“Every penny of it.” Dad pushed the bankbook back to her. “It’s every dollar of the rent money you’ve given us since you came home.”
She stared at them. She didn’t know whether to believe they could extend such kindness or pull defensive armor around herself. “I don’t understand.”
Dad leaned forward. “We knew you’d need a nest egg, Carolyn, something to give you a good start when you finished school. So we’ve been setting aside the rent money from the beginning.”
Carolyn looked at her mother and saw a war of emotions. Did she understand this gift would become the means to take May Flower Dawn away from her? Mom’s sad smile hinted she did; then her words confirmed it. “You should have enough to put a down payment on that bungalow you want.”
“If I can talk them into selling, I will.” Carolyn took the bankbook with trembling fingers. “Thank you.”
Carolyn felt no qualms about embracing her father or soaking his shirt with tears. Hugging her mother proved more difficult. As soon as Carolyn put her arms around her, Mom stiffened and turned her face. Hurt, Carolyn took the hint and withdrew. Her mother’s eyes filled with pain. She took Carolyn’s hand, patting it. “You’ll do fine.”
* * *
Carolyn wasted no time. She went to the Zeiglers, who owned the house she liked, and asked if they might be interested in selling. She expected resistance, but they surprised her and agreed. They had been thinking about selling for over a year. “Our daughter would like us to move back to Ohio and live with her family. She has a big house on a lake, with a granny unit.”
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.
20
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.
A teller opened up, and Carolyn made a beeline to her window to make her deposit. “Can I do anything else for you, Miss Arundel?”
Carolyn said no thank you, stuffed her checkbook into her shoulder bag, and headed quickly for the door. She barreled right into someone standing just outside. The man steadied her.
“I’m so sorry.” She stepped back from his touch, face hot. “Excuse me.”
“Carolyn?”
Flustered, she looked up. She hadn’t seen this tall, broad-shouldered, red-haired stranger around town, but he looked familiar. In the split second she looked into his green eyes, her pulse shot up. She tried to place him. Had she slept with him in Haight-Ashbury? She hoped not, but the memories of those awful days came fresh to mind every time she saw Thelma Martin’s condemning glare.
“Mitch Hastings.” He smiled at her. “Remember me now? Your brother and I rode bikes together, until he got a red Impala.”
She had driven the Impala until Dad had said it wasn’t safe to drive anymore. She hated seeing it towed away, hated even more the payments for another used car.
When she didn’t say anything, he went on. “We played football together in high school. I played offensive lineman so he could score all those touchdowns.”
His smile made Carolyn’s insides quiver strangely. That alone made her want to run. She glanced away and saw Thelma Martin heading straight for the door. “Nice to see you again, Mitch.” She didn’t even extend her hand. “I have to run.” She stepped around him and walked quickly toward her car.
“Wait a minute.” He caught up with her easily and fell into step beside her. “What’s your hurry?”
“I have to get back to work.”
“Can I call you?”
“Sorry.” She got into her car. If he kept standing where he was, she’d run over his toes. She glanced at him as she backed out. Cranking the wheel, she shot out of the parking lot. She glanced in her rearview mirror. Mitch stood, hands on his hips, looking bemused. He turned his attention to Thelma Martin when she came up to him and extended her hand. No doubt Thelma Martin would feel it her civic duty to warn Mitch off having anything to do with the town slut.
The telephone rang within minutes of her return to Ross Harper’s agency. His wife, Candace, answered. “Yes, she is. She just walked in the door. One moment please.” She smiled at Carolyn. “Call on line two. He has a nice voice.”
“Carolyn Arundel. How can I help you?”
“You can go with me to my class reunion tonight.” Mitch Hastings didn’t waste time.
She couldn’t imagine anything worse than a Paxtown class reunion—it didn’t matter what year. “No, thank you.”
“I know it’s short notice. If I’d known you were back in town, I would’ve gotten in touch sooner.” He chuckled. “It was providential we ran into one another.”
Clearly, Thelma had given him an earful about her past. He wasn’t the first eager beaver wanting to go out with her and see how far he could get on a first date. Hence, she never went out. “I wasn’t in your class.”
“We’re out of high school. The age difference doesn’t matter anymore.”
Meaning what? She’d been jailbait when she had a crush on him? “Try someone else.” She hung up.
When she picked up May Flower Dawn that afternoon, her mother told her Mitch Hastings had been there for a visit. “He was a sight for sore eyes. I haven’t seen him in years.” She looked pleased and speculative. “He said he saw you in town.”
“We bumped into one another.”
“Did he tell you he’s a certified financial planner now?”
“We had about two seconds to exchange greetings, Mom. I had to get back to work.”
