Dawn didn’t return to youth group until Kim and Sharon told her Jason wouldn’t be coming back because of his job. “About the only time I see Jason is at church on Sunday,” Kim told her. “He comes with his mom. He doesn’t come by the house and talk with Dad anymore.”
A month after Jason broke up with her, Dawn came home from independent study and found a message on her answering machine. “I love you, Dawn.” His voice roused all the pain and longing she had tried so hard to push down. He cleared his throat as though having trouble speaking. “I’ll love you forever.” Click. She sat on the bed and replayed it, letting herself wallow in regrets.
She didn’t know what to do about the Mexico mission trip over spring break. She’d received pledges of financial backing from Mitch and her grandparents. She had a certified copy of her birth certificate. But if Jason was going, she knew she shouldn’t. It would be too hard to be together. Sharon asked her why she hadn’t said yes or no, and Dawn admitted her dilemma. Sharon called the next day. “I talked to Jason. He’s not going to Mexico. He has to work. He said you ought to feel free to go now that you know he isn’t.”
Pastor Daniel might not share that opinion. She had no doubt Georgia Steward had talked with him about Dawn’s relationship with Jason. He might not want someone like her to be part of his team. Dawn needed to know one way or the other, but it took days to gather the courage to call him.
Pastor Daniel seemed surprised by her question. “Of course, I want you on our team.”
Maybe he didn’t know everything. Maybe Georgia Steward hadn’t wanted to share that information. “I didn’t want to take anything for granted, Pastor Daniel.”
“God loves a broken and contrite spirit, Dawn.” His quiet words dispelled any illusions about whether Jason’s mother had spoken to him. They also reassured her that Pastor Daniel wasn’t going to throw stones.
After all the talk of how a mission trip could change a person’s outlook on life, Dawn didn’t know what to expect. Hearing about poverty or seeing it on television ads wasn’t the same as being in the middle of it, smelling it, tasting it in the air. They drove down streets with houses tucked tight together, garbage dumped and rotting in the streets. Some people lived in shelters that couldn’t even be called shanties. What surprised Dawn most was the people: They smiled and shouted greetings as the Amor ministry team arrived. Children ran alongside the van, waving and calling out in Spanish.
After a night’s sleep, she and the others rose early and went to work building a twelve-by-fourteen-foot house for the Guttierez family. Dawn’s hands blistered, her back ached, and she smelled of sweat like any common laborer. When Pastor Daniel told her to take a break, she sat in the shade and watched some children kicking an old soccer ball back and forth. She wasn’t a great hod carrier or carpenter, but she knew how to play soccer. Dawn joined the children and showed off a few tricks she’d learned while playing for the Sky Hawks. Soon, children swarmed around her whenever she wasn’t working on the house.
On the last night, house complete, Senor and Senora Guttierez insisted on hosting dinner for the entire team. Leftover boards propped up on sawhorses acted as a dining table. Senora Guttierez and her teenage daughter, Maria, made a big pot of beans and chicken enchiladas with cheese. Senor Guttierez stood at the head of the table, tears running down his rugged cheeks, as he told them in broken English what it meant to him to have a house for his family. Senora Guttierez added her shy thanks, as did their five children.
Dawn went outside, sat hunched against the wall, and wept. Pastor Daniel came out and sat beside her. “What’s on your mind?”
“My bedroom is bigger than their entire house.” She covered her face. Had she ever once said thank you for the blessings she had received? Not that she could remember. And the Guttierez family hadn’t stopped thanking all of them since the day the team arrived.
“From those to whom much is given, much is required.”
And there it was again, that piercing stab of conscience. “I think they spent everything they have to put on this dinner.” What had she ever given to anyone?
“Probably, and they’re proud and pleased to do it. They count the ability to give as a blessing, too.” He got up and smiled at her. “Come back inside when you’re ready.”
Dawn sat for a while longer. These people worked hard and barely managed to get by. They wanted the opportunity for a better life for their children. Georgia Steward popped into her mind. “Your love has single-handedly ruined most of Jason’s chances to escape this trailer park.” Dawn leaned her head against the wall she’d helped build. Was that true? Not entirely, but enough so that it stung. Jason still had opportunities. So did she.
