“Oh.” Pinched by guilt, Dawn winced.
Pam frowned. “I can’t remember where he went. He doesn’t come home very often.” She shrugged. “San Diego, maybe.” She moved on to other subjects.
Jason Steward. Dawn’s mind drifted into a vortex of bittersweet memories. Sending up a quick prayer, she asked God’s blessing on him and let him go.
Mom and Mitch sat Dawn down and told her they intended to pay for her last two years of college. The first two years hadn’t cost them anything, and they’d set aside money that would enable her to concentrate on school instead of having to work a part-time job. When she argued, Mitch turned adamant. “You’ve done nothing but study and work the last three years, Dawn. You have no life.”
“I go to church. I go to the college group.”
“Two hours a week.”
“Everyone works. You work; Mom works.”
“You’re nineteen. You should have a little time to enjoy life.”
Mitch handed her a checkbook and told her how much would be deposited each month-enough for tuition, books, and a studio apartment. He also handed over a credit card and gave her a limit, plenty for living expenses like food and gas. She’d even have enough to pay for car insurance.
Stunned, Dawn felt the tears coming. “You don’t have to do this, Mitch.”
Mitch’s mouth tipped. “I’m not, Pita. It’s all your mother’s doing.”
Mom shook her head. “Don’t, Mitch.”
He ignored her. “She’s been banking her commissions since we married just so she could give you this gift. If you say no, I swear I’ll turn you over my knee.”
“Mom… I…”
Mom shrugged. “I didn’t get to give you a car.”
Dawn’s smile trembled. “This is a whole lot more than a car.”
“It hurts to see you work so hard to…” Mom stood abruptly and went to the kitchen counter, where she picked up some papers. “You’ll need to find a place soon. I have a list of apartment complexes that offer furnished studios.” She put them on the table. “The ones closest to campus are highlighted. You’ll have to stay in a hotel while you’re looking. I have a list of those as well.” She stood, hands gripping the back of a chair. “You’re going to be on your own.” Her eyes filled.
“She’ll be coming home for vacations.” Mitch put his arm around Dawn’s shoulders. “Won’t you?”
It sounded more a command than a question. “Yes.” She looked at her mother. “And you’ll come down, too, I hope.”
Dawn drove to San Luis Obispo the beginning of August. She listened to the radio on the drive, music interspersed with news reports of the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait, and the first U.S. troops being deployed to Saudi Arabia. Mitch had told her many high-ranking U.S. military officers were veterans of Vietnam. This war would be swift and decisive. Dawn thought of the uncle she had never met who died in Vietnam, and she turned off the radio.
The skies were clear that afternoon and cloudy the next morning when she arose. She left her things at Motel 6 and headed out to find a furnished studio apartment close to campus for a price she was willing to pay. She didn’t want to blow through her mother’s gift like found money, but use it wisely.
After three days, she signed a rental agreement with Bishop Peak Apartments. Her studio had a kitchenette with a small table and two chairs. The living room and bedroom were divided by an accordion partition. On one side was a sofa, one chair, a coffee table, and a hanging lamp, and on the other a full-size bed with two simple side tables and two cheap lamps. After her designer-decorated bedroom in Alexander Valley, it seemed drab, but she reminded herself of Mexico and felt thankful.
As soon as the phone service had been turned on, she called Mom with the new number. Then she called Granny and talked about the trip down, the hunt for an apartment, what she had seen of the town. “I’m going to try one of the churches tomorrow.”
“You sound lonely, honey.”
“A little, I guess. I’ll get used to being on my own.”
Over the next few days, Dawn took long walks around campus, familiarizing herself with its main buildings, the library, the dining complex. Hills dotted with oaks rose around campus with Bishop Peak in the distance. Sitting on a bench, Dawn watched others pass by. Was she really hearing God’s voice about Cal Poly? Or had she come three hundred miles from home on some sort of delusion?
Once Dawn knew her way around the campus, she took drives to the Pacific beaches, coastal dunes, ridges, forests, and nearby lakes. She spent an afternoon at the mission, wandering through the garden with its fountain and statue of Father Junipero Serra and sitting in the chapel praying God would lead her in the days ahead.
She met with Mrs. Townsend, a college counselor, who helped her plan out schedules to earn her degree as quickly as possible. Mrs. Townsend looked dubious. “If you find what we’ve laid out too ambitious, you can drop a course.”
Classes started, and the first weeks felt like a grueling marathon of lectures, reading, studying. A throng of students moved from building to building. Dawn felt overwhelmed by the numbers. SRJC had nearly as many students, but somehow it had felt smaller to her, less intense.
She hated studying in her drab apartment and started going to the Robert Kennedy Library instead. She preferred the smell of books, the soft sound of footsteps and hushed voices, to the silence in her studio or someone partying nearby. She felt more at home in the stacks than in her flat.
Around lunchtime one day in the library, her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Glancing at her wristwatch, she saw she had less than an hour before chemistry class. She didn’t have time to run to the dining complex and stand in line for a full meal. The eggs and toast she’d eaten for breakfast wouldn’t carry her through the whole day.
Gathering her notes, textbook, and purse, she headed for the library cafe. Better a cup of coffee and pastry than nothing.
She’d just finished a blueberry scone and half her coffee when Jason Steward walked in. Dawn’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach.
She stared, trying to calm the tumble of emotions. Jason was even more handsome than she remembered. Short hair suited him. He looked tan and fit, taller and broader through the shoulders. He was with two other young men and a pretty girl with shoulder-length dark hair and a bright, sunny smile. Was she his girlfriend? A sharp stab of pain went through her heart. She thought she’d gotten over him.
As the four made their selections, paid, got their coffee, and sat across the room, Dawn drank in the sight of him. He talked easily, laughing at something one of the boys said. He pulled out the chair for the girl. He sat with his back to Dawn, but one of his friends noticed her and smiled. She’d seen that same smile on a dozen other male faces in the last few weeks. It usually predicated an attempt to start a conversation or ask her out. Dawn averted her eyes so he wouldn’t be encouraged.
A few seconds later, she glanced over again and found Jason half turned in his chair, staring at her. Surprise didn’t begin to describe the expression on his face. A flood of feelings swept over Dawn. Her smile felt stiff, her insides like Jell-O. When Jason scraped his chair back, she went hot and cold all over. He said something to the others and rose. The girl looked past him to Dawn.
Breathing in slowly, trying to slow her rapid-fire heartbeat, Dawn watched Jason cross the room. She offered a tremulous smile. He didn’t seem happy to see her. He stood at her table, hands gripping the back of the chair. “What are you doing here?”
Why did he sound angry? He’d been the one to initiate their breakup. “I’m having coffee.”
“I don’t mean that. I mean here, on campus.”
“I’m a student.”
“A student?” He frowned.
“I’m in the nursing program.”
Emotion flickered, and then his mouth flattened. “You could’ve gone anywhere.” His hazel eyes cooled.
