Dawn of Eve, MJ Howson [lightweight ebook reader TXT] 📗

of conflicting thoughts. All summer, Jacob had been supportive of her therapy sessions. But also more and more distant as each week passed. On the rare occasion that they made love, Jacob always ended things abruptly.

“You never answered my question,” Dawn said. “About wanting kids. Is that why you always pull out?”

“What?”

“When we have sex. You never . . . .” Dawn glanced around at the tables scattered around them. She lowered her voice to a whisper and leaned forward. “It’s like you’re afraid you’ll get me pregnant again.”

Jacob shifted uncomfortably in his chair and ran a fingernail against the scar on his lip. He sighed and said, “Like I just said, a baby is the last thing you should be thinking about right now. I’m doing what’s best for you.”

“What’s best for me?” Dawn glared at Jacob, taken aback by his comment. “So, you don’t want kids, do you?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Go ahead. Say it!”

“Can you please lower your voice?”

Dawn looked around the restaurant as even more eyes settled on their table. The excess booze, coupled with Jacob’s disappointing reaction, caused Dawn to become quite upset. She sighed as she took another sip of coffee. A shadow slowly loomed over her. Dawn looked up to see their waiter standing there smiling.

“Is everything okay?” the waiter asked.

“My apologies,” Jacob said. “I think she’s had a bit too much to drink.” He handed the waiter the bill with his credit card. “Everything’s been lovely this evening.”

The waiter smiled, nodded, and walked away.

Dawn glanced across the table. Jacob was still staring at her. She looked away and sighed. Without looking at Jacob, she said, “I’m . . . I’m sorry I yelled.”

“Dawn, what if you got pregnant this month and had another miscarriage next month?”

“Don’t say that!” Dawn grabbed the napkin from her lap and wiped the tears that began spilling uncontrollably from her eyes. “How could you say such a thing?”

“To make my point.” Jacob reached across the table and took Dawn’s trembling hands into his. “If even the thought of a miscarriage sends you into tears, you aren’t ready to get pregnant.”

Dawn ran her thumbs across Jacob’s fingers. His grip was gentle yet firm. She nodded as she allowed his words to settle on her heart.

“Just focus on getting over the loss,” Jacob said. “Work with your doctor, okay? We can talk about this another time.”

“Sure.”

The waiter returned, surprising Dawn with a customized menu for her to take home. The menu contained a birthday wish along with everything they’d ordered to celebrate. Dawn smiled as she read through the details. She looked over at Jacob and said, “Thank you, Jacob. This . . . this evening was truly lovely.”

“You know I only want what’s best for you.”

The baritone burble of the Dodge Challenger’s 5.7-liter V8 engine greeted Dawn and Jacob curbside as they left the restaurant. The chauffeur smiled as he held the limo’s door open. Dawn found herself lightheaded from the amount of alcohol she’d consumed. She did her best to forget the argument that marked the end of their evening.

As the car pulled away, Dawn slid closer to Jacob. He put his arm around her and pulled her head against his chest. The woody scent of his Bulgari cologne always brought her a bit of comfort. Dawn closed her eyes and said, “We’ll get through this, Jacob. I know we will.”

Ten

Dreams

Dawn emerged from Mercado Little Spain, a coffee in one hand, a small bag with her miguelito pastry in the other. The crisp air should have refreshed her, but she felt no joy. She took the stairs up one level and entered the main public garden area beside Nieman Marcus. A mix of tourists and locals meandered throughout the huge plaza. As she approached the Vessel, she noticed Joe waving to get her attention.

The Vessel, as always, gave Dawn pause. She flipped her Prada sunglasses atop her head and stared at the towering copper beehive structure, wondering if she’d ever go inside. There was a romance about the multi-level design. Dawn found the interlocking layers mesmerizing. Perhaps it was how the light played off the complex twisting copper surfaces. Maybe it was the couples she often noticed enjoying a warm embrace on one of the upper levels. She made a mental note to consider painting it someday.

“Good morning, Miss Easton,” Joe said, waking Dawn from her trance. “Summer’s gone, isn’t it?”

“What?” Dawn replied. “Oh. The weather.”

“We’ve still got a couple of weeks left, but every year like clockwork Mother Nature just kills the warmth after Labor Day.”

A thin insulated jacket complimented Joe’s typical summertime security uniform this morning. The temperature hovered around sixty degrees, with a strong breeze coming in from the river. He looked Dawn up and down, inspecting her full-length black raincoat.

“Are we getting rain today?” Joe asked.

“No. No, I . . . I just felt like wearing this.”

“I haven’t seen you in a while. You doing okay?”

For some reason, Dawn always found it easy to talk with Joe. He never judged her, and she found that comforting.

“I’ve . . . I’ve been better.” Dawn motioned toward a nearby set of stairs. Sadly there weren’t any benches in the plaza. Joe followed her and stood nearby, keeping an eye on the passersby. Dawn took a seat, resting her coffee by her side. She reached into the bag, grabbed her pastry, and took a small bite. “It’s these dreams. They come and go. I can go days and sleep great. Weeks even. But then, for no reason, I wake up screaming. I had one again last night.”

“Screaming? They sound more like nightmares.”

“It’s . . . it’s my daughter. She’s haunting me.”

“Daughter?”

“The baby I lost back in May.”

“Oh.” Joe scratched his chin as he watched an unshaven teenager walk by with a backpack flung over his shoulder. He glanced down at Dawn. “And you’re sure the person in your dream is your unborn daughter?”

“I do. She looks like me.