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.
24
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.”
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