Another Dawn (2 page)

“Roger still pushing for a boutique for Phoebe?”

He nodded. “Looks like it just might happen. Of course Darin and Mike would never vote against him, and the rest of us can’t come up with a better proposal.”

“Who knows? She’s a bright girl; she could probably make it work.”

“You’re probably right, and there’s nothing bad I can say about her . . . except she’s never held anything close to a job. Everything’s just been given to her. It feels risky to devote that kind of money to such an unknown.”

“I see what you mean.” I nodded, thinking once again what a fortunate woman I was to have landed a man who had the foresight to start an investment group straight out of college. There were eight of them, and every month they contributed money into the coffer. So far they had invested in a restaurant, which one of the partners and his wife were running, and it was doing well. Then there had been a catering facility that a couple of the wives were heavily involved in.

I looked at Jasmine and blurted out before I even thought, “Why don’t you buy the Blue Pacific?”

“I didn’t know it was for sale.” Steve looked at Jasmine, who was just now cluing into our conversation.

“I didn’t, either.” She leaned toward me, resting her chin on her hand. “Do tell.”

“Think of it—if Steve’s group bought this place, you could move to Texas, closer to that place you’ve been looking at. The cost of living would be so much less expensive, you could sell your house and buy a new one with money to spare. And you wouldn’t have to worry about hiring someone to replace you. I’d be ready to step in.”

Jasmine offered a slow, sad nod, chin still in hand. “That’s the stuff dreams are made of.” She straightened up in her chair and picked up a stack of papers from her in-box. “Too bad I’m a little too old and a little too wise to believe in dreams.” She picked up a pencil and made a point of looking studious over the current papers.

“Maybe I’ll look into it,” Steve said softly, his head tilted to the side in thought. He grasped my hand. “Shall I go pick up Dylan from preschool so you can go home and get ready for a special dinner out?”

I smiled at him. “Pizza?”

“You got it.”

We both laughed.

The laughter faded from my memory, leaving behind it a gaping hole of what had once been. My engagement to Steve, Jasmine’s dream of a new hope. Yep, it had been my big mouth that started this deal, and now my big mouth—or my big fight with Steve—had ended it.

Wasn’t it enough that my heart was broken? Did Jasmine need to be crushed in the process? This was going to destroy her. She wouldn’t blame me—I knew she wouldn’t—but how could she not? She’d have to at least a little.

I suddenly dreaded going into work on Monday. Surely she would know the truth by then. It was Steve’s investment group who’d made the overtures, and it was their job to tell her the bad news. I couldn’t imagine having to tell her myself, or sit there and listen to her excitement growing, knowing that it wasn’t going to happen. Knowing that her dream was lost.

My phone rang again. Probably Jasmine remembering something else exciting—something else that would have been wonderful if I hadn’t messed everything up.

“Hey, Gracie.” My sister’s voice was lacking any hint of its usual perk. So unlike the Jana I knew, but it had become all the more common in the last few months. Still, I was so happy to hear her voice. She was the one constant in my life.

“Hey. You sound tired. Hannah got another ear infection?”

“Just getting over one.”

Dylan had been a mostly healthy baby, but I still had vivid memories of the few times he’d been sick and up all night. Jana had lived that over and over again with Hannah. “You’ve really been through more than your share lately, haven’t you?”

“Yes. Yes I have.” There was a grim determination in her voice. “Grace . . . I didn’t mean to just drop this on you, but I don’t think I can do this anymore.” Her voice choked for a moment. “That’s why I’m calling.”

A fleeting fear shot through me that she was about to tell me she was leaving Rob and Hannah and getting away from it all. I knew better, because Jana never gave up on anything, but something had changed. “What do you mean?”

“Dad’s having his surgery on Monday. You remember that, right?”

“Of course.” My father was having his knee replaced on Monday. Routine kind of surgery, and since Dad and I didn’t talk all that much, I hadn’t given it much thought.

“Well, here’s the thing. He is not supposed to be home alone for a couple of weeks after. He can’t stay at my house because there are too many sunken rooms and steps he’d have to go up and down. I was planning on staying over there with him, but Hannah’s been sick again. All her stuff is here. I checked with a few people, but nothing has come through and I just don’t have the time or energy to look anymore. Gracie, it’s your turn. You need to pick up some of the slack around here. I’ve got more than I can handle.” Her words became choked by the end of the sentence.

I’m not sure which shocked me more—my superwoman sister’s need for assistance, or the fact that she’d even think to ask me. It wouldn’t take a genius to know this would not be a good idea.

“Jana, I can’t just take off work. I won’t have any more vacation time coming to me until after September. And I think we both know that Dad and I in the same house for a couple of weeks would likely not be a pleasant mix.”

