Francine Rivers - Her Daughter’s Dream

Mom had said she’d fly to Newark when Dawn got closer to delivery. And then, just as she always did, Dawn had said it would be nice to have Granny come, too.

Why did she have to choose between them?

As Christmas came and went, she found herself wishing she were at home. Now, January rolled around. She’d have a birthday soon. What do I do, Lord? Dawn covered her face. Lord, I want to go home!

She couldn’t fly now. It was too risky to fly at seven and a half months. She could drive. Four thousand miles alone, in winter? Jason would have a fit!

Jason didn’t have to know.

Dawn shrugged into her heavy parka and went out for a walk. It was midmorning. Blank spaces on the street showed where cars had been during the snowfall last night. Everyone had gone to work by now. Maura worked at a co-op preschool. LaShaye never stepped outside her door. Okay, Lord, if I’m supposed to drive home to California, Maura and LaShaye will be home and both will want to talk with me.

She’d just passed LaShaye’s when the front door opened. “Dawn! Wait a minute!” LaShaye hurried down the path to the sidewalk. “You look awful. Is Jason all right?”

“He’s fine.”

She took Dawn by the arm. “Come inside out of the cold. I’ll fix some tea. Tell me what’s going on.” The phone was ringing when they walked in. Maura wanted to come over.

An hour later, they all sat crying in LaShaye’s kitchen. LaShaye gripped Dawn’s arm. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going home to California. I want to be with my family. I’m going to need Mom and Granny’s help. The hard part is going to be getting them to work things out between them so they can.”

Maura held out her hands. “What can we do?”

Dawn took hold. “I have to call the landlord, then call the base to store our furniture. Or sell some of it. I don’t know which.”

“If you’re driving across the country, you should have your car serviced,” LaShaye said. “Rory can do that for you.”

Between the three of them, they worked out the details. Dawn held out her hands. Maura and LaShaye each took one. “It’s been a pleasure, ladies.” She blinked back tears. “I didn’t have as long as I wanted with you.”

LaShaye squeezed tight. “Maybe we ought to pray.”

Dawn thanked God for these friends. “Yes. Please.” She felt a quiver of apprehension at the journey ahead of her. “And don’t stop.”

Dawn made all her calls the next morning. She didn’t think the landlord would return the security deposit, but when he heard the reasons, he brought the check over that afternoon. She bought a new laptop so she could continue e-mailing Jason every day on the long drive home. She studied routes on MapQuest. She decided against the straight route across the country. She didn’t want to go through Colorado and deal with heavy snows. Better to go south.

Maura came over when the movers arrived. Everything would be stored until Jason returned from Iraq. Suitcases packed, Dawn spent the night with Maura.

“How long do you think it’ll take, Dawn?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to take it one day at a time.” She would need to get out and walk around every hour or risk thrombophlebitis and edema. Main highways had rest stops. She planned to use them. “I’ll drive until I need rest.”

“The weather’s bad all across the country. You couldn’t have picked a worse time to travel.”

“I don’t have a lot of choice. I can’t wait.”

“You should have someone with you.”

“I will. I’ll have Jesus. He’ll get me home.”

She got up early the next morning, showered, dressed, and left a note on the kitchen counter beside the coffeepot.

Dear Maura,

Thanks for everything. I’ll be in touch. May the Lord bless you and yours.

Love, Dawn

For the first time in days, it didn’t snow.

Dawn knew, even before she had driven the short distance to Baltimore, the trip would test her physical and emotional endurance. She took one hour at a time, trying not to think how many miles she had to go. Each afternoon, after checking into a hotel and having dinner, she hooked up the laptop.

She wrote regular e-mails to Jason, as though still in New Jersey. She wrote about the baby, tidbits of good news she found in whatever newspapers she picked up in hotel lobbies, anything that might keep his spirits bolstered, and not hint she was driving cross-country alone, nearly eight months pregnant, in January. Once the e-mail was sent and the others answered, she unhooked and packed away the computer, watched television weather reports, and went to bed. After a week on the road, she awakened with night sweats and back pain. She lay in the darkness praying God would give her strength and peace of mind. She had a long, long way to go.

Christian music stations kept her spirits up throughout the day. When she made it to Oklahoma City, she felt more at home. She thought of the friends she and Jason had made, all scattered now like seeds in the wind. Some had settled in other U.S. bases, others in Germany; many had gone to Iraq. A few hadn’t made it home.

After a good night’s rest, she pushed on to Amarillo, Texas.

The baby moved vigorously, reminding her of why she was on this trip. Dawn draped her arm over her expanding abdomen. She wanted desperately to call home, but knew if she did, Mom and Mitch would be frantic. They worried enough already. “Be good, little one. Hang in there! You need to grow a little more. You need to be strong for Mommy.”

It took three days to drive from Amarillo to Flagstaff, Arizona. Pushing harder, Dawn made it all the way to Barstow the next day, but got no farther than Buttonwillow the day after. One more day, she told herself. God, help me. One more day and she could rest.

Dawn dreamed she stood on a stone arch over a black chasm. Granny stood on solid ground on one side and Mom on the other. The bridge began crumbling beneath Dawn’s feet. Granny and Mom both reached out and caught hold. Both called for the other to let go. Dawn begged them to stop! Please stop! Gripped by pain, she cried out. Her child broke free of her body and dropped into the darkness below.

Exhausted, Dawn pulled in next to Georgia Steward’s trailer and parked. Rain pounded on the roof of the car and slicked over the windshield. Mrs. Edwards peered through her living room curtains. Dawn barely had strength to get out of the car. She hadn’t walked often enough today, and her legs felt swollen and stiff. The baby had turned and now pressed down heavily inside her. Gripping the rail, Dawn climbed the few steps and knocked on the door.

“Dawn!” After a split second of shock, Georgia stepped outside and hugged her. “You’ve been on my mind for days. I called, but couldn’t get through. Your mom said she talked to you the other day and everything was fine.”

Dawn leaned on Georgia as they went inside. She had kept to her schedule of calling Granny and Mom. She apologized for not calling Georgia. “I’m sorry. I’ve been driving for days…”

“You drove ?”

“I couldn’t fly. I was past seven months.” Dawn sank gratefully onto the sofa and let out a deep sigh of relief.

“Honey, you look pale as a ghost.” Georgia lifted Dawn’s feet onto the couch. “Your ankles are swollen. Lie back.” She tucked a pillow under Dawn’s feet and put a blanket over her. “Are you hungry? thirsty?”

Dawn smiled weakly. “Both.” She hadn’t stopped for dinner, too eager to finish the long journey and rest. “But don’t go to a lot of trouble, please.”

Georgia opened the refrigerator. “Now I know why God had me praying for you.”