Francine Rivers - Her Daughter’s Dream

Depressed, Hildie tossed the brochures on the coffee table. So be it, Lord. If Carolyn wants to put me away, I’ll let her. Maybe it’d be the one thing she did that finally made her daughter happy.

Carolyn hung up the telephone and turned to Mitch. His gaze slid away from hers. He poured himself a cup of coffee. “I can take care of everything here, Carolyn. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“Have you talked to Dawn?”

“Briefly.”

“What’s going on, Mitch?”

“She wants you to meet her out at Jenner.”

“Why?”

He set his cup down and took her in his arms. “She’s been away from home a long time, Carolyn. She wants time alone with the two women she loves most in the world.”

“Why now? Why out there?” Pushing away from him, she headed for the master bedroom. He said her name, dumped his coffee, and followed. She felt him watching her as she took her small duffel bag from the closet and threw it on the bed. When had Dawn arrived? today? yesterday? Why had she gone to Georgia instead of coming home? Was something wrong? Carolyn packed two tunic sweaters and two pairs of leggings that coordinated with her tiered skirt. Jenner would be cold. She added socks, cashmere scarves, and a flannel nightgown. What else did she need? She went into the bathroom for her toothbrush, toothpaste, brush, and deodorant, stuffing them into a cosmetics bag.

Mitch stood in the doorway, watching her. “You’d better take a raincoat and umbrella. It’s pouring.” He didn’t say anything else, and she worried even more. He looked grim, hands shoved in his pockets.

He took her duffel bag and walked her to the garage. “Take the Suburban.” She didn’t argue. She took the keys from the hook and tossed her coat and umbrella onto the passenger seat. Before she could slip in and get away, Mitch turned her around. “She loves you, you know.”

“I know, Mitch, but given a choice, she always goes to someone else.”

Mitch held her shoulders firmly, not letting her turn away. “Don’t make her choose, Carolyn. Love the two of them the way Jesus loves you.”

“I do.”

“Maybe you should stop stuffing your feelings. Talk to them.”

“What would that do, other than make things worse?”

“You won’t know unless you try.” Mitch gave her a tender, lopsided smile. “No kiss?” She went into his arms and held on tight. She burrowed her face against his chest until she had control of her emotions. “I love you, Carolyn. I wouldn’t let you go out there if I didn’t think it was important. Call me.”

“The phones might go out. You know how it is.”

“Stay put when you get to Jenner. Don’t come back until it’s over.” Mitch shut the door as she settled into the driver’s seat. He raised his hand as though in blessing.

Carolyn had been watching the news and knew not to take East Side Road. Wohler Bridge was underwater. She took the freeway south and headed west on River Road. Wind-whipped eucalyptus trees cast debris on the road, filling the air with their pungent scent. She slowed, driving cautiously through flooded areas. She drove between hills covered with oak and pine, wound through groves of towering redwoods, root-locked against wind and rising water. Madrones dressed in red bark and green leaves hugged steep hillsides draped with fern boas.

Carolyn pulled into the Safeway parking lot in Guerneville, threw on her raincoat, and ran for the front door. Mom probably hadn’t been able to get to the grocery store since the storm hit, and now she would have company for who knew how long. She quickly filled a cart with milk, vegetables, meat, and cookies. Shelves were emptying fast. “Everyone’s picking up supplies for the next storm.” The checker weighed broccoli and slid it across to the bagger. “Good thing, too. I hear another one is coming in this afternoon.”

On the road again, Carolyn slowed through low areas where runoff had collected. Mitch was right. The Jag never would have made it. The river raged to her left, swollen and boiling with debris. The houses along the bank were flooded. How long before the road was closed?

As she headed up Willig Drive, she had to stop and drag part of an old apple tree off the road. Drenched, she climbed back into the Suburban and drove the last hundred yards. The old redwood on the corner of Mom’s property had dropped piles of small branches. Carolyn pulled around its massive trunk and parked parallel to the house.

The gate was locked. Carolyn dumped her duffel bag and rang the bell, then returned to the car to unload the groceries. She set down the first three plastic bags and went back for the rest. Shivering, she rang the bell again. Maybe Georgia had dropped Dawn off already, and she and Mom were too busy talking to hear the bell.

The door slammed. “All right! I’m coming!” The latch clicked and the heavy gate swung open. Mom held an umbrella. She looked at the bags of groceries. “I didn’t tell you to bring anything.”

“I just picked up a few things on the way through Guerneville.”

“It looks like you shopped for a week!”

“Could we discuss this inside? I’m soaked and freezing.”

Her mother took two bags and headed for the back door, leaving Carolyn to bring everything else after she closed the gate and latched it. “Is Dawn here yet?”

“No.” Mom shook off the umbrella at the back door. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with all these groceries, Carolyn. I don’t have a big Deepfreeze like you do, you know.”

Carolyn’s frustration rose like a tide. She let it crest and recede as she put the laden bags on the counter. When would she learn her mother wanted nothing from her? “I’ll take care of it.” She wondered if her mother ate the home-cooked, packaged meals she brought out every two weeks. Probably not.

“Dawn will be in the blue room. Take your things downstairs.”

Carolyn hadn’t even been in the house two minutes and already felt unwelcome. “Okay.” She went back into the cold rain. It was warmer than the kitchen.

The apartment was as chilly as a meat locker. Carolyn’s breath puffed steam as she dumped her bag on the end of the queen-size bed with its chintz spread. At least it had an electric blanket. She could hear Mom tromping around upstairs in the kitchen, probably unloading the bags. Carolyn hurried upstairs. Mom looked annoyed. “Potatoes, carrots, turnips, rutabagas, celery, onions, canned tomatoes… Let me guess. You want to make stone soup.”

Carolyn nudged her aside and took out round steak. “It’s good for a cold, rainy day like this, don’t you think?”

“And a lot of work, but you go right ahead if that’s what you want. What does it matter that it’s my house and I might have other plans.”

“Did you?”

“That’s not the point. I was getting around to it.” Her mother sat at the kitchen nook table. “Go ahead.” She waved her hand and looked out the window. “I’m just a little out of sorts today.”

“What time did Dawn say she was coming?”

“She’ll be here any minute.”

Carolyn put the milk, eggs, bacon, and cheese into the refrigerator. “What’s this all about, Mom?” She rummaged in a drawer for a potato peeler and paring knife.

“I thought you knew.”

“Me?” Carolyn felt confused. “You called me.”

Her mother looked disgruntled. “Are you sure you haven’t said anything to her about pressuring me to move?”

“I’m not pressuring you. And no, I haven’t discussed it with Dawn.”

Carolyn let the silence settle as she rinsed potatoes and carrots. How long before her mother realized she couldn’t stay out here alone, miles from a grocery store and medical care? She’d lost power for five days last winter! Mitch had to fight with the Coastal Commission to put in a generator. Not that she’d ever thanked him.