California Diaries #7: Dawn, Diary Two by Jennifer Burns Read Free Book Online

it was ringing with congratulations from people who had heard about the baby from the people he had called.
    Around noon, Dad and I drove to the hospital together. “After I see Carol and Gracie,” he said, “I have to drop in at the office for a couple of hours. Mrs. Bruen is coming over this afternoon. She can give you a ride home.”
    “Perfect,” I said. “I want to have time to visit Mrs. Winslow too.”
    Dad was going straight to maternity on the third floor, but I got off the elevator at the cancer care unit on the second floor. There were no excited fathers on the second floor. No glowing mothers. No newborns. I walked down the hall past rooms of very sick and dying people. A shiver went down my spine and I felt overwhelmingly sad.
    On this floor people were fighting for their lives. Some of them would die. Their loved ones were helping them leave the world. On the third floor infants were being helped into the world.
    I took a deep breath, put a smile on my face, and walked into Mrs. Winslow’s
    room.
    She was sitting up in a chair looking out the window. “Hi,” I said softly. She turned to me. Two little tubes came out of her nostrils and were connected to an oxygen tank. “Sun—Dawn, she said. “Hi. At first I thought you were Sunny.”
    “I have good news,” I told her.
    “The baby?”
    I nodded. Then I sat on the edge of the bed and told her everything. I realized that Mr. Winslow had told her Gracie had been born but still she wanted to know every one of my details.
    “I love newborns,” she told me. “I always wanted more children. There was one miscarriage after Sunny. Then no more pregnancies.” She smiled. “I was very blessed to have Sunny.”
    I thought angrily that Sunny wasn’t much of a blessing to anyone these days. But I pushed the thought away. I didn’t want any negative energy in Mrs. Winslow’s room.
    Mrs. Winslow reached over and patted my hand. “Tell me again what the baby
    looks like.”
    The skin on Mrs. Winslow’s hand and arm was transparent and wrinkled. She
    was very thin. I thought of the expression “skin and bones.”
    “Okay,” I said. “But I think I can do better than that. I want to take you to see her.”
    For an instant Mrs. Winslow looked excited by the idea. Then a cloud passed
    over her face. “Oh, I can’t go,” she said.
    “I bet the nurses would let you.”
    ‘It’ll be so depressing for Carol and everyone. I mean, it’s such a happy time for them. They don’t want to see me.”
    My heart ached for Mrs. Winslow. She was worried about everyone but herself.
    “Don’t say that,” I said. “Don’t even think it. I want you to see Gracie. And you said yourself that you love newborns.” I stood up. “Let me at least ask the nurses, okay?”
    A big smile erupted on Mrs. Winslow’s face. A familiar twinkle came into her
    eyes. “Dawn, I can’t think of anything I’d rather do today than meet Elizabeth Grace Schafer-Olson,” she said.
    Her face was beautiful. She was beautiful. I thought, A person’s beauty is deep inside. It is even deeper than good health.
    We got permission right away from a nurse, who hurried off to find a wheelchair.
    I helped Mrs. Winslow get ready for our visit. She put on the bright blue silk robe Mr.
    Winslow and Sunny had given her for her birthday in April. She ran her hand over the shiny fabric. “Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked. “I love wonderful fabrics.”
    She was practically bald from the chemotherapy, so she decided to cover her head with a scarf. She picked out a pink-and-yellow-striped one from the stack of scarves she’d brought with her to the hospital. She wrapped it around her head and I tied it in a fancy knot at the nape of her neck.
    Next, she dabbed some powder on her cheeks. I held up her air tubes while she applied some pink lipstick. Finally, I helped her into the wheelchair.
    “Ready?” I said.
    “Ready!” she answered. She smiled up at me. “Thank you, Dawn.”
    I wheeled