dawn dreamed she sat on the beach north of Goat Rock. The wind blew warmer than usual, sun sparkling off turquoise and green waves. Dawn felt the wind in her hair, the sun on her face. Granny and Mom sat nearby, talking together as they never had before. A little girl with long blonde hair pranced along the edge of the waves. Water splashed up like white flashing lights around the child’s knees. She flapped her arms like a bird learning to fly. Now and then, she stooped and picked up a sea-washed rock, a bit of driftwood, a seagull feather, then raced up the beach to show off her treasures. Dawn got up and went down to join the child. She danced with her in the frothy, foaming waves. She felt happy. She felt free.
Dawn awakened in the darkness, the hum of jet engines soothing. Jason slept, his knees wedged against the seat in front of him. She saw the moon outside the airplane window and city lights below. She felt at peace for the first time since losing the baby, hope rising inside her like a sunrise.
Jason awakened and took her hand. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” More than okay. “I had a wonderful dream, Jason.” She told him all about it.
“Sounds like a promise.”
“It was.”
1998
Dawn painted the spare bedroom a pale pink. She added furnishings: a crib; a white dresser; a gliding rocker; a plush, pale blue area rug. She hung an embroidered alphabet sampler she found at a garage sale.
As each month passed, Jason seemed less certain. He brought up adoption. She said, yes, that was something they might consider. Eventually. His suggestion didn’t diminish her faith. The dream would come to pass. In God’s perfect timing-not hers, not Jason’s.
“You know I can get transferred at any time, Dawn.”
“I know.”
“You’re putting a lot of time in that bedroom.” The house didn’t belong to them. “We may have to move. What then?”
“We’ll take the furniture. I’ll start over.”
Jason’s six-year commitment to the Army was coming to an end, too. By next year he would need to make a decision about his future. They talked about what Jason could do as a civilian. The opportunities seemed endless.
“If I stay in the Army, I’d only have fourteen more years before I could retire. I’d still be young enough to start another career.” She asked if that’s what he wanted, if he believed that was what God wanted him to do. Jason said yes.
“We may still get transferred, Dawn. There’s no guarantee we’re going to stay here.”
Dawn knew what really worried Jason, what worried him all the time. He feared she might be crushed if she didn’t become pregnant again soon. She told him God was sovereign. God was trustworthy. Whatever happened, they could trust God with the outcome. Even so, she kept the door to the baby’s room closed, so he wouldn’t have the constant reminder. She held God’s promise close to her heart.
Even after a year, Dawn didn’t lose hope.
When two passed, then three, the ache grew, but her faith didn’t diminish.
2001
Dolores, one of Dawn’s Bible study ladies, called. She sounded on the verge of hysteria. “Are you watching your television?”
“No. Why?”
“Two airliners just crashed into the twin towers of the World Trade Center!”
Dawn sat frozen in front of the television for the rest of the day. She watched the World Trade Center buildings crumble in a cloud of dust and debris over and over. She listened to minute-by-minute reports on how terrorists had hijacked two airliners out of Boston, another hijacked jetliner crashed into the Pentagon, and a fourth went down in a Pennsylvania field after passengers on board the aircraft called family members on cell phones and learned how the other airliners had been used. They fought back, or the fourth plane might have gone into the White House. No one knew yet how many had died. Fifty thousand people worked in and around the World Trade Center.
The front door opened. Dawn jumped up. “Jason!” She flew into his arms.
He held her close for a minute, rubbing his chin on the top of her head. “How long have you been watching the news?”
“All day. Jason, what does this mean for us?”
“We’re at war. That’s what it means.”
“Will you have to go?”
“We’ll have to find out who we’re fighting and where, first.”
Airports shut down. President George Bush flew into New York and stood at ground zero speaking to the rescue workers. He assured them the nation was on bended knee in prayer. When some cried out because they couldn’t hear, Bush said he could hear them, everyone could hear them, and those who had knocked down the buildings “will hear all of us soon!”
