Chapter 4

The Lord lives! Praise be to my Rock!

Exalted be God my Savior!

Psalm 18:46

"Mom, I don't know what to do about her," Anna said, plopping down onto the barstool seats that were aligned on the opposite side of the kitchen island.

Mrs. Hanson smiled as she spread flour over the sheet. By the pepperoni and mozzarella cheese lying out on the counter beside the flour, Anna could tell there would be pizza for dinner. Her mother knew the key recipe for homemade pizza, and it was always delicious with all the perfect seasonings and herbs.

"Why are you smiling?" asked Anna impatiently. She was not normally irritated with her mother, but after a stressful day of trying to help Dawn, she was not in the mood to decipher her mother's facial expressions. "Dawn needs…"

"She just needs to be comforted. I think that's the best thing you can do for her right now," Mrs. Hanson said. "When your father died, Anna, did you really want everybody to be shouting sermons in your face? Giving you advice about God?"

Anna shook her head. It had been that way, too. Everybody had been telling her that this was possibly the will of God, and she hadn't taken it in the best way. No matter whether the advice was right or wrong, she hadn't been willing to take it, not when she just needed comfort. She just needed her dad back. He had the best advice, and she didn't want to take any from anyone else, especially these strangers she didn't know that thought they were being helpful. Was that what it was really like for Dawn? Was Anna making it worse by trying to tell Dawn about God?

"I just think that if she knew God that everything would be better for her," Anna sighed. "You know she needs Him."

Mrs. Hanson was still smiling. "Yes, but then again, everybody needs God. I think that we should just stand back and let her figure things out by herself. Maybe your theories and explanations are just making her mind more muddled than before. We never know."

"I know how it was when Dad died, Mom," Anna said. "I don't know how I would have gotten through that without God, without the advice Dad gave me about Him. I was just thinking that…"

"Dawn was just like you?" Mrs. Hanson began to