Her Daughter's Dream (38 page)

46

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. . . .

47

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.”