People chanted, “USA, USA…”
President Bush called out, “God bless America,” a hope all would cling to in the coming days.
Dawn spent her days reading newspaper stories about heroes: a man who stayed behind to help another man in a wheelchair-both died when the buildings crumbled; firefighters and police officers who worked tirelessly searching for survivors; cadaver dogs and their handlers searching the rubble. The Salvation Army responded to the tragedy. New Yorkers pulled together.
War loomed, but against what country?
Jason was deployed to New York to work with civil engineers. The mammoth job of clearing a city block began. Jason would be gone for months, maybe more if terrorists found other ways to blow up more Americans. Every newscaster speculated on what terrorists might do next-poison water systems, unleash deadly viruses, tote backpack-size atomic bombs.
People flooded into the churches for the first few weeks. Crowds dwindled after three months.
Jason came home to Fort Bragg on weekend leave, burning with anger against Osama bin Laden, who had denied responsibility for the attacks, though the U.S. government still considered him the prime suspect.
Exhausted, he slept twenty-four hours straight, leaving only half a day before he had to go back. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” Dawn said she’d come to him next time. Jason ordered her to stay home. He didn’t want her in New York. He wasn’t sure he wanted her at Fort Bragg. What better target for another attack than one of the biggest military bases in the world? He wanted her to go home. She said no. They argued. She cried after he left.
Jason returned to Fort Bragg after three months away. He and Dawn flew home for Christmas again. CCC was packed with new people. “You should have seen it after 9/11,” Mitch told them. Chris asked a dozen questions. Jason made it clear he didn’t want to talk about what he’d seen at ground zero. Granny worried about war and what part Jason would have to play in it. Dawn still prayed diplomacy would work. Mitch and Jason talked behind closed doors. Mom and Dawn had tea and didn’t talk at all.
2002
When Dawn and Jason returned to Fort Bragg, Jason bought a new laptop computer and a Rosetta Stone program on Arabic. “If I get sent anywhere, it’ll be the Middle East.”
Everyone knew it was only a matter of time before the Army started deploying troops. America couldn’t ignore the murder of three thousand citizens. It was a miracle there hadn’t been tens of thousands. But three thousand was more than the number of lives lost at Pearl Harbor, and the country couldn’t let it go.
Dawn knew the waiting had come to an end when Jason came home and said he had orders to Fort Dix, New Jersey. Dawn packed and followed. She rented a two-bedroom, one-bathroom bungalow off base. She didn’t paint the walls. Every hour with Jason was too precious to waste.
2003
The first U.S. troops were deployed to the Persian Gulf region on January 1. On March 17, President Bush issued an ultimatum to Saddam Hussein, giving him forty-eight hours to leave the country or face war. On March 19, the deadline passed, and Operation Iraqi Freedom began. By April, they took Baghdad and toppled Saddam Hussein’s statue to Iraqi and American cheers.
The hunt for weapons of mass destruction intensified. Hussein had used chemical weapons on the Kurds. Had he buried bombs in the desert the same way he had buried airplanes? Had they been sold and scattered to neighboring countries? Or had it all been an empty boast by a mad dictator?
May rolled around, and Jason received orders for deployment to Iraq. Dawn wept. They made love the way they had when they were first married-hungry, with abandon. They said everything they wanted to say to one another, knowing they might never have another opportunity.
“It’s up to God.” He held her close. “There’s a time for peace, and there’s a time for war. Remember Nehemiah. He ordered the people to keep their weapons close at hand while they worked. The biggest job we’re going to face in Iraq is rebuilding the country, giving the Iraqi people the protection and resources they need to hold on to the freedom they’ve never had before. I’ll have my weapon strapped to me, Dawn. We’re trained to watch each other’s back.”
Jason wanted no public displays of affection when she saw him off. She had to be brave and tearless for his sake. He kissed her. “Write to me.” He spoke roughly, his hands gripping her head. He kissed her again. “I’ll e-mail you when I can.”