“He told Dawn stories about Charlie and had us all laughing. He has a place up north of Healdsburg; Alexander Valley, I think he said. He’s in town for the class reunion. He said he asked you to go with him, but you said no. If you’d like to change your mind, he left his number. He’s staying at the Paxtown Hotel. We can keep Dawn for the night. . . .”
“No, thanks.”
“I always liked Mitch. He’s a solid young man, Carolyn. Why don’t you go? All you do is work. It wouldn’t hurt to have some fun once in a while.”
Carolyn had to bite her tongue to keep from telling her mother Thelma Martin had gotten to him first and poisoned the water. And how did anyone know what Mitch Hastings was? Mom just said she hadn’t seen him in years. Carolyn didn’t feel safe with what he’d stirred in her in less than a minute. “I don’t need any more complications in my life.” She preferred loneliness to feeling used. Several of her brother’s friends still lived in the valley. When they called her out of the blue, she knew why. She could hear it in the seductive tones they used, the way they promised her a good time. Saying no hadn’t changed her reputation. What man wants to admit he’s been shot down? Better to smile and let people believe things went exactly as people like Thelma Martin expected. She didn’t go out with anyone. She didn’t trust herself where men were concerned. All she had to do was look back. Why open the door to more hurt?
Mitch called the office again on Monday. “How about lunch?”
“I thought you just came for the reunion.”
“I decided to stay a few extra days.”
Carolyn’s body responded to the warmth in his voice, which made her more wary. “Well, enjoy yourself. I’m busy.”
“You have to eat sometime.”
“I brought a sandwich.”
Ross turned and looked at her, brows raised. Thankfully, another line rang, distracting him. Candace had gone on break and wasn’t around to answer.
Mitch cleared his throat softly. “Did I do or say something to offend you, Carolyn?”
“No. It isn’t that.” When another line started ringing, Ross glanced at her. “Sorry, but I have another line coming in. Can’t talk.” She hung up and hoped he’d take the hint and leave her alone.
Someone wanted to see a house in Paxtown Heights. “I can show you the property now, if you’d like.” She jotted down the prospective buyer’s address, grabbed her keys, and headed for the door. She didn’t return until midafternoon.
Ross nodded toward her desk. “Mitch Hastings called you back. He wants to see one of your properties out on Foothill Road.”
She threw her shoulder bag into the bottom drawer of her desk and kicked it shut. “Why don’t you take him?”
He grinned all too knowingly. “He didn’t ask for me.”
“He isn’t interested in buying that house, Ross. He already has a place up in Sonoma County somewhere.”
He leaned back in his swivel chair. “So?”
 
; Candace decided to join the conversation. “People have been known to buy more than one house.”
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” Ross smiled. “Go talk to him.”
Fuming, Carolyn got her purse out of the drawer and left again. On the way to the hotel, she tried to rehearse what to say. Heart pounding, she waited while the clerk called and told him, “A lady is in the lobby, Mr. Hastings.” He listened and hung up. “He said he’ll be right down.”
When Mitch appeared, she opened her mouth, but he put his hand at the small of her back and guided her toward the dining room, not the front door. She dug in her heels. “I was told you wanted to see a house out in the foothills.”
“Ross said you hadn’t had a chance to eat before you went out to show the other place.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Yes, you are. Your stomach just growled.”
The host looked as though he expected them. “Right this way.” He led them to a small private table overlooking the gardens.
Mitch held her chair. “We can talk over lunch.”
She couldn’t refuse without making a scene. Accepting the proffered menu, she pretended to read it. “So what would you like to know about the house?”
“Give it a rest.”
Too nervous to eat, she ordered a small salad. Mitch ordered a steak. Her palms sweated when he looked at her over the table, green eyes glowing. She figured it was time to lay out the ground rules. “I don’t go out with clients.”
“No problem.”
“And I don’t like games.”
“No game intended. I couldn’t think of any other way to get you to go out with me.”
“You might not be so interested if you knew the facts.”
“So tell me.”
Okay. Better now than later, when it would hurt more. “While Charlie was being a hero in Vietnam, I was burning my bra, smoking pot, and protesting the war in Berkeley, not that it did any good. The day my parents got the news Charlie had been killed, I took off for Haight-Ashbury. Everything you’ve heard goes on there? I did it all. I don’t even remember how many guys I slept with. I was too stoned to care. When my best friend died of a heroin overdose, I left the commune and lived in Golden Gate Park. I slept in public restrooms, on park benches, and under bushes. I ate out of garbage cans. You met my daughter, May Flower Dawn. How’d I get her? I was cold one night. A stranger offered to share his sleeping bag. My baby is the only thing about my life I don’t regret.”