Marta's Legacy Collection (79 page)

Mom, Mitch, and Christopher piled everything into the Suburban and headed home after breakfast the next morning, leaving Dawn at Jenner with Granny and Papa. “We’re going to have such a good time together,” Granny promised, and Dawn didn’t want to disappoint her. While Papa dozed in front of the television, Granny made an angel food cake. Dawn sat at the kitchen table and talked about Jason. She showed off the bracelet he’d given her, though she left out personal details of what had happened during their gift exchange.

“Your first love.” Granny smiled. “It’s a milestone.”

“He’s my last love, too, Granny.”

“That’s the way it was for me and Papa. He was the first man I dated and the only one I’ve ever loved.” She slid the angel food cake into the oven. “I think it was that way with Oma, too. Fidelity must run in the family, just skipped one generation.”

Dawn recognized the reference to Mom’s hippy years and ignored it. “What was Opa like?”

Granny sat across from her. “He was grand. Tall, blond, handsome. He was at least a head taller than Mama. And strong as Atlas. I remember him lifting me as though I didn’t weigh more than a feather. He worked hard. So did Mama, of course, but my father enjoyed life more. He didn’t allow things to worry him the way Mama did. He sang in the orchard. My mother never sang, except in church. And he had the patience of Job, especially with Mama. She’d get so het up about things, had to have her way.”

Dawn held back a smile, thinking Granny could fit that description, not that she’d like hearing it. “Do you have any pictures of him?”

“Just a couple. There’s one in the bedroom on my dresser. They had it taken before Bernie went away to college. Bernie had copies made later on. Photographs were expensive in those days, and they never had a lot of money to spare. Rikka drew pictures of Papa and Mama and had them framed. They’re probably in one of the storage boxes out in the garage.”

Dawn followed Granny into the bedroom later while she put some towels away. She picked up the portrait and sat on her grandparents’ old king bed to study it. Oma, with dark hair cut short and pushed back from her plain face, stood straight, shoulders back, chin up, eyes straight ahead, lips curved into a taut smile. She stared straight into the camera lens, expression grim, as though having her picture taken was the last thing she wanted to do. Opa, on the other hand, looked at ease, a relaxed smile on his lips. Strikingly handsome in a dark suit, white shirt, and tie, he stood with one shoulder behind Oma, his head tilted toward her. Dawn imagined he had his arm around her waist, holding her in place. “Opa was sure handsome.”

“Blond hair and blue eyes.” Granny tucked away the towels and came out of the pink- and black-tiled bathroom. She took the picture and studied it with a smile. “Bernie got his looks. All the girls at school fell in love with him. Cloe and Rikka got his coloring, too.” She set the picture firmly on her dresser. “I took after Mama.”

36

Jason called two days after Christmas. “We just got back from LA.” When she asked if he’d gone to Hollywood or down to Disneyland, he said no. His mom wanted him to walk the campuses at UCLA and USC and Pepperdine.

“I thought she wanted you to go to Berkeley.”

“We’re not talking about Berkeley anymore.” He changed the subject before she could ask why. “When are you coming home?”

“New Year’s Day.” She turned her back on Granny when she came into the kitchen. She lowered her voice. “I miss you, Jason.”

“Would your grandparents mind if I came out to see you?”

Heart singing, she told Granny and Papa her boyfriend was coming for a visit. She was so excited she couldn’t sit still. She changed from sweats to fitted jeans and a pink sweater. She put on a touch of makeup. Maybe they could visit with Granny and Papa for a little while and then go over to the beach.

How long before he got there? It only took forty minutes and it had been forty-five. She sat at the kitchen table watching cars come around the bend before crossing to tiny Bridgehaven with its trailer park—flooded now—two-room motel, and restaurant overlooking the river.

The rain started again. So much for taking a walk on the beach.

An hour passed, and then another. “Road might be closed,” Papa told her while eating a sandwich at the kitchen table. “Aren’t many places to stop and call.”

Finally, she spotted his car zinging along Highway 1. When the car slowed through Jenner and turned right onto Willig, she darted out the back door to unlatch the gate. Swinging it open, she stayed under the wooden cover and watched him park. Heart knocking, she smiled as he got out of the car. “I was worried you got stuck somewhere!”

“I didn’t want to come empty-handed.” He leaned back into the car, sweater stretching taut over his shoulders, jeans snug, and lifted out a cellophane-wrapped potted poinsettia and box of Russell Stover chocolates. When she reached for the chocolates, he drew them back and grinned at her. “For your grandparents, not for you.” She laughed. He looked toward the house and then leaned down to brush a kiss against her cheek. “Not sure I can stay long. There were a lot of fallen limbs on the road, and water just after Guerneville.”