She took his hand in both of hers before he walked away. “May the Lord bless you and keep you, Jason. He goes ahead of you. He stands at your side. He dwells within you. He is your rear guard.” And though she saw tears in his hazel eyes, she smiled at him and said the rest. “This isn’t our home, Jason. Heaven is. And there, nothing can ever part us.”
Two months later, at the end of July, Dawn sent her sixtieth e-mail, knowing it might be days before Jason could read it.
God is good, Jason. He always keeps His promises. Our baby is due on Valentine’s Day. The doctor won’t know the baby’s gender for a few more months, but I told him God already promised us a little girl. She’s going to have blonde hair, and she’s going to run on the beach, collect rocks and seashells and bird feathers, and dance at the edge of the sea…
Jason e-mailed whenever he could.
Hey, Mama, I miss you so much I ache. I started a Bible study with three men in my unit. We’re rebuilding a hospital. We’re reading Nehemiah. Thought it appropriate. We do a lot of praying as we work.
… went into one of Saddam Hussein’s palaces. Marble floors, mosaics, pillars, fountains-the guy had it. Figured he was the next Nebuchadnezzar. Must have forgotten the end of the story-the king on his hands and knees eating grass like an animal. God said pride comes before a fall.
I wish I could see you getting as round as a pumpkin, big as a house, weighing in at 185 with my baby inside you…
Dawn wrote letters every day. She wanted Jason to have something at mail call, not just on his computer.
Hello, my love.
I went for my checkup this morning and heard our daughter’s heartbeat. I may not weigh 185 pounds yet, but everything is fine. I walk two miles every evening (yes, dear, before it gets dark). Since everyone works, this is the best time to meet people.
Only Maura Kerwin and LaShaye Abbot have come for tea. Neither is ready to commit to a Bible study. Maura’s husband (Mick) just got shipped over. LaShaye is pregnant for the third time in four years. They’re still paying hospital bills for the last baby. Rory told her to get an abortion. I got weepy and told them about our lost babies. LaShaye left.
I keep remembering the prayer Mom gave me when you and I weren’t seeing each other. “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can’t change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Thy will, not mine, be done.” I’ve been saying it a lot lately…
A suicide bomber blew himself up in the middle of a market this morning. He took innocent women and children with him. All in the name of his god! These people need to hear the gospel, and we’re forbidden to evangelize. I’ll probably get busted, but I’m not going to be silent when given an opportunity to talk about the difference between Allah and Jesus. Only Christ can make men free! The enemy of our souls wants to keep these people captive…
LaShaye didn’t come for tea. So I dropped by. She couldn’t even look at me. I told her I love her and I’m praying for her. If she ever wants to talk, my door is open. She closed hers, and I haven’t seen her since. Maura came. She and LaShaye were friends long before I came on the scene. Maura took her to the clinic.
I pray. I still take my walks.
Picture attached. Notice the nice little bulge under my new sweater!
Thanks for the photo! You look beautiful. But so thin! You look like you’re losing weight instead of gaining. Are you eating enough? Maybe you shouldn’t be walking so much…
I don’t have to look like a pumpkin or a house to be healthy, Jason. I’m eating constantly. I don’t know why I’m not gaining a lot of weight. Must be my metabolism. The doctor said walking is good for me. Don’t worry-I’m not overdoing it.
Good news! LaShaye came over. We talked for hours! She and Rory are struggling. I found a crisis pregnancy center in the area. They have a postabortion class. I said I’d take her and sit with her if that would help. I’m praying LaShaye and Rory can work things out. They have enough grief between them without discarding their marriage.
I have another checkup tomorrow. I know everything is fine, Jason. I’ve been feeling our little girl move for a couple weeks now. Only four months to go before I meet her face-to-face.
Dawn gulped down sobs as she headed home from her prenatal appointment. The doctor had put her through a battery of tests over the last two weeks and insisted that she see a specialist besides. He gave her the results this morning. “We have a problem…” She had sat stunned and silent as he talked in quiet, grim tones, hands folded on his desk. “I advise you not to wait, Dawn. I know it’s going to be difficult for you, especially with your history, but the alternative is-”
“You don’t need to say any more!” Dawn had stood abruptly, slinging her bag over her shoulder with shaking hands.
