Her Daughter's Dream (28 page)

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.

35

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.”