“If the road closes, you can always stay over.”

“I don’t think my mom would go for that idea.”

The sky opened up, rain pounding the roof and streaking down over the living room windows. Papa said he’d better go down and get some presto logs out from under the garage in case the power went off. Jason insisted he’d take care of it. “Nice young man,” Papa said.

“And handsome, too,” Granny added. Dawn felt smug. At least she had her family’s approval.

Granny suggested an early afternoon dinner “so Jason can eat before he heads home.” Jason became so engrossed in Papa’s World War II stories that Dawn went into the kitchen to help Granny make a tossed green salad and a casserole of turkey, dressing, and gravy. They all sat to eat at three. By four, the sky had darkened. The rain hadn’t let up. Jason gave Dawn an apologetic look and said he’d better go. Papa said he’d better call highway patrol first and see if the road was open through Guerneville.

It wasn’t. Papa said Jason would have to take the road south through Bodega and go back through Sebastopol in order to get the highway north to Windsor.

Granny protested. “It’s dark. And that’s too far to go in driving rain, especially if you aren’t familiar with the coast highway. Jason should stay here with us.” She suggested he call his mom so she wouldn’t worry. Dawn suggested Granny go on into the living room with Papa and let her take care of washing the dishes. For once, Granny didn’t quibble. Maybe she understood how desperately Dawn wanted to be alone with Jason, even if only for a few minutes, before his mother insisted he get back in his car and come home no matter how bad the weather.

Jason sighed. “She’ll be ticked off.”

“It’s not like you started the storm, Jason.”

“No, but she told me it was a bad idea coming out here.”

Dawn wondered if she’d been talking about the weather or seeing her. Jason punched in the numbers. His mother must have been sitting by the telephone because it barely had time to ring before Jason said, “Hi, Mom.”

Dawn squirted dish soap into the old porcelain sink, turned on the hot water, and pretended not to listen.

“The road’s closed. I’m going to have to stay out here.” He listened briefly. “It’d take two hours to go that way, and I only have half a tank of gas. . . .” Jason turned away. Elbows on knees, shoulders tense, he hunched over the receiver and growled. “Jeez louise, Mom, would you rather I ended up over a cliff in the ocean—”

Apparently his mother cut him off. Dawn added some cold to the hot and grabbed one of the glasses.

“Nice to know how much you trust me.” Jason grew more angry. “We’re not alone out here, Mom.
Both
of Dawn’s grandparents are with us, and it’s a small house. Two chaperones. Is that good enough?” He listened for another few seconds. “Okay. I’m sorry, but—” He sat up and let out a steamed breath. “Yeah, I hear you. First thing in the morning. Okay, okay. Yes! I’ll drive south if the roads are still closed. I promise.” He hung up. His expression looked faintly triumphant. “Need some help with those dishes?”

“Sure.” She smiled. He’d be here all night! “The towels are in that drawer.” When he stepped close beside her, she looked up, melting inside. He told her how much he liked her grandfather as he dried glasses and then silverware, asking where things went. Dawn daydreamed. Someday, when they got married, they’d stand like this every night and do dishes together.

They’d just finished putting everything away when Granny came into the kitchen with a pile of burgundy sheets, a pillowcase, and flannel pajamas. “Here’s an extra pair of Papa’s pajamas for you, Jason, and Dawn can make up the bed downstairs.”

Jason looked blank. “Downstairs?”

“The apartment. There’s an electric blanket on the bed, but we’ll keep the heat on so you don’t get too cold. You’ll be snug as a bug down there.”

“Please don’t go to any trouble. I can sleep on the couch.”

“Nonsense.” Granny dumped the pile into Dawn’s waiting arms. “We like our guests to be comfortable.” She went back into the living room.

Dawn headed for the back door. “Come on. I’ll show you where you’ll be.” He opened the door for her as she called out to her grandparents that they would be back in a few minutes.

The frosty air of the downstairs apartment struck Dawn as she stepped inside. Jason followed her. Mom had folded up the hide-a-bed—Chris hadn’t slept in it anyway—and put the coffee table back. Granny’s small writing desk sat in the corner. A Victorian lounge chair sat in the back room facing the stripped queen-size bed. Mom had left the thermal and electric blankets and blue chenille spread folded neatly across the end. Jason straddled the flowery lounge and watched Dawn shake out the bottom flannel sheet. She worked quickly. “You look like you know how to make a bed.”

She laughed, excited to have him here, even more excited at the thought of him sleeping just down the stairs from her room. “Granny taught me how to do square corners. She was a nurse.” Shaking out the top sheet, she glanced at him and saw something in his expression that made her breath catch.