“Please sit down, Mrs. Steward. We need to discuss this. The longer you wait, the more-”
“I understand everything you’ve said, Doctor. I was a nurse.” And she wouldn’t do it! She’d rather die than do it.
She yanked the door open and walked out.
Two other pregnant mothers sat in the waiting room. Dawn managed to get out the door before the tears came. She sat in her car until she thought she had regained enough control to drive home. Now she couldn’t even see the road. Swiping tears away, she pulled onto the shoulder, jammed on her parking brake, and put on her emergency lights. Gripping the wheel, she screamed. “Why, Lord? Why? I don’t understand!”
Cars flew past. Sobbing, Dawn ran her hands over the slight bulge in her belly. A police officer tapped on her window. She hadn’t even noticed the cruiser pull in behind her. She let her window down and fumbled through her shoulder bag for her license. She found the car registration in the glove compartment. He glanced at them and handed them back. Leaning down, he looked at her. “Anything wrong, ma’am?”
“I’ve just had some very bad news.” She gulped down sobs. “I’m sorry. I just thought it’d be safer for everyone if I sat here for a little while. Is that okay?” She wiped her cheeks.
“I noticed the Fort Dix base sticker on your car.”
“My husband’s in Iraq.”
“Sit until you’re ready, ma’am.” The officer walked back to his cruiser. She glanced in the rearview mirror. He talked into his radio. She thought he’d drive away, but he didn’t. Regaining some control over her emotions, Dawn took the brake off, put on her blinker, and pulled out onto the highway again. The police cruiser pulled out right behind her. He stayed with her all the way to off-base housing, gave her a salute, and kept going.
Dawn raised her hand in thanks. God puts angels all around us. Some in uniform.
Dumping her keys on the coffee table, Dawn sank onto the couch. She felt her baby move and ran her hand over her abdomen. “What am I going to tell your daddy, sweetie?” She hadn’t mentioned the tests to Jason. Why worry him? He needed to keep his mind on what was happening around him, not on her and the baby. Now, she didn’t dare tell him.
Lord, help me. Please help me.
Someone knocked on the door. Dawn didn’t answer. They knocked again. She waited before going to the front door. Peering through the peephole, she watched LaShaye walk down the path to the sidewalk where Maura stood waiting. They both talked for a few minutes, then went their separate ways.
Dawn went into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and undressed while she waited for the water to get warm. Stepping in, she closed the glass door and let the water rain down on her.
Lord, You breathed out the universe. You made the stars in the heavens, the earth, everything. Nothing is too difficult for You! You made me Your vessel. Your Holy Spirit lives within me. You opened my womb so I could carry this child. You showed her to me. I saw my daughter on the beach, dancing, flapping her arms like a little bird. She is strong. She is full of the life You gave her. Oh, God, You are merciful! Please. Be merciful.
She didn’t stop praying or get out of the shower until the warm water gave out.
Dawn fixed a square meal and sat alone in the dining room. She needed to eat, whether she felt like it or not. She and the baby needed nourishment. The telephone rang.
I’m not ready to talk, Lord, not to anyone but You.
The answering machine picked up. “It’s Granny, sweetheart. Just thinking about you and wanted to talk. You said something about joining the choir. You’re probably at church. Call back when you have a minute. I love you.”
Church. She’d forgotten about the choir. Those sweet old ladies would take one look at her and want to know what was wrong. They’d have all kinds of wisdom to share.
She’d already made her decision. No matter what the doctor said, she would have this baby. She’d face everything else later.
She had to e-mail Jason. If a day passed and she didn’t, he would wonder why. He always checked dates. Did he look at the times, too? It was getting late. She put her dish and utensils in the dishwasher, then went to the computer.
What was she going to say to him? She didn’t like keeping secrets from her husband, but she couldn’t write about what she’d been told today.
