Granny frowned. “In Jenner?”
Dawn giggled. “No, Granny. In California, in Healdsburg or Santa Rosa. I want to be close to family and friends.” She wasn’t ready to talk about everything, not five minutes after she’d arrived, maybe not tonight or tomorrow morning either. “I didn’t want to be alone.”
“Well, that makes perfect sense.” Granny leaned back, making herself comfortable. “When the baby is born, you can come out here and stay until Jason comes home. Then you can fly back to New Jersey to meet him.” Granny, taking over again. Mom didn’t argue. Dawn sensed the hurt she tried to hide and gave her an apologetic smile. “I hope you can get your money back for the airline tickets, Mom. It was important I be with both of you.”
“Well, of course, it is.” Granny nodded. “Your mom understands. This is where you belong.”
Granny meant with her, at Jenner. Dawn saw that’s the way her mother understood it, too, and spoke quietly. “I don’t want to be in between anymore.”
Granny frowned. “What do you mean ‘in between’?”
“Between you and Mom.” Dawn glanced from one to the other. “We three have a lot to talk about.”
Granny’s expression soured. “I should’ve known. Dawn drives all the way across country in the winter, and you say you don’t know a thing about it.” Granny glared at Mom. “I suppose you want me to believe you didn’t tell her you’ve been after me to sell and move.”
“I didn’t.”
“I don’t believe you!”
Mom hunched her shoulders and looked away, fixing her gaze somewhere outside the window. How many times had Dawn seen this happen before? Anytime an argument arose between her and Granny, Mom pulled inside herself like a turtle in its shell. The only one who had ever been able to coax her out was Mitch, and he kept Mom’s confidences.
“Mom didn’t say anything to me, Granny. This is the first I’ve heard of any discussion of you leaving Jenner.”
“You don’t have to pretend, Dawn.” Rain blasted the window, even as the storm in Granny’s eyes grew.
“Are you going to accuse me of lying, too?”
“It’s all right, Dawn. Don’t put yourself in the middle. I think I’ll see about dinner.” Mom got up slowly and went into the kitchen, closing the door behind herself.
Dawn hurt inside. This wasn’t the beginning she wanted. She looked at Granny sadly. “I wouldn’t lie to you and neither would Mom.” She held out her hand. Granny took it. “But now that you’ve brought it up, it might be time to think about moving.” She squeezed Granny’s hand before she let go and pushed herself up. She didn’t want Mom hiding in the kitchen.
“Just leave her alone.” Granny gave a weary sigh. “She’ll come back when she’s ready.”
“I need to use the bathroom.” Dawn rubbed the small of her back. “I hope you’ll apologize when she comes back.” God, You got me all the way across the country. Please get me through this, too!
When she came out of the bathroom, Mom sat at the kitchen nook table, face in her hands. Granny still sat in the corner recliner in the living room. Dawn felt the tears rise again; she hadn’t been here fifteen minutes and she was right back in the middle. Granny’s head lifted as Dawn stepped toward the living room. “Come on in and sit down, Dawn.”
“Why don’t you come in here, Granny? I’ll fix some tea.”
Granny glowered at both of them. “I don’t want to talk about moving.”
“Why not?”
“Look around.” Granny’s shoulders slumped. “And I’m not talking about the million-dollar view. I’m talking about-” she waved her hand like a white flag-“everything.”
Dawn understood. “I have to pare down every time Jason and I move, Granny. I pick what means the most and sell or give away the rest.”
“Well, it all means something to me, honey. There’s a story behind everything in this house. You know how much Papa loved this place. It was his last big project.” Granny’s eyes grew moist as she looked at Mom. “It might not mean anything to you, Carolyn, but Dawn understands.”
Mom didn’t even try to defend herself.
“I understand, Granny, but Papa wouldn’t want you living here alone.” She didn’t let Granny’s look of hurt silence her. “If you wait too long, someone else will have to make all the decisions-what to keep, what to throw away.”
Granny got up. “Well, that would be fine with me. When I’m dead, I won’t care anymore.” She dumped her tea in the sink. “Have it your way, Carolyn. If you’re that set on getting me out of this house, go on down to the garage and get started sorting.” She slammed her mug on the counter. “I’m going to turn on the TV and see how bad this storm is going to be.” Granny went into the living room.
Dawn sighed. “I’m sorry, Mom. I was trying to help.”
Mom shrugged. “It’s not your fault. It is overwhelming.”
Dawn smiled at her. “What was that you used to say? First things first.”
“One day at a time.”
“Granny loves you, Mom.”
Mom made a soft sound of doubt, got up, and put her mug carefully on the counter. “I think I’ll take advantage of the moment.” She took her jacket by the door and went out.
Dawn went into the living room. Granny tipped her recliner up and peered around her. “Your mother isn’t leaving, is she?”
“Would you care if she did?”
“Of course, I’d care.” She started to push herself up from the chair.
“It’s all right, Granny. She’s going to the garage.”
“Why?”
“You told her to get started, didn’t you?”
Granny sank back in her chair. “I didn’t mean now.” She frowned. “It’s freezing out there. It’ll be dark soon.”
“She’s not going anywhere, Granny. I think she just needs to be alone for a while.”
“She’s always preferred her own company.”
Dawn sat on the couch. Sonoma County was on the national news. “Another storm coming in tonight…” Aerial film crews showed the Russian River at flood level. The vineyards around Wohler Bridge were underwater. So were the ones near the Korbel Winery. The roads had closed. The river had risen high enough to close the Safeway in Guerneville.
53
Shivering, Carolyn stood in the garage, surveying the massive project ahead of her. Dad’s white Buick Regal still took up half the garage. Mom had forgotten to take the keys out of the ignition. Carolyn backed the car out of the garage and parked it behind Dawn’s car.
Shelves lined the walls. One section displayed canned vegetables and soups; jars of peanut butter, jelly, and jam; cans of tuna; and boxes of macaroni and cheese. Another rack of shelves held small appliances in their original boxes and enough Costco plastic-wrapped boxes of Kleenex, toilet paper, and paper towels to last a year. Carolyn set a kerosene lamp near the door. They might need it. Cabinets lined the back walclass="underline" one held shelves of vases in all shapes and sizes; another Korbel champagne, Johnnie Walker Scotch, bottles of Mondavi cabernet sauvignon, Wente Brothers zinfandel and chardonnay, all dusty. The devil prowls like a lion. After more than thirty years of sobriety, Carolyn felt the sharp urge to drown her sorrows.
She still attended AA meetings, but Cornerstone Christian Church filled another gap in her life. It had started with Pastor Daniel’s compassion the day Dad died. Then Georgia openly shared her life on the streets before God got ahold of her. Others with less-than-pristine pasts rejoiced over restored lives and made others, still struggling, welcome. Carolyn made friends, though she never let anyone as close as Chel, with whom she had shared all her secrets, even the one she had never told Mitch.
Why was she thinking about all that now?