“Why do you hate me so much?” Wrapping her arms around herself, Dawn fought for control.
“I don’t hate you. I just don’t like you. Why should I?
Dawn couldn’t raise her head.
“Look at me, Dawn.” When she managed to raise her head, Georgia stared at her. “What I see in front of me is a very pretty sixteen-year-old girl with no character and no substance. You have nothing at all to offer Jason, and you’re too willfully stupid and selfish to see or even care about the damage you’re doing to him. That’s not love. Not by any stretch of the imagination. You think you can live with your romantic daydreams. Fairy tales always end with ‘happily ever after,’ don’t they? You don’t know how wrong you are.”
When Georgia didn’t say anything more, Dawn spoke in a small voice. “Can I go now?”
“Please do. And don’t you dare come into this house again, not unless
Dawn got up quickly and headed for the door.
“One last thing.” Georgia still sat at the table, face turned away. “You’ll probably run straight to Jason and tell him everything I’ve said to you… or those parts that serve your purpose.” She looked at Dawn then, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “But remember this: Someday, Jason will grow up. And when he does, he’ll see the truth for himself.”
Dawn’s first instinct was to go to Granny and sob out her woe, but she quickly dismissed that idea. Dawn knew she could do no wrong in Granny’s eyes. Granny always took her side. If Granny knew she’d seduced Jason in the downstairs apartment, she’d be deeply hurt. She might start thinking Dawn was the kind of person who could live the wild life in Haight-Ashbury like her mother had.
What was Pastor Daniel saying to Jason right now? Was he hearing the same things Georgia Steward believed?
She drove aimlessly for an hour, then went home. Her mother had an open house. Mitch and Christopher had gone bowling. Dawn went straight to her bedroom. Stripping off her clothes, she took a long, hot shower. She scrubbed and still felt unclean. Hunkered in the corner of the shower, she sobbed as the water pounded her. The air thickened with steam. She felt no better when she stepped out and dried off. Pulling on sweats, she got into bed. She lay there for the rest of the day, going over and over what Jason’s mother had said.
“Dawn?” Mom tapped at the door. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
“I’m not hungry.” When Mom opened the door, Dawn covered her head with a pillow.
“Are you sick?”
Lovesick. Heartsick. Sick with shame. “Just go away, Mom. Please.” She half hoped her mother would press harder this time, but she left quietly, closing the door behind her.
Hours later, the door opened again, a spear of light from the hallway intruding. Mom came in this time. She didn’t turn on a light. She sat on the end of the bed, but didn’t say a word.
After fifteen minutes, Dawn couldn’t bear the silence. She whispered, “Would you hate me if I told you Jason and I have been having sex?”
“No.” No questions, just a firm response, then silence again.
Dawn sat up slowly, bunching the pillow tight against her chest, thankful for the darkness. She wouldn’t be able to see her mother’s disappointment. “I went to see him this morning. He wasn’t there. His mother talked to me.”
When Mom still didn’t ask anything, Dawn went on talking, slowly, painfully, until everything spilled out in a flood of tears. When Dawn finished, she pressed her face into the pillow already damp from an afternoon of weeping. She felt her mother’s hand on her head.
“Words can be a sword to the heart, Dawn.” Mom ran her fingers gently through Dawn’s hair. “Sometimes there’s truth in them. Sometimes there isn’t. Go over what Jason’s mother said to you. If there’s any truth in it, you’ll have to decide what to do with it. As to the rest, try to let it go.” Her hand lifted.
Dawn curled into a fetal position. Her mother stood and pulled the covers up, tucking them in around her as though she were a little girl again. Leaning down, she kissed Dawn and whispered, “And try to forgive.”
Jason called Sunday night. He said his mom told him she’d come by. He apologized for not being there. “Pastor Daniel took me out to the coast. I didn’t know he was coming until he showed up.”
She said it was okay. She and his mother talked. He wanted to know what about. She said nothing much. Just small talk.
“Dawn…” She knew by his tone what was coming. “I think maybe we should stop hanging out for a while.”
She couldn’t have prepared for the pain his words brought. She tried to press her lips together to keep from crying out. She hunched over, mouth open in agony. Shutting her eyes, she wanted to beg. She wanted to remind him they said they loved each other. Instead, she heard the echo of Georgia’s voice.
“Are you okay with that?” Jason sounded uncertain. Did he want her to say no? Did he want her to talk him out of it? And if she did, what then?
Dawn had spent all of Saturday night and all of Sunday thinking about what Jason’s mother had said, seeing the awful truth in it. Only one thing was false. She did love Jason.
She’d dreamed about Oma last night. She’d come like a vision, speaking words of wisdom.
Dawn knew what she wanted. She wanted to be Jason’s wife. She wanted to have his children. She wanted to spend her life with him. And now she’d ruined it all. What had she brought into his life? Sin. Regret. Fear. Shame.
“Dawn? Are you there?”
Her breath caught softly, throat thick with pain and tears. “I think you’re right.”
She went into the kitchen and told Mom and Mitch she and Jason had broken up. She asked if she could transfer to the independent study program. She didn’t have to explain why. Mom said she’d call the school Monday morning and do everything she could to make that happen.
Dawn didn’t return to youth group until Kim and Sharon told her Jason wouldn’t be coming back because of his job. “About the only time I see Jason is at church on Sunday,” Kim told her. “He comes with his mom. He doesn’t come by the house and talk with Dad anymore.”
A month after Jason broke up with her, Dawn came home from independent study and found a message on her answering machine. “I love you, Dawn.” His voice roused all the pain and longing she had tried so hard to push down. He cleared his throat as though having trouble speaking. “I’ll love you forever.”