Hands resting on the keyboard, she tried to think. She double-clicked the e-mail icon; nothing from Jason today, but several others, including one from her brother. Christopher wrote like he talked. He was taking classes part-time toward a master’s degree. He had a job at a trendy, expensive restaurant.
Hardest part of the job is warding off advances from cougars. Even when I turn them down, they leave nice tips. I’ll have enough saved to go to London this summer.
Leaning on her elbows, Dawn rubbed her temples.
I will trust in You, Lord, no matter what happens. I believe the dream You gave me on the airplane about our little girl. I believe, Father! Oh, God, help my unbelief.
Dawn clicked New Mail and typed Ja and Jason’s address filled the send-to line. Subject? How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. Words flowed out of her as she recounted the first time she’d seen Jason in the high school corridor, then being dragged by Christopher to CCC VBS and working with Jason. His faith and dedication to God had awed her. She had felt blessed every time he told her he loved her. When they broke up, she set her heart and mind upon becoming like the wife in Proverbs 31, a woman of character, substance, faith, and purpose-for God and for whomever He might have in store for her, never dreaming He would give the two of them a second chance. She reminisced about their wedding day and the intense joy he’d given her on their wedding night and every time he’d made love to her since.
I just miss you so much, Jason. I wish I could curl up with your arms around me. I wish…
Weeping, Dawn got up without sending the message. She puttered, fluffing pillows, wandering through the house, trying to step back, trying to think more clearly and not allow her emotions to rule. After an hour, she went back and reread what she had written. He would know something was wrong. She deleted everything and started again.
I saw the doctor again today. Our daughter is strong and healthy. I can feel her moving inside me right now as I write this note. Maybe she’s waving hello to her daddy. Your wife and daughter have both had a big day today. I’m exhausted. I’m going to make this short and head for bed.
I love you so much, Jason. I pray constantly that God will command angels to guard you. Remember Elisha and how he opened Gehazi’s eyes so he could see the fiery chariots all around? The Lord is with you. He hears our prayers. I’ll love you forever, Jason.
Always yours,
Dawn
Dawn dreamed about Granny and Mom. They argued over something, but Dawn couldn’t hear what. They turned their backs to one another, both weeping. Dawn wanted to call out to them, but she’d lost her voice.
She awakened as the sun came in the window. It had snowed the night before, and everything lay beneath a cover of white. She sat at the dining room table, where she could see everything, and opened her Bible. She couldn’t get Granny and Mom out of her mind. She felt an intense longing for both of them. She wasn’t Moses, but wouldn’t it be nice to have her mother holding up one arm and Granny holding up the other as Dawn beseeched God for victory in the battle she now faced? But another picture came to mind. Granny pulling one way and Mom the other.
2004
Dawn had made excuses not to fly home for the holidays. Just before Thanksgiving, she’d passed the six-month mark in her pregnancy and breathed easier. The baby had an excellent chance of survival now, even if she should come early. But Dawn still prayed every day for a full-term, healthy delivery for their daughter.
Mom had said she’d fly to Newark when Dawn got closer to delivery. And then, just as she always did, Dawn had said it would be nice to have Granny come, too.
Why did she have to choose between them?
As Christmas came and went, she found herself wishing she were at home. Now, January rolled around. She’d have a birthday soon. What do I do, Lord? Dawn covered her face. Lord, I want to go home!
She couldn’t fly now. It was too risky to fly at seven and a half months. She could drive. Four thousand miles alone, in winter? Jason would have a fit!
Jason didn’t have to know.
Dawn shrugged into her heavy parka and went out for a walk. It was midmorning. Blank spaces on the street showed where cars had been during the snowfall last night. Everyone had gone to work by now. Maura worked at a co-op preschool. LaShaye never stepped outside her door. Okay, Lord, if I’m supposed to drive home to California, Maura and LaShaye will be home and both will want to talk with me.
She’d just passed LaShaye’s when the front door opened. “Dawn! Wait a minute!” LaShaye hurried down the path to the sidewalk. “You look awful. Is Jason all right?”