“Gracie, I’m exhausted and I know this is going to come out harsh, but at this point I’m done denying the obvious. That’s the problem we’ve got here. Every time things get unpleasant you turn and run, leaving the rest of us to deal with your part of the load. I’ve done it for years because I love you, but Gracie, I’m burned out and I’m fed up. You need to decide. Do you want to be part of this family or not?”

Stunned couldn’t begin to cover what I felt. I’d never heard Jana speak so forcefully to anyone, especially not me. “Of course I’m part of the family. It’s just—”

“Then start acting like it.”

“Jana, I just don’t think I can—” Hannah started crying in the background.

“I guess that means I can’t count on you for help. Thanks anyway.” My sister hung up the phone. Jana—the queen of sweetness and all things southern.

I’d never felt so alone in all my life.

“Um, Jasmine, I need to take a couple of weeks off work. Family emergency.” My tongue was so dry, I could barely say the words into the phone.

“Oh no. What’s happened? Is everything all right?”

No. Nothing is all right. Everything is ruined. “Yes, it’s just that my father is having surgery on Monday, and my sister can’t really stay with him afterward because my niece is sick. They just need me back there.”

“Of course, if you need to go, then you should go. Emergency surgery is definitely something you need family around for.”

I didn’t feel overly terrible about not correcting the misconception. Of course she assumed it was an emergency, because she’d heard nothing whatsoever about my father’s surgery until now. But in truth, there was an emergency. Just not the kind she thought it was. It was the patch-things-up-at-home-while-avoiding-my-boss-whose-life-I’d-just-ruined kind of emergency. The round-trip tickets at this late hour would cost more than I could afford, but at this moment, it was the least of my worries.

“Do what you need to do, but get back here as soon as you can, okay? With all this other stuff going on, I really need all the help I can get.”

“I think Dad’s going to need me for a couple of weeks, but I’ll come back as soon as possible.”

“A couple of weeks?” Jasmine choked and coughed for a few seconds. “Wow. That’s longer than I’d thought. But yeah . . . you should go help with your father.”

“Thanks, Jasmine. I’m . . . sorry.”

After I hung up, I thought about what Jana had said. About my running away every time things got unpleasant. Well, that’s not what I was doing here. I was going toward home, toward the unpleasant, to help my family. The fact that I was leaving unpleasant behind was just a coincidence. That’s all it was.

His outline was barely visible on the dark front porch, but I knew he was there. A single point of red fire glowing from the end of his ever-present cigarette. I turned into the driveway, and for just a brief second my headlights slid across him, then skittered away.

Oh, how I wanted to turn the car around and drive in the opposite direction. But I didn’t. This was only for two weeks. How bad could it be?

I already knew the answer. Downright unbearable.

Still, this was something I was obligated to see through. I was going to prove to Jana that she was wrong about me, and if staying with my father for fourteen days accomplished that, then so be it. Best to get on with it. Even as I climbed from the car, I would be lying if I didn’t admit that a large part of me hoped that things would go well enough for me to perhaps leave a few days early. Maybe . . .

The faint glow of the TV from inside the house blinked an eerie shadow as he stood and limped around the porch, his feet clomping against the wooden slats in an uneven cadence. I had parked next to the steps and as I walked closer, everything within me wanted to turn and run. Yet I couldn’t. I was propelled forward.

There was so much I could say to him—the man who killed my mother—but I wouldn’t voice any of those things. Instead, I came to a stop a few feet in front of him.

“Hello, Dad.”

“Hello, Grace.” His voice rumbled from years as a smoker, but otherwise he looked unchanged. Until I looked closer. There was pain in his eyes. I could tell it hurt just to stand. He sized me up for a minute before he asked, “Where’s Dylan?”

“Backseat. Asleep.”

“You planning on leaving him out here all night, or you going to bring him in?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” It was sarcasm, and as much as we both knew it, we also both knew there was more than a little truth to it. “I think I’ll bring in the luggage first.” I pulled Dylan’s duffel from the trunk and tossed it on the wraparound porch, then dragged my suitcase up the three steps until I stood beside my father. “What time do they want us at the hospital Monday morning?”

“Oh, they want me there at seven, which is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of. I bet they won’t even think about taking me back to surgery until ten or eleven. Don’t know why I have to get there so early.” He reached down and picked up Dylan’s duffel.

“I can get that.”

“So can I.” He tucked it under his arm and walked toward the house.

“You’re having surgery in two days. You shouldn’t be carrying heavy stuff around.”

“I’m having surgery on my knee. I’m not carrying anything with my knee.”

“Well, it’s all we need right now for you to throw your back out or something like that, just because you’re being stubborn.”

