Francine Rivers - Her Daughter’s Dream

Everything moved quickly. Mrs. Zeigler called Carolyn and asked if she would be interested in buying some of their furniture. “We won’t have room for most of our things.” The only thing they wanted to take east was their bedroom set, a gift to each other on their fortieth wedding anniversary. Carolyn bought their sofa, wing chairs, bookshelves, a dining room set, a large mahogany coffee table, two standing tulip lamps, and the brass fire screen and utensils. She had made another sale and went out to find something special for May Flower Dawn. She purchased a French provincial twin canopy bed, white dresser, desk, and two matching side tables.

Carolyn used every spare moment to get the house ready for May Flower Dawn. She washed walls and painted; put up new drapes and sheers; had the wood floors in the living room sanded, restained, and sealed; and bought an imitation Persian rug. She added wall-to-wall carpeting in the bedrooms. Mom had told her May Flower Dawn’s favorite colors. She painted the walls of her daughter’s bedroom pink with white trim, bought pink sheets and blankets and a purple comforter set with pillow shams. She hung white lace curtains and bought new Barbie and Ken dolls with half a dozen changes of clothes.

Carolyn worked far into the night every night, wanting everything to be perfect before her daughter moved in. By the end of her first month of home ownership, she was ready. “Everything’s been done, Mom. I want to make things as easy as possible for both of you. Do you want to bring May Flower Dawn, or shall I come and get her?”

“Dad and I will bring her to you. We’d like to see what you’ve done to the place.”

When her parents arrived, Carolyn watched her daughter’s face, hoping to see some hint of pleasure. May Flower Dawn looked scared. She clutched her grandmother’s hand and avoided Carolyn’s eyes. Mom had a forced smile plastered to her face. She talked in an overbright voice, pointing out what a nice house Dawn would be living in. “What a lovely bedroom. Your mother painted it your favorite colors, honey.”

“I don’t want to live here, Granny.” May Flower Dawn spoke in a low voice.

“This is your home now, Dawn.”

“I want to stay with you and Papa.”

Every word stabbed Carolyn’s heart. Mom was clearly grief torn. Dad looked grim and somewhat irritated. “We’d better go, Hildie. Now.”

“Just give me a minute with her.”

Carolyn wanted to scream. You’ve had her for five years, and I’ve given you weeks to prepare her! Pushing the pain and anger down, she quietly left them alone and went outside with Dad. He gazed back toward the house. “Don’t expect Dawn to adjust overnight, Carolyn.”

She tried to be fair. “I suppose it’s going to be difficult for Mom, too.”

“You have no idea.”

Mom came outside alone, eyes streaming tears. “If you need us, just call.” She slipped quickly into the car and covered her face, shoulders shaking. Carolyn watched them drive away before she went back into the house. She found May Flower Dawn curled up and crying on her new bed.

Sitting on the edge, Carolyn put her hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “I love you, too, you know.”

“Why can’t I live with Granny and Papa?”

“Because I’m your mother. You belong with me.”

She peered up at Carolyn, eyes red-rimmed, face awash with tears. “You’ve never wanted me before.”

Carolyn drew in a sharp breath of pain. “That’s not true, May Flower Dawn. I’ve always wanted you, from the first moment I knew you were on the way. Everything I’ve done has been for you.” She looked into her daughter’s blue eyes and knew she didn’t believe her.

“My name is Dawn .”

“Your name is May Flower Dawn Arundel. Dawn is your middle name.”

Her daughter’s lip quivered. “The Mayflower was a ship.”

“You weren’t named after a ship.”

“Papa said it’s a hippy name.”

Carolyn supposed that was how her father and mother might perceive it. She felt wounded by the reminder of their condemnation. “May… Flower… Dawn. Three separate words, each with precious meaning.”

Her daughter blinked and stared at her face. “I like the name Dawn.”

Should she explain how she had come up with the name? Perhaps it was better not to look back. Other questions might come up, like who her father was. “All right. Dawn, it is.”

“Can I see Granny and Papa?”

“Of course.” She tried not to let the hurt show. “It’s not like we’ve moved to the other side of the moon.”

Even that assurance didn’t ease things for more than a little while. Carolyn heard her daughter crying that night-and every night that followed. Dawn didn’t like anything she cooked. When she asked her daughter what she did like, she shrugged. Carolyn knew it wasn’t the food that mattered, but the hands that prepared it.

Other more serious problems quickly developed.

Carolyn had to pick up Dawn from school and keep her at the office for the afternoon. A kindergartner didn’t have homework to keep her occupied, and coloring didn’t hold May Flower Dawn’s interest for long. Her daughter wandered and got in the way. When she accidentally knocked a stack of files off Ross’s desk, he called Carolyn into his office.

“You’re going to have to make other arrangements for your daughter, Carolyn. I can’t have her in here.”

Carolyn remembered coming home to an empty house when she was May Flower Dawn’s age. She remembered gravitating to Dock’s warm welcome and how that had turned out. “She just needs a little more time to adjust, Ross.”

“No. A child shouldn’t be cooped up in an office all afternoon. She should be outside playing with friends.”

Stung, Carolyn asked for a few days to work things out. She called her grandmother. “Oma, I don’t know what to do.”

“Of course you do. Ask your mother to babysit.”

“I’d be handing May Flower Dawn back to her.”

“No. You’d be sharing her.”

Carolyn wanted to weep. Sharing? Over the past five years, how much time had Mom allowed with her daughter? “You don’t understand.”

“I understand better than you do, Carolyn.” She sounded sad and tired. “Don’t make it a tug-of-war.”

When Carolyn hung up, she put her head in her hands and wept. Gulping down sobs, she looked up and saw May Flower Dawn standing in the doorway, frightened and upset. Carolyn wiped her face. “It’s okay. You’re going to get what you want.”

Running up the white flag, Carolyn called her mother. She could hear Mom’s relief and pleasure. “Of course! I can pick her up after school. She can stay here until you’re off work. You can drop her off anytime you need to show houses. I’d love to have her!”

She hadn’t had May Flower Dawn back for a month before she lost her again.

Life went more smoothly after that. At least Mom and Dawn were happy.

1977

It had been seven years since Carolyn left San Francisco and came home. Seven years of demolishing the old and constructing her new life. She’d hoped it would become easier with time. She hoped people would forget her past and allow her to raise her head without feeling censorious eyes upon her.

With only one bank in town, Carolyn often saw someone who knew her past. Today, that person just happened to be Thelma Martin. She came in shortly after Carolyn got in line to wait for a teller. She could feel Thelma’s eyes boring into the back of her head. They hadn’t spoken since Carolyn left the dentist’s office. Carolyn’s muscles clenched tight as she focused on not turning around. The woman had spread more poison in Paxtown than anyone, and she still seemed to delight in dredging up Carolyn’s history for anyone curious enough to listen.