“He’s fine.”
She took Dawn by the arm. “Come inside out of the cold. I’ll fix some tea. Tell me what’s going on.” The phone was ringing when they walked in. Maura wanted to come over.
An hour later, they all sat crying in LaShaye’s kitchen. LaShaye gripped Dawn’s arm. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going home to California. I want to be with my family. I’m going to need Mom and Granny’s help. The hard part is going to be getting them to work things out between them so they can.”
Maura held out her hands. “What can we do?”
Dawn took hold. “I have to call the landlord, then call the base to store our furniture. Or sell some of it. I don’t know which.”
“If you’re driving across the country, you should have your car serviced,” LaShaye said. “Rory can do that for you.”
Between the three of them, they worked out the details. Dawn held out her hands. Maura and LaShaye each took one. “It’s been a pleasure, ladies.” She blinked back tears. “I didn’t have as long as I wanted with you.”
LaShaye squeezed tight. “Maybe we ought to pray.”
Dawn thanked God for these friends. “Yes. Please.” She felt a quiver of apprehension at the journey ahead of her. “And don’t stop.”
Dawn made all her calls the next morning. She didn’t think the landlord would return the security deposit, but when he heard the reasons, he brought the check over that afternoon. She bought a new laptop so she could continue e-mailing Jason every day on the long drive home. She studied routes on MapQuest. She decided against the straight route across the country. She didn’t want to go through Colorado and deal with heavy snows. Better to go south.
Maura came over when the movers arrived. Everything would be stored until Jason returned from Iraq. Suitcases packed, Dawn spent the night with Maura.
“How long do you think it’ll take, Dawn?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to take it one day at a time.” She would need to get out and walk around every hour or risk thrombophlebitis and edema. Main highways had rest stops. She planned to use them. “I’ll drive until I need rest.”
“The weather’s bad all across the country. You couldn’t have picked a worse time to travel.”
“I don’t have a lot of choice. I can’t wait.”
“You should have someone with you.”
“I will. I’ll have Jesus. He’ll get me home.”
She got up early the next morning, showered, dressed, and left a note on the kitchen counter beside the coffeepot.
Dear Maura,
Thanks for everything. I’ll be in touch. May the Lord bless you and yours.
Love, Dawn
For the first time in days, it didn’t snow.
Dawn knew, even before she had driven the short distance to Baltimore, the trip would test her physical and emotional endurance. She took one hour at a time, trying not to think how many miles she had to go. Each afternoon, after checking into a hotel and having dinner, she hooked up the laptop.
She wrote regular e-mails to Jason, as though still in New Jersey. She wrote about the baby, tidbits of good news she found in whatever newspapers she picked up in hotel lobbies, anything that might keep his spirits bolstered, and not hint she was driving cross-country alone, nearly eight months pregnant, in January. Once the e-mail was sent and the others answered, she unhooked and packed away the computer, watched television weather reports, and went to bed. After a week on the road, she awakened with night sweats and back pain. She lay in the darkness praying God would give her strength and peace of mind. She had a long, long way to go.
Christian music stations kept her spirits up throughout the day. When she made it to Oklahoma City, she felt more at home. She thought of the friends she and Jason had made, all scattered now like seeds in the wind. Some had settled in other U.S. bases, others in Germany; many had gone to Iraq. A few hadn’t made it home.
After a good night’s rest, she pushed on to Amarillo, Texas.
The baby moved vigorously, reminding her of why she was on this trip. Dawn draped her arm over her expanding abdomen. She wanted desperately to call home, but knew if she did, Mom and Mitch would be frantic. They worried enough already. “Be good, little one. Hang in there! You need to grow a little more. You need to be strong for Mommy.”
It took three days to drive from Amarillo to Flagstaff, Arizona. Pushing harder, Dawn made it all the way to Barstow the next day, but got no farther than Buttonwillow the day after. One more day, she told herself. God, help me. One more day and she could rest.