She unfolded the electric blanket, making sure it was plugged in properly, before spreading it over the burgundy sheets. Dawn didn’t notice any cold air now, and no warm air blasted yet from the heating vent. Jason got up and helped spread the thermal blanket over the top. They didn’t speak. Pillowcase fitted, she plumped the pillow, pulled the bedspread up, and tucked it neatly under.

They stood on opposite sides of the bed, staring at one another.

Jason came around the side of the bed and took her hand. “Can I kiss you again?”

Trembling, she looked at him. “I wish you would.”

Tilting his head toward her, he whispered, “I was afraid your grandparents might get the wrong idea. . . .” When his mouth covered hers, she stepped closer, putting her arms around his neck and pressing her body fully and firmly against him. His soft groan lit a fire inside her. His hands moved down her back to her waist and hips and then up again, encircling her tightly. He dragged his mouth away. “I don’t think I’m going to get much sleep down here. I’ll be lying awake, staring at the ceiling, knowing you’re right above me.” When he kissed her again, she fitted her body to his and heard his sharp intake of breath. They were both shaking when Jason finally set her away from him. “We’d better go upstairs before your grandparents wonder what’s going on down here.”

Granny and Papa stayed up later than usual. When Papa pushed himself out of his recliner and said it was time to hit the sack, Jason stood and said he’d better go to bed, too, and thank you for everything. Dawn said good night to him from the couch and watched him go out the back door. He glanced back at her through the glass before heading for the wooden steps to the downstairs. Granny paused in the bedroom doorway and looked at her. “Are you staying up, Dawn?”

“I’m not sleepy yet. I thought I’d watch television for a while.”

“Turn down the thermostat when you go to bed.” Granny wished her a good night and closed the French glass doors with their sheer privacy curtains. Dawn pulled a crocheted afghan around her shoulders. She lowered the volume and changed the channel. She heard Papa’s loud snores. He always fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. It wasn’t long before Granny made it a duet. Dawn waited another fifteen minutes before turning off the television and resetting the thermostat. She took a quick shower and slipped on her nightgown. Pulling the covers back, she rumpled them and stuffed two pillows underneath in the off chance Granny awakened and felt the need to look in on her.

She closed the accordion doors before carefully opening the back door. She made sure it was unlocked before quietly closing it behind her. Then she hurried tiptoe down the wooden steps, feeling the icy drops of rain soaking through her cotton gown. A soft light shone above the apartment door. She hesitated. Then, shivering with cold, she pushed the door open. Her heart lurched as it creaked. As she stepped inside the door, Jason turned on the bedside light. “What are you doing?” Throwing the covers off, he got out of bed.

Jason looked so comical in Grandpa’s pajamas, Dawn giggled nervously. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Shhh. . . . You’d better go before they—”

“Listen!” she whispered, pointing up. Papa snored so loudly, they could hear him downstairs. She grinned at him. “They both sleep like logs. They won’t know a thing.”

“You’re shivering.” He put his arms around her. “You’re wet!”

“It’s raining.” She inhaled his scent. It went right to her head. “I’m freezing.” She shivered, loving the feel of his arms around her. His heart pounded harder. “I’d be warmer in bed.”

“Not a good idea.”

“We won’t do anything.” She slipped her arms around him. “We’ll just talk.”

Beneath the covers, Jason held her close and asked if she was warm enough. She said no and snuggled closer, pressing her body against the length of his. She heard his breath quicken. They did talk, for a little while. Then they kissed. Heating up fast, they had to push the covers off. Niggling doubts flitted into Dawn’s mind as passion grew.

Fear gripped her at the last. Too late. She sucked in her breath at the unexpected pain. Jason stopped, rasping an apology. She said, “It’s okay; it’s okay.” They both knew it wasn’t. Worse, they couldn’t go back.

This wasn’t how she imagined it would be.

When it was all over, Jason sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. Dawn pulled the blankets up to her chin. Silent, rigid, eyes welling, she felt sick with regret. What had she done?

Jason was silent so long, she felt driven to speak. “I love you.” That’s why she’d done it. “I love you, Jason.” She sounded like a frightened child afraid of being chastised.

“I love you, too.” Jason’s voice was thick with tears. And regret.

Ashamed, Dawn shoved the covers off and fled to the door. Jason caught up with her and wrapped his arms around her. Pulling her firmly against him, he whispered against her hair, “It’s my fault.” He drew in a ragged breath. “I should’ve gone home.”

Hurt by his remorse, ashamed of her own behavior, she spoke tersely, voice breaking. “I wish you had.”