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 b
ody 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.
37
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?”
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