Dawn dreamed she stood on a stone arch over a black chasm. Granny stood on solid ground on one side and Mom on the other. The bridge began crumbling beneath Dawn’s feet. Granny and Mom both reached out and caught hold. Both called for the other to let go. Dawn begged them to stop! Please stop! Gripped by pain, she cried out. Her child broke free of her body and dropped into the darkness below.
Exhausted, Dawn pulled in next to Georgia Steward’s trailer and parked. Rain pounded on the roof of the car and slicked over the windshield. Mrs. Edwards peered through her living room curtains. Dawn barely had strength to get out of the car. She hadn’t walked often enough today, and her legs felt swollen and stiff. The baby had turned and now pressed down heavily inside her. Gripping the rail, Dawn climbed the few steps and knocked on the door.
“Dawn!” After a split second of shock, Georgia stepped outside and hugged her. “You’ve been on my mind for days. I called, but couldn’t get through. Your mom said she talked to you the other day and everything was fine.”
Dawn leaned on Georgia as they went inside. She had kept to her schedule of calling Granny and Mom. She apologized for not calling Georgia. “I’m sorry. I’ve been driving for days…”
“You drove?”
“I couldn’t fly. I was past seven months.” Dawn sank gratefully onto the sofa and let out a deep sigh of relief.
“Honey, you look pale as a ghost.” Georgia lifted Dawn’s feet onto the couch. “Your ankles are swollen. Lie back.” She tucked a pillow under Dawn’s feet and put a blanket over her. “Are you hungry? thirsty?”
Dawn smiled weakly. “Both.” She hadn’t stopped for dinner, too eager to finish the long journey and rest. “But don’t go to a lot of trouble, please.”
Georgia opened the refrigerator. “Now I know why God had me praying for you.”
Covered with the blue fleece, Dawn listened to the rain pounding the metal roof of Georgia’s trailer. She could barely keep her eyes open. Georgia brushed her forehead. “You’re perspiring.” Her mother-in-law leaned over her, brow furrowed with worry.
“Night sweats.”
“And fever, too. I’ll find some Tylenol. Can you sit up and eat?”
Struggling into a sitting position, Dawn gave a weary laugh. “My center of gravity is off.” The baby moved strongly. “Our little Steward is protesting.” Dawn took Georgia’s hand and held it against the side of her abdomen. “I think that’s her foot.”
Georgia sat beside her. Heads together, they waited for the baby to stretch again. They didn’t have to wait long, and this time the baby kicked. Georgia laughed. “A soccer player like her mama.” She patted Dawn’s swollen abdomen. “We should call your mom. Let her know you got here.”
“No one knew I was coming.”
“No one?”
“I didn’t want everyone fretting the entire time I drove.”
“What about Jason?”
Dawn shook her head, but the question served to remind her. “I need to get the laptop out of the car and e-mail him, or he’ll wonder what happened to me.”
Georgia looked troubled. “What’s going on?”
Dawn fought tears. She shook her head and looked away, struggling with her rising emotions. She had done nothing but ponder her circumstances and plead with God for days. She didn’t have the strength to talk about what was wrong. Now now. Not tonight. Swallowing her tears, Dawn met Georgia’s worried gaze. “Don’t call anyone. I’ll explain everything in the morning.”
Pushing the covers off, Dawn was thankful the swelling in her ankles had gone down. Her stomach growled. Georgia had left a blue velour robe on the end of the bed. Pulling it on, Dawn opened the door. The rain had stopped. Daylight streamed in the living room window. Georgia set aside her book and got up from her easy chair. “You look better. How do you feel?”
“Rested. Can I take a shower?”
“After dinner.”
“Dinner?” She noticed the table had already been set.
“You’ve slept eighteen hours.” Slipping on mitts, Georgia opened the oven and took out a casserole dish. “I hope you like lasagna.”
“Love it.” She pushed her fingers back through her hair.
Georgia set it on a trivet in the center of the table. She opened the refrigerator and took out a tossed green salad and small carafe of dressing. “Milk or water?”
