Marta's Legacy Collection (96 page)

“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.

Carolyn dumped peels into the coffee can under the sink. The meat browned in an iron skillet while she diced vegetables. Her mother hadn’t said a word in thirty minutes. Carolyn wanted to suggest her mother think about moving in with her and Mitch. They had plenty of room. Mom could have the never-used maid’s quarters. The apartment had a nice bedroom, private bathroom, sitting room, and kitchenette. Her mother wouldn’t even have to eat at the same table with them if she didn’t want to. But Carolyn knew better. Her mother would make some lame excuse about not wanting to be a burden. If May Flower Dawn wasn’t there, Mom had no interest in being there either.

Still, she needed to make amends. Carolyn sat at the nook table. “I never meant to hurt your feelings, Mom. I worry about you out here all by yourself.” She didn’t want to remind her of the fall that had left her limping for weeks.

Her mother looked like a little girl lost. “Do you?”

“Yes. Especially this time of the year. If this rain keeps up, the roads will close. What if something happened?”

“I haven’t fallen again.” Hildie looked toward the back door. “I hope Dawn gets here soon.”

Dawn. Mom’s only concern.

Carolyn let the hurt slide like water off a gull’s back and admonished herself for wishing Mom could make a little space in her heart for her. Life didn’t always work out the way you wished. At least she had Mitch and Christopher. “I forgot to call Mitch. My cell phone won’t work out here. Do you mind if I use your phone?”

“Go ahead.”

Carolyn lifted the receiver. Nothing. She checked the cord, just to be sure it hadn’t been unplugged accidentally. “Too late. The phone lines are down.”

“Here comes a car. Do you think it could be Dawn?” Mom headed for the door, flipping on the porch light before going out with her umbrella.

Carolyn shoved the chair back and followed. Mom had left her standing in the rain for five minutes, but now opened the gate and stood waiting with the umbrella as May Flower Dawn drove up the hill. Carolyn stood under the gate overhang as her daughter parked.

Mom didn’t wait for Dawn to get out of the car before going out and making sure she was protected from the rain. Carolyn could barely catch a glimpse of her daughter as she maneuvered herself out of the front seat. “Well, look at you!” Mom laughed. They hugged. They chattered.

Carolyn shivered, rain dripping down the back of her neck. Wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the chill, she waited for them to remember her.

Not surprisingly, it was Dawn who did. She stepped out of her grandmother’s embrace and came to Carolyn. “I’m so glad you came.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Carolyn smiled, feeling teary at the sight of her daughter. “You’re looking in full bloom.” Dawn and Jason had waited a long time for this baby. It was a time for joy. When Dawn threw her arms around her, she gave a soft gasp.

Dawn held tight. “I’ve been dreaming about this for days.”

Carolyn lifted a tentative hand to her daughter’s back, disturbed by the embrace. It wasn’t their usual way. “Of coming home to Jenner?”

Dawn drew back and gave a wobbly smile. “Of having a few days alone with you and Granny. I . . .” She wiped rain from her face—or was she crying? “I’m just so
happy
!”

“Well, that’s good, honey, but you’re getting wet.” Carolyn’s mother looped her arm around Dawn and herded her through the gate. “Let’s get you inside where it’s warm.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Are you coming?”

Carolyn supposed that was as warm an invitation as she would get.

Dawn smelled something wonderful when she walked in the back door. “Stone soup!” She hadn’t had it in over a year.

Granny chuckled, hazel eyes bright with joy. “You’d better be hungry. Your mother made enough to feed an army.” She took Dawn’s bag. “You’re sleeping in the blue room, honey. I don’t want you having to go out in the rain, and those stairs can be awfully slick. We can’t have any accidents.” She set the bag inside the bedroom, then drew Dawn into the living room. “Why did you rent a car? Someone could have met you at the airport.” Granny sat in her recliner.

Dawn eased her body onto the faded blue sofa. “It’s not a rental. It’s my car.”

Mom sat in one of the swivel chairs near the fireplace. “You drove?”

“Yep.” Dawn tried to make light of it.

“All the way across country in winter?” Granny stared at her. “In your condition?”

Dawn felt the tears coming. “I wanted to come home.” She bowed her head and ran her hand over her swollen belly. “Don’t ask me why. I know it was crazy. I just packed and came.” She raised her head and smiled at her mom first, then Granny. “I want to have my baby here.”

Granny frowned. “In Jenner?”

Dawn giggled. “No, Granny. In California, in Healdsburg or Santa Rosa. I want to be close to family and friends.” She wasn’t ready to talk about everything, not five minutes after she’d arrived, maybe not tonight or tomorrow morning either. “I didn’t want to be alone.”

“Well, that makes perfect sense.” Granny leaned back, making herself comfortable. “When the baby is born, you can come out here and stay until Jason comes home. Then you can fly back to New Jersey to meet him.” Granny, taking over again. Mom didn’t argue. Dawn sensed the hurt she tried to hide and gave her an apologetic smile. “I hope you can get your money back for the airline tickets, Mom. It was important I be with both of you.”