My father snorted. “I see you haven’t lost your talent for arguing since I saw you last.”

“There’s a pot calling a kettle black.” I rolled my suitcase toward the back door, taking a final glance toward the backseat of my rental. My son was still asleep in his car seat.

I walked into my old bedroom. It seemed so much the same as before—because of course nothing had changed. Nothing material, at least.

I heard what I assumed to be the thud of Dylan’s duffel as it hit the hardwood floor on the other side of the wall and figured I should make certain Dad hadn’t gone down with it. I opened the door to the adjoining bathroom, walked across the pink-tiled floor, and into Jana’s old room. I gasped when I saw the bed.

The pink quilt that had covered that bed for as long as I could remember had been replaced with a cheap bedspread emblazoned with brightly colored race cars. I looked at my father. “What happened here?”

He swiped a dismissive gesture in the general direction of the bed. “I saw this on sale at Wal-Mart the other day and picked it up. I didn’t want any grandson of mine sleeping under pink flowers.”

And I don’t want any son of mine sleeping under some redneck obsession with speed and recklessness.
Somehow, I managed to hold back the retort that was screaming to get out. These two weeks were going to be long enough without starting out with a fight in the first five minutes. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate the thought.”

“Of course he will.” He paused for just a moment. “Unless you’ve turned him into one of those soft California sissy-boys like they show on the news all the time.”

Oh boy. This was going to be hard. Really hard.

My father hobbled over to his chair and settled in and tried to start a conversation with Dylan, who was being extra clingy. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, hasn’t it? What have you been doing since you were here last? Swimming? Soccer?”

Just then, the front door burst open, and Jana launched herself across the room toward us. “There’s my sweet Dylan. Oh, my precious, come here and give Aunt Jana a hug.”

Dylan shrank back into me. “No!”

“He fell asleep on the ride here from the airport and just woke up, didn’t you, sweetie?” I rubbed the back of his head with my left hand and reached for my sister with the right. She looked amazing, tired but thrilled. Motherhood, so long in coming, definitely agreed with her.

She took the hand and squeezed. “Thanks for coming. Sorry I got so . . .”

“You’re welcome and I’m sorry you had to.” There were still issues the two of us needed to talk about—that much was obvious—but at least we were starting in a positive place.

“Yeah, Jana, and now you’ve gone and frightened your poor nephew to death. No wonder Grace never comes to visit.” Her husband, Rob, laughed from behind her as he lugged the baby carrier through the front door. Just over six feet and broad shouldered, he had an accountant’s haircut but a comedian’s twinkle to his eye. He smiled at me. “Hey, Grace.”

“Hey, yourself.” I could scarcely breathe with Dylan’s arms wrapped so tightly around my neck. “Now, get that niece of mine over here right now so I can get a look at her.”

Jana was sitting beside us now, her face barely an inch from Dylan’s. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I really didn’t mean to frighten you.” Her voice was the perfect pitch, all honey and sweetness, and usually charmed anyone. Given the way he was squeezing the breath out of me, Dylan was one of the few remaining holdouts.

“Don’t leave me, Mama.” He put his head on the other shoulder, farther away from Jana, who smiled a sympathetic smile, but the look of determination did not diminish one bit from her face.

“Really, Dylan, it’s okay. I’m your Auntie Jana, remember?”

“No!”

Rob came to stand in front of us. I found it amusing that in spite of the fact he’d come in lugging baby and diaper bag, his khaki pants and blue broadcloth shirt remained as unwrinkled as ever. “I don’t blame you, kiddo. She scares me, too. I’m Uncle Rob, the normal one, and this is your cousin, Hannah Rose.”

“Hannah Rose?” Dylan lifted his head and looked at the sweet bundle of pink in the carrier. “That’s Hannah Rose? I’ve seen lots of pictures of her.”

“I’m sure you have.” Rob smiled and squatted before him. He reached down and unbuckled his daughter and lifted her into his arms. “Your aunt Jana’s been burning up the camera’s memory cards faster than we can download them.”

Dylan leaned forward and smiled at her. “Hi.”

“Brrrbrr.” She began to make a razzing noise, complete with plenty of spit.

“She’s funny.” Dylan slid out of my lap and knelt on the floor. “Hey, Hannah Rose, hey, girl.”

Several minutes later, Rob, Dylan, and Hannah Rose were enveloped in their own little world of funny faces, noises, and excess salivation. Jana looked at the scene. “Isn’t this exactly what I’ve spent my whole life dreaming about?” She sighed a deep, contented sigh. Only the dark circles under her eyes gave away the fact that everything wasn’t perfect. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

“Yes, she is,” I said.