“Milk.” The baby needed protein.
Georgia said the blessing and filled Dawn’s salad bowl. She scooped lasagna onto Dawn’s plate. “We should call your family doctor and get you in for an appointment. You’re still awfully pale. And so thin.”
“I need to work things out with Granny and Mom first.”
“They’re both in for a shock when they find out you’re here.” Georgia served herself a smaller portion. “Are you ready to tell me what’s going on?”
Dawn had had days to plan her words, but found them stilted and tremulous now. Georgia didn’t utter a word or eat a bite. Dawn didn’t have much appetite either by the time she finished. But she had a good reason to eat at least half of what Georgia had served her, and she intended to do so, even if it took an hour.
“I don’t believe it, Dawn.” Georgia’s mouth wobbled. “God wouldn’t do that to you.” She pressed her lips together. “Jason should have some say about this. You can’t leave him in the dark.”
“Jason needs to know when to duck. He doesn’t need to be worrying about us.”
“You and the baby are not distractions. You’re his family!”
Georgia’s fierceness frightened Dawn. “Georgia. I’m begging you. Don’t tell him! He worries about me and the baby enough already.” Her eyes filled. There was a time to be gentle and a time to be blunt, even if it bordered on cruelty. “I don’t want Jason coming home in a body bag.”
Georgia closed her eyes in anguish.
“Pray. That’s what I need you to do, Georgia. That’s why I came to you first. I have to get Granny and Mom to work together and help me through this. I have to get them in one place. And they’ve never been able to talk. I have to be the bridge this time, not the wall between them.”
Dawn called Mitch at his office. She told him everything and what she wanted to do. “I have to spend time with them both, alone. Can you help that to happen?”
He cleared his throat before speaking. “You sure you don’t want to have your grandmother come to our place?”
“Granny will do better in her own territory. I’m going to call her and have her call Mom to invite her out there. Don’t tell Mom anything yet, okay?”
“I’m not sure how your mom will do. I don’t think either one of them realizes how they’ve pitted themselves against each other.”
“God got me home, Mitch. He’ll get us through all the rest.”
“What about Chris?”
“You can tell him after Mom leaves for Jenner.” She wiped tears from her cheeks. “Tell him I’ll see him in a few days and we can talk then. And…” She had to swallow and draw a slow breath before she could go on. “Pray. Pray hard.”
“I am. Right now and every minute from here on out.” He made a hoarse sound. “Pita?” He spoke gruffly. “I’ve always loved you like you were my own flesh and blood.”
“I know. Dad.”
Dawn called Granny. “I want to spend a few days with you and Mom at Jenner.”
“When do you plan to come home? spring? The baby will be-”
“I’m here, Granny.”
“Here? Where? Alexander Valley?”
“I’m staying with Georgia right now. Mom doesn’t know I’m home yet.”
“Why didn’t you come out and stay with me?”
“I wanted to see my mother-in-law, too. And I was pretty tired when I got here.”
“Well, come now. We can visit for a few days and then call your mom.”
She needed to make things clear. “I’m not coming out until Mom’s there. I don’t want her feelings hurt.”
“I would never hurt your mother’s feelings.”
“You’d never hurt her intentionally, Granny, and neither would I; but we both do it all the time, and it has to stop.”
“What’s happened, Dawn? Something’s wrong. Tell me.”
“When the three of us are together, Granny, we’re all going to talk.”
“I’ll call your mother as soon as we’re off the phone.”
“Let me know when she gets to Jenner. Then I’ll come.”
Georgia sat on the sofa, waiting. When Dawn sat down, Georgia took her hand. “So?”
“I don’t know where to start, Georgia. I’m not a psychologist. I don’t know what’s going to happen at Jenner.”
Georgia enfolded her in her arms and leaned back into the sofa so Dawn’s head rested against her shoulder. “God didn’t bring you home to let you down, honey. And I’m going to pray for a miracle.”
Dawn closed her eyes. “We need one.”