“Well, of course, it is.” Granny nodded. “Your mom understands. This is where you belong.”

Granny meant with her, at Jenner. Dawn saw that’s the way her mother understood it, too, and spoke quietly. “I don’t want to be in between anymore.”

Granny frowned. “What do you mean ‘in between’?”

“Between you and Mom.” Dawn glanced from one to the other. “We three have a lot to talk about.”

Granny’s expression soured. “I should’ve known. Dawn drives all the way across country in the winter, and you say you don’t know a thing about it.” Granny glared at Mom. “I suppose you want me to believe you didn’t tell her you’ve been after me to sell and move.”

“I didn’t.”

“I don’t believe you!”

Mom hunched her shoulders and looked away, fixing her gaze somewhere outside the window. How many times had Dawn seen this happen before? Anytime an argument arose between her and Granny, Mom pulled inside herself like a turtle in its shell. The only one who had ever been able to coax her out was Mitch, and he kept Mom’s confidences.

“Mom didn’t say anything to me, Granny. This is the first I’ve heard of any discussion of you leaving Jenner.”

“You don’t have to pretend, Dawn.” Rain blasted the window, even as the storm in Granny’s eyes grew.

“Are you going to accuse me of lying, too?”

“It’s all right, Dawn. Don’t put yourself in the middle. I think I’ll see about dinner.” Mom got up slowly and went into the kitchen, closing the door behind herself.

Dawn hurt inside. This wasn’t the beginning she wanted. She looked at Granny sadly. “I wouldn’t lie to you and neither would Mom.” She held out her hand. Granny took it. “But now that you’ve brought it up, it might be time to think about moving.” She squeezed Granny’s hand before she let go and pushed herself up. She didn’t want Mom hiding in the kitchen.

“Just leave her alone.” Granny gave a weary sigh. “She’ll come back when she’s ready.”

“I need to use the bathroom.” Dawn rubbed the small of her back. “I hope you’ll apologize when she comes back.”
God, You got me all the way across the country. Please get me through this, too!

When she came out of the bathroom, Mom sat at the kitchen nook table, face in her hands. Granny still sat in the corner recliner in the living room. Dawn felt the tears rise again; she hadn’t been here fifteen minutes and she was right back in the middle. Granny’s head lifted as Dawn stepped toward the living room. “Come on in and sit down, Dawn.”

“Why don’t you come in here, Granny? I’ll fix some tea.”

Granny glowered at both of them. “I don’t want to talk about moving.”

“Why not?”

“Look around.” Granny’s shoulders slumped. “And I’m not talking about the million-dollar view. I’m talking about—” she waved her hand like a white flag—“everything.”

Dawn understood. “I have to pare down every time Jason and I move, Granny. I pick what means the most and sell or give away the rest.”

“Well, it all means something to me, honey. There’s a story behind everything in this house. You know how much Papa loved this place. It was his last big project.” Granny’s eyes grew moist as she looked at Mom. “It might not mean anything to you, Carolyn, but Dawn understands.”

Mom didn’t even try to defend herself.

“I understand, Granny, but Papa wouldn’t want you living here alone.” She didn’t let Granny’s look of hurt silence her. “If you wait too long, someone else will have to make all the decisions—what to keep, what to throw away.”

Granny got up. “Well, that would be fine with me. When I’m dead, I won’t care anymore.” She dumped her tea in the sink. “Have it your way, Carolyn. If you’re that set on getting me out of this house, go on down to the garage and get started sorting.” She slammed her mug on the counter. “I’m going to turn on the TV and see how bad this storm is going to be.” Granny went into the living room.

Dawn sighed. “I’m sorry, Mom. I was trying to help.”

Mom shrugged. “It’s not your fault. It is overwhelming.”

Dawn smiled at her. “What was that you used to say? First things first.”

“One day at a time.”

“Granny loves you, Mom.”

Mom made a soft sound of doubt, got up, and put her mug carefully on the counter. “I think I’ll take advantage of the moment.” She took her jacket by the door and went out.

Dawn went into the living room. Granny tipped her recliner up and peered around her. “Your mother isn’t leaving, is she?”

“Would you care if she did?”

“Of course, I’d care.” She started to push herself up from the chair.

“It’s all right, Granny. She’s going to the garage.”

“Why?”

“You told her to get started, didn’t you?”

Granny sank back in her chair. “I didn’t mean
now
.” She frowned. “It’s freezing out there. It’ll be dark soon.”

“She’s not going anywhere, Granny. I think she just needs to be alone for a while.”

“She’s always preferred her own company.”

Dawn sat on the couch. Sonoma County was on the national news. “Another storm coming in tonight . . .” Aerial film crews showed the Russian River at flood level. The vineyards around Wohler Bridge were underwater. So were the ones near the Korbel Winery. The roads had closed. The river had risen high enough to close the Safeway in Guerneville.