Dawn smiled. “No.”
Carolyn brushed aside a niggling worry. “I’m going to take a look around, anyway.”
The gate was stuck, but she managed to shove it open after several tries. The unearthed roots of the redwood tree stood seven to eight feet high, and they had pulled up most of the road. A steady flow of rainwater raced down the hill, undercutting the cracked macadam. She went back inside. “I have four-wheel drive. We can drive up the hill and around.”
“No, we can’t,” her mother informed her. “That road has been closed for the last week. There’s a big crack down the middle of it.”
“We’re nice and cozy and all together,” Dawn said, perfectly calm. “Let’s not worry about it. Let’s just talk.”
“Granny and I talked most of the night.”
“I know. I’m afraid I was eavesdropping. I heard everything.”
Heat spilled into Carolyn’s cheeks. What “everything” did she mean?
Dawn hugged the blanket closer. “The young veteran who played the guitar was my father, wasn’t he?”
So her daughter had heard everything. Carolyn desperately wanted Dawn to understand. “Biologically. But I never thought of him as your father. To me, you were always a gift from God.”
Dawn smiled. “I know, Mom. That’s why you named me May Flower Dawn.”
“Oh!” Carolyn’s mother spoke with sudden comprehension. “You said it was May and the flowers were blooming in the grass, and the Lord appeared to you at dawn.” Mom’s eyes grew moist. “No wonder you were so hurt when I changed it.” Her mouth softened. “You couldn’t have chosen a better name, Carolyn.”
Dawn grinned. “You could’ve called me Epiphany.”
Carolyn laughed as the tension dissolved. “I almost did.”
Mom spoke slowly, in wonder, eyes glowing. “May… Flower… Dawn.”
After a breakfast of cereal, they went through the other boxes. Dawn felt odd and edgy. She wanted things settled. Now. She didn’t have time to wait anymore.
“Now that you don’t have a garage, Granny, are you going to park your car in front of an American bungalow in Santa Rosa or a pretty Tuscany villa in Windsor?” She had something else in mind, but her mom would have to bring it up.
“Windsor’s closer to Alexander Valley.”
Dawn looked pointedly at her mother and raised her brows.
Dawn’s mother frowned slightly and sat back on her heels. Then she turned to Granny. “Do you want to live with me and Mitch?”
Granny gaped. “Well, I didn’t think you’d want me too close.”
“We have maid’s quarters we’ve never used. There’s a living room, bedroom with full bath, and a little kitchen.”
Granny just stared at her.
“You don’t have to live with us. I just thought maybe you’d think about it. I wanted to ask you after Dad died, but you wouldn’t even discuss it. You insisted you wanted your independence.”
“Then it’s your own fault for believing every stupid thing I say!” Granny burst into tears. But she was smiling. “And I thought Marsha had all the luck!”
Mom said they could remove the furnishings, and Granny could bring whatever she wanted, within reason. “Not that old faded couch, please. Let’s get a new one.”
Dawn felt everything recede in a gray cloud of pain and pressure. Then silence.
“Dawn?” Mom spoke. She and Granny were both staring at her. “What’s wrong?”
“I wanted to wait-” Something popped inside her, like a balloon. She gasped as she felt a pool of warm slickness spreading beneath her. “Oh!” Drawing in her breath sharply, she struggled to lift herself off the couch. The moisture went down her legs, soaking through Papa’s old sweats and spilling onto his thick socks. “Oh, no!”
Carolyn tried not to panic while she helped Dawn lie down in the bedroom.
Her mother stood close, speaking with authority. There was an eighty-six-year-old nurse in the house, and she’d just gone on duty. “Raise up, honey. Okay. Carolyn? Get the wastebasket.” She peeled off Dawn’s sodden sweats and panties and dumped them into the can.
Dawn wept. “I’m so sorry, Granny. I ruined your couch.”
“Didn’t you just hear your mother say it was ready for the junkyard? She wasn’t going to let me keep it.”
“Your nice sheets…”
“Oh, hush!”
Carolyn wanted to scream. A couch? Sheets? They had other things to worry about! The baby was coming early. The telephone didn’t work. The roads were closed. A giant redwood had just upchucked its massive root system all over the road and turned the garage into a pile of giant splinters!
“Another contraction?” Carolyn’s mother picked up her wristwatch and checked Dawn’s pulse.
Dawn groaned low and spoke through clenched teeth. “I thought first babies took a long time…”
“Not always. Take a big breath and blow it out. Rest as much as you can, honey.”
In less than a minute, another contraction came. Dawn looked at Carolyn. “Mom. You brought the Suburban.”
“Yes, but Granny said we can’t drive out of here.”
“No.” Dawn panted. “But you have GPS and OnStar, don’t you?”
“Yes!” Carolyn rushed out. Rummaging through her purse, she found her keys and ran for the door.
Hildie wiped Dawn’s forehead. The poor girl was burning up. Though it had been decades since Hildie had assisted at a childbirth, she could still recognize a serious situation when she saw it. “Is there anything else I should know about your condition, sweetheart? You haven’t looked well ever since you arrived. Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
Dawn met her eyes briefly, then glanced away. “Hodgkin’s lymphoma. It’s why I came home. Well, partly why.” Dawn grabbed her hand. “Don’t you dare cry. Not now. And don’t say anything to Mom. Please, Granny. I was going to talk to both of you at the same time, but I wanted you two to work things out first.” Another contraction came, harder than the last. “God won’t take this baby. He won’t.”
Hildie stroked Dawn’s hair back and told her to ride on top of the pain, like a surfer on a wave. “When did you find out?”
Dawn panted, beads of perspiration on her face. “October. The doctor wanted me to start chemo.” Tears streamed from her eyes into her hair. “They told me they could limit the dose to protect the baby, but I just couldn’t take that chance. Not after waiting so long for her.”
“Why didn’t you tell us? Your mom and Mitch would have flown out to be with you-or to bring you back here. We could have helped you.”
The back door opened. “Don’t tell her! Please. Not yet. Let me-”
“Shhh.” Hildie wiped her cheeks quickly. “Don’t worry. Concentrate on having your daughter.”
Carolyn came back into the bedroom. “I got through. They’re calling it in.” She came around the bed and took Dawn’s hand. “How’re you doing?”
Dawn gave her a tremulous smile. “Fine, Mom.”
“There’s a rescue helicopter at Santa Rosa Memorial, but it’s going to take a while.” Carolyn squeezed Dawn’s hand. “It stopped raining a few minutes ago. God’s clearing the way. They’ll have to land on the road down by the Jenner Inn and hike up.”
Another contraction had Dawn crying out and pushing down. Hildie put her hand on Dawn’s abdomen again, timing the contraction. “What about the tree? Can they get by it?”
“I wish I had a chain saw!” Carolyn didn’t take her eyes off Dawn.
Trip had bought one, but Hildie wasn’t about to tell Carolyn where to find it. She didn’t even want to think about the damage her daughter could do to herself with one of those things. “Bring the Coleman stove into the bathroom. Get a big pot, fill it with water, and get it boiling. There should be string in one of the kitchen drawers, and bring my sharp paring knife. And tongs.”