25

1980

Granny and Papa’s Paxtown property sold quickly. A moving company stored everything while they stayed in Alexander Valley and looked for another home. They stayed in the second suite at the other end of the house from Mom and Mitch. Dawn was in-between. Granny made afternoon and evening appointments with their Realtor. That way, Dawn could go with them to see houses. Granny wanted to live at the north end of Healdsburg. Papa wanted to look at Cloverdale. Granny said that was too far away. So were Windsor and Santa Rosa. Granny said maybe they’d find something on Dry Creek Road.

Finally Granny decided on a house in Healdsburg. She talked about the nice guest bedroom with private bath, the neat houses along the street, the small, easily maintained backyard. And it was so close to Dawn’s school. “You could have lunch with us!”

Papa looked at Dawn in the rearview mirror and didn’t say a word until they got back to Alexander Valley. “Go on in the house, Dawn. Granny and I are going to have a little talk before we come in.”

They sat in the car for almost an hour. When Granny came inside, she headed straight for the guest suite. Papa went into the family room and sank into an easy chair. Mitch raised his brows. “Is everything okay?”

“We’re going to take a long drive tomorrow, by ourselves, and see a little more of the area.” Mom came into the family room, Christopher in her arms. Papa looked at her with a sad smile. “Healdsburg is a nice little town, but I’d like to be forty-five minutes to an hour away. Somewhere on the coast, if we could afford it.”

Papa found just the house he wanted at the end of the Russian River in Jenner by the Sea. The house was tucked into a hillside, almost hidden by a row of overgrown, shaggy cypress trees. He said the place needed some work, but he claimed it would have a “million-dollar view” when the trees were topped and the deadwood cut out and hauled away. Granny argued vehemently against buying it, but Papa won in the end.

Just before Christopher’s first birthday, Mitch flabbergasted Dawn by asking if he could adopt her.

Her stepdad was the coolest guy she knew, and she loved him, but she was torn. She asked for some time to think about it. Her mother didn’t like that, but Dawn didn’t want to make a rash decision and hurt anyone’s feelings. She went out to Jenner by the Sea for the weekend and talked it over with her grandparents. She hoped they’d give their blessing.

Papa didn’t say much about it other than, “It’s up to you, honey.” Granny remained silent on the subject until the next morning, when she insisted she and Dawn go to the beach for a walk. They hadn’t gone to the beach in months, so Dawn knew Granny had something to say. Granny let loose in the car on the drive over. She reminded Dawn that Mitch wasn’t her father; that Papa had paid all the bills for the first five years of her life; Papa had rocked her to sleep. Papa had read stories to her; Papa had played with her. Of course, he’d been hurt when Dawn told him about Mitch’s offer. How could he not be? Of course, he’d hide his feelings and say it was up to Dawn! Granny parked and wiped tears away. Besides all that, Dawn was the last Arundel in the family. Yes, of course, she’d get married someday and take her husband’s name, but until then, it meant a lot to them.

Dawn couldn’t bear to hurt her grandparents, and she knew Mitch would understand.

When she came home, she told Mitch she was honored, but thought she’d like to leave things as they were. Mitch looked disappointed, but accepted her decision with grace. He even kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry about it.”

Her mother stood silent, eyes glacier blue. She opened her mouth to say something, then pressed her lips together and left the room without speaking. Mitch followed her, closing the door of the master suite behind them. Her mother talked then, loud enough for Dawn to hear the tone, but not the words.

Dawn tried to talk to her the next morning. She wanted to explain it had nothing to do with Mitch. She loved Mitch. “I’m sorry if you’re upset, Mom. I just don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.”

“You don’t want to hurt Granny’s feelings. You don’t care who else you hurt.”

“Mitch seemed okay with it.”

“They’re your grandparents, Dawn! Isn’t that enough?”

“They’ve always been there for me.”

Her mother blinked. “So you hurt Mitch to get back at me?”

“No!”

Mom turned her back and continued making Dawn’s bag lunch. She didn’t have to say she didn’t believe Dawn; her posture said it all.

“Can we talk about it, Mom?”

“Why? You made your decision. Everything will be the way Granny wants it, and it’ll stay that way. It always does.” She shoved the sandwich into a Baggie and put it in the paper bag. “You’d better get your stuff together, or you’ll be late for the bus.”

1985

Dawn struggled with feelings of ecstasy, anger, and misery. She had kicked the winning goal in the final junior high team championship soccer game, and Mom wasn’t even in the stands. Mitch had come. Her stepfather always made an effort to support her. Just once, couldn’t Mom make the effort, too—especially since this was the last and most important game of Dawn’s life? Of course, Mom would have an excuse. Chris always had something going on somewhere else. Mom hadn’t even bothered to show up at Mary’s Pizza Shack for the season-ending party. When Dawn and Mitch came into the kitchen, there they were, sitting at the table, Mom smiling over something Chris had said. She glanced up. “How’d it go?”

“Dawn kicked the winning goal. I got it all on film.”

“That’s great. Congratulations, Dawn. Chris’s game started late. We just got home. He wanted to stop at Burger King.”

Mitch ruffled Christopher’s curly red hair. “How’d you do, Tiger?”

“We lost.” Her little brother—still adorable at almost six—never got upset about anything. “Can we watch Dawn’s game?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

Christopher was on his feet, hamburger forgotten. He and Mitch trooped into the family room while Mom gathered up the remains of their take-out meal. “You seem upset.”

“No, Mom. Why would I be?”

“Where are you going?”

“To my bedroom.”

“Aren’t you going to watch the game video?”

“I played the game, remember? Seeing it on video isn’t the same as being there, is it?”

Her mother stood at the trash compactor. “You had a cheering section. Mitch went. And Granny and Papa were there.”

“Why should it matter whether Granny and Papa are there? It’d be nice to have you and Chris at one of my games.”

“Well, Chris couldn’t come. His team needed him.”

“He’s in peewees! They play swarm ball! Just once, just for a couple of hours, couldn’t I be first in your life?”

“You came first for a long time, Dawn. Not that it ever mattered to anyone, especially you.”

Dawn gave up. Storming out of the kitchen, she went down the hall and slammed her bedroom door. She sat on the end of her bed and cried. Someone tapped on the door. Dawn shouted, “Go away!”

Sometimes she wished her mother would yell back instead of walking away—or responding in that cool, calm tone. Dawn wondered sometimes: How could she miss her mother so much when she’d never had her love in the first place?