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.”