“Just like her father,” Rob deadpanned and braved a swat from Jana.

I was glad in that moment that I’d decided to come here. Perhaps this trip might be just what we needed to heal my little broken family. I watched Dylan beside Hannah, animated in a way I’d never seen. I hated for it to end, even when I knew it was getting late.

“Dylan, let’s brush your teeth and get your jammies on. It’s time to start unwinding.”

“I don’t want to.” Dylan whined all the way back to his room. “I want to play with Hannah Rose.”

“It’s her bedtime, too, but you can come back and play with her for just a few minutes after you’re ready for bed. Now, come on, let’s get you moving.” I looked over at Jana. “Be right back.”

I led my son through my room and into our shared bathroom. “I’ll go get your jammies and toothbrush. You go ahead and start getting undressed.” Dylan usually moved at a snail’s pace, so I knew he would likely remain fully dressed when I returned. I walked into the room and unzipped his duffel, knowing I’d put his pajamas and toiletry bag right on top for just such a moment as this.

“Wow! Cool bedspread!”

I turned to answer my son, but he raced past me and was soon bouncing on the bed. “Awesome. Vroom, vroom.”

I tossed his Thomas the Tank Engine pajamas toward him. “Now put these on and get your teeth brushed. Hurry up. Hannah Rose is waiting.”

“These are baby p.j.’s.” He grumbled as he pulled the crew neck over his head. “I want race cars, just like my bedspread.”

“You don’t need race cars.”

“Do too. Jason has skateboards on his.”

And Jason was going to grow up to be a thug, just like his big brother. “You like Thomas, remember? We rented some DVDs just last week.”

“I was littler then.” He jumped to the ground, and in truth the pajamas were a couple of inches too short for him now. “Where’s my toothbrush? I want to get back to Hannah Rose.”

It was the fastest I’d ever seen him get ready for anything.

After we’d finished brushing his teeth, he ran into the living room and dropped onto the floor beside Rob, right on the edge of Hannah’s blanket. “Hey there, hey there,” he spoke in high-pitched baby talk that I found to be adorable.

“Where’s Jana and Dad?” I asked Rob.

He nodded toward the stairs. “Jana wanted to make certain he’d followed her directions explicitly in his packing, and well, you know how she is. She’s up there making him show her that he really did it right.”

I started up the front stairs. Memories of my childhood—sitting on these stairs, sliding down these stairs, lurking about outside my parents’ room—assaulted me. I missed my mother every bit as much now as I did when she died seven years ago. Maybe more. I wanted to share the joys of motherhood with her, ask her opinions, enjoy the cute stories that only a mother can truly appreciate. When I got to the top of the stairs, the bedroom door was open. I heard my father’s voice. “He seems pretty whiny, and until y’all got here he was holding on to a stuffed bear, like a girl with a doll or something. I hope she’s not turning that boy into a fraidycat sissy. I mean, look at that hair. He looks like a girl; it’s no wonder. Maybe you can try to talk a little sense into her.”

I stopped just short of the bedroom door, holding my breath and waiting for Jana’s reply. “Oh, Dad, I wouldn’t go that far.”

This was not exactly the defense I had hoped for from my sister. From any reasonable mother, for that matter. At this point I’d heard more than enough. I retraced a couple of steps, then walked noisily toward the door and walked through as if I’d just arrived and hadn’t heard a thing. “Hey, you two. How’s the suitcase look?”

Several wavy wisps of Jana’s hair had come loose from her ponytail as she’d bent over Dad’s suitcase. She straightened up, looking a bit embarrassed, I thought, brushed them out of the way, and shook her head. “All I can say is, it’s a good thing I checked.”

“Hmph.”

“You’ll thank me later.”

“Right.”

The three of us made our way back down the stairs, Dad taking one at a time. We found Dylan on the blanket beside Hannah, tickling her chin with his finger.

“Hey, Grace and Dylan, I’m working in Hannah’s class tomorrow at church,” Jana said. “Do you two want to help me? We could spend some time together, just hanging out.”

Rob looked up. “Tomorrow’s a good day for it, too. Our pastor is out of town and Deacon Ross is doing the preaching.” He scratched his chin. “Maybe I’ll help in the nursery, too.” Rob tickled Hannah’s tummy and she giggled.

“Let me try, Uncle Rob.” Dylan reached over to his cousin’s stomach and soon she was giggling and snorting. In spite of the cuteness of the moment, my earlier optimism about somehow rebuilding this family had started to fade.

Jana was watching me with expectant eyes. If taking care of Dad was the first test, going to church seemed like the second. I wondered briefly how many more she would arrange for me. How many times I’d need to prove myself to her.

“We’ll be there,” I said.

The prodigal sister returned.