Before leaving the next morning, the CCC crew left the remaining food supplies, bottled water, building materials, and some tools. As soon as they crossed the border and started the long drive north to Anaheim, where they would stop and spend a day at Disneyland as reward for their labors, everyone fell asleep except Pastor Daniel, Mr. Jackson in the passenger seat, and Dawn in the back. While they talked, she sat in the back row, staring out the window and praying.
Who am I, God? Who do You want me to be? Oma said the plans You have are better for us than the ones we make for ourselves. My plans led me into sin and pain and regret and fear. God, I want to become a woman of character and faith. I don’t want to be a selfish, spoiled little girl with nothing to offer. Change me, Lord. Please change me.
Weary, head aching, Dawn leaned her head back against the seat. Pastor Daniel looked at her in the rearview mirror. His eyes crinkled the way they did when he smiled.
Back in Windsor, everyone piled out of the church van and started unloading. Some met up with waiting parents. Dawn had left the Sable in the church parking lot. Running a finger over the dusty trunk, she imagined what Papa would say and decided to go through a car wash on the way home. She stowed her duffel bag. Closing the trunk, she found Pastor Daniel standing by the car. “Thanks for going with us, Dawn.”
“My pleasure.”
“You worked harder than anyone on the team.” He gave her a teasing smile. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”
She gave him a sad smile. “Neither did I.”
Maybe it was a start.
When she pulled into the last space in Mitch’s four-car garage, Christopher bounded out to greet her. Mitch took her duffel bag. He said Mom was manning an open house. “You look worn-out, Pita.”
“I’m exhausted.” Dawn hugged him around the waist. “Thank you for my big, beautiful bedroom and the beautiful home and yard and pool and good food on the table and for loving me even when I’m a pain in the—”
“Wow!” Mitch laughed. “What happened to you?” He put his arm around her shoulders and steered her toward the door into the house. “It’s been my pleasure, Dawn. You look dead on your feet. They must’ve worked you hard in old Mexico. Why don’t you take a nap?” She thanked him and headed down the hall to her room. Mitch called after her, “Forgot to mention it, but you’ll never guess who stopped by my office for a visit.”
“Who?”
“Jason. He stayed more than an hour.”
Just the mention of his name was enough to make Dawn’s heart race. “Did he ask about me?”
“Briefly. He had some questions. He has to make decisions about his future. He’s weighing all his options. He said to say hi.”
Independent study helped keep Dawn’s mind occupied. She didn’t have to worry about facing Jason. She didn’t have friends or class disturbances to distract her. She could fix her mind on the work ahead. Rather than coast by, Dawn dove into her studies. She only had to go to Healdsburg High once a week to check in with the independent studies supervisor, turn in work assignments, and take exams.
All Sharon, Amy, and Pam talked about at youth group was the upcoming prom. Kim and Tom were going together. Steven Dial had asked Pam. Sharon held out hope hunk-of-the-month football fullback Tomás Perez would ask her. Amy worried t
hat if anyone did ask, she wouldn’t be able to afford a dress. Dawn wondered if Jason was going and with whom, but didn’t ask.
Prom came and went, and conversations at youth group turned to finals and graduation, summer jobs and college plans. Half the members were finishing high school. Sharon and Kim were graduating and going to college. Amy’s father had been offered a better job in Dallas. With so many of her friends leaving, Dawn wondered if she’d even attend the CCC youth group next year. She felt out of it, on the edge again, not really part of anything anymore. She didn’t know what was happening on the Healdsburg High campus, nor did she care. What did all that matter, especially now that Jason was going away to college? “Somewhere in Southern California,” Sharon told her. “I just can’t remember which college. And he’s working construction over the summer. Down in San Jose, I think, with a friend of a friend of Pastor Daniel.”
Dawn had the feeling Jason Steward had walked out of her life. Whatever plans God might have for her now clearly did not include him.
She didn’t think her grief could go any deeper until Granny called on a hot August morning and said Papa was dead.
39
The appalling call about Papa’s death sent Mom into panic mode. They needed to get out to Jenner now. Dawn insisted on going with them. Mitch called the Eckhards and asked if they would keep Christopher. They dropped him off on the way out. Dawn sat in the backseat in a state of shock. When they arrived, they found Granny sitting in the corner chair in the living room. Face white, eyes red, she pointed to the closed French doors to the bedroom. Mom stepped back and bumped into Mitch. He grasped her shoulders and whispered something.
Trembling, Dawn went into the bedroom first. She refused to believe Papa was dead. He apeared to be asleep. She went closer and laid her hand on his forehead. He felt so cold. He wasn’t breathing. She drew in a sharp breath as though to do it for him. She felt warmth behind her. Mitch, standing ready. “He looks peaceful, doesn’t he, honey? He’s with the Lord.” Sobbing, she turned and fell into his arms.
Granny spoke in the living room. “He said he was tired. He gave me a kiss good night. He was snoring when I went to bed. And then when I woke up this morning, it was so quiet.” She cried. “It was too quiet. I knew.”
Mitch ushered Dawn back into the living room. Mom’s face twitched. Her fingers pleated her tiered skirt. Face ashen, wide-eyed, she turned toward the bedroom, but didn’t move. Dawn sat next to her on the couch. They didn’t look at one another. They didn’t touch. Mitch seemed the only one in the room capable of thought. “Have you called anyone, Hildie?”
“I called you.” Granny blew her nose.
Mitch went down on one knee beside her and put his hand over hers. “I mean about his body.”
She jerked. “No. I’m not ready to send him away yet.”
“You’ll be able to say good-bye at his memorial. . . .”
“There’s not going to be a memorial service!” Granny sounded broken, but adamant. Her hand fluttered like a wounded bird. “We don’t know anyone up here.” It had been too far to drive in from Jenner to church on Sundays. She and Papa only made it to Easter cantatas— and one Christmas pageant when Christopher had played a little shepherd boy.
Mom shook, hands clenching her skirt. “You can have the service in Paxtown, Mom.” She spoke in a dull voice. “Mitch can call Rev. Elias.” Her face was shuttered. “Dad was one of his elders. He would want to officiate.”
Granny dabbed her eyes. “Rev. Elias retired five years ago. He and Janice moved up to Silverton, Oregon. I think. I don’t remember. We haven’t even exchanged Christmas cards with them in the last few years.”
“You have friends in Paxtown. The MacPhersons, Dr. Griffith, Doc and Thelma Martin.” Mom’s voice came out flat as she listed names.
Granny glared at her. “As if any of them remember us.”
Mom raised her head, clearly distressed. “Is that my fault?” She sounded as though she thought it might be.
“No! Did I say it was? Did I? Thelma Martin was never my friend.”
“Hildie.” Mitch spoke gently.
Granny cried again. “We had friends, Carolyn. We’ve been gone eight years. Life goes on. People move away. People die.” She started to sob.
Mom stared at Mitch with huge eyes. She was like a frightened little girl, frozen in her seat, afraid to move. Dawn couldn’t bear seeing her like that or Granny crying her heart out. Someone had to do something! She fled into the kitchen, pulled out the telephone directory, and flipped frantically through pages. Scrubbing away tears, she read the number for Cornerstone Covenant Church and punched it into Granny’s ancient phone.
Kim answered. She must be standing in for the church secretary again. Dawn started talking and knew she was making no sense. She started to cry. Pastor Daniel came on the line. “What’s wrong, Dawn?” Fighting down the tears and rising hysteria, she told him her grandfather had died and his body was still in his bed and Granny didn’t want a service and Mitch was going to call the mortuary and have his body taken away and she couldn’t bear the thought of that being the end of him and—
“I’m on my way,” Pastor Daniel interrupted her.
Mitch called the mortuary as soon as she hung up the telephone. Dawn went outside and paced on the deck, watching the road. When she saw Pastor Daniel’s blue Chevy coming, she stood outside the gate. He got out of the car and held her close. “Did he know Christ, Dawn?” She nodded against his shirt, soaking it with her tears. “Then you know where he is right now.”
“It doesn’t help.”
“It will.”
She led him into the house and introduced him to Granny. He sat on her hassock and talked to her. Mom went outside and stood on the deck. Mitch went out and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight against him. Dawn sat on the couch, hands pressed between her knees, not knowing what to do. Jesus. Jesus. That’s all she could think to pray. Just His name over and over again.
“Why don’t you get your mother and stepfather, Dawn?” When they came inside, Pastor Daniel led them all into the bedroom, where they gathered around Papa. Pastor Daniel held Granny’s hand and talked about Jesus’ life and death and resurrection and the promise He made, a promise that would never be broken. Mom kept looking at him. Granny grew calmer as he spoke.
Pastor Daniel stayed until after Papa’s body had been taken away. He had been the one to remember to ask for Papa’s wedding ring. He said he’d come and talk with Granny again if she liked. Would she be staying with the Hastings?
Granny shook her head.
Mitch leaned forward on the couch, one hand still holding Mom’s, the other resting on the arm of the sofa closest to Granny. “Why don’t you come home with us, Hildie?”
“No.” Granny gripped the arms of her corner chair, letting everyone know she wouldn’t be pried from her home. “I’m staying right here.”
“You shouldn’t be alone, Hildie.”
Granny glared at Mitch, a stubborn tilt to her chin. “It’s my home. I’m going to have to get used to being alone, aren’t I?”
Dawn could tell Mitch was exasperated and torn. She knew he would take good care of Mom, who seemed as undone as she had been when Oma died. But Granny shouldn’t be alone. When Pastor Daniel stood, Dawn took his place on the hassock. “I’ll stay.”
Dennis Bingley gave her time off. Over the next week, Dawn cried almost as much as Granny. Instead of sleeping in the blue room, she slept with Granny. Once, while Granny slept in the easy chair, Dawn went downstairs and sat on the bed where she had given herself to Jason. She then cried for other reasons. If she’d followed Jesus instead of her own desires, she wouldn’t be spending the rest of her life living in regret.
On the sixth morning, she awakened when Granny brushed hair back from her face. Granny smiled faintly, head on her own pillow. “You’re a very sweet girl. Do you know that?”
“Are you going to be all right, Granny?”
“Yes. I’ll ha
ve to be because you have to go home today.”
Dawn took her hand and held it against the mattress. “I’ll call you every night and come out next weekend.”
“I know you will.” Granny’s hazel eyes filled with tears. “All this is just part of life. Still it feels unexpected. You’ll have to call home for a ride. Maybe your mother will come out and pick you up.” She sounded hopeful.
Mitch came for Dawn. On the way home, he asked how things went. She told him Granny was going to have a hard time, but was too stubborn to talk about moving into town. “How’s Mom doing?”
“She’s bottled up inside again. It’s going to take time. One good thing came out of all this.”
How could anything good come from losing Papa? “What’s that?”
“She asked me to take her to your church this morning.”
1988
Senior year proved grueling as Dawn combined afternoon college courses with her remaining high school requirements. The previous year she had taken one class at Santa Rosa Junior College, and she enjoyed it so much she decided to take two this year. She didn’t have a spare minute for R & R, as Mitch put it, not between commuting to Santa Rosa, attending classes, studying, writing papers, and working twenty hours a week at Java Joe’s. When she did get a weekend off, she often drove out to Jenner and stayed with Granny until Sunday morning, when she’d drive back to attend CCC with Mom, Mitch, and Christopher.
With dismay, but no protest, Mitch had given up his old church. Dawn knew he was glad Mom had finally found a church where she felt comfortable. Christopher couldn’t have been happier now that he could spend even more time with his friend Tim Eckhard. People had welcomed the family with open arms, even Georgia Steward, who came and shook Mitch’s hand and gave Mom a quick hug. She greeted Dawn with cool courtesy.
Marta's Legacy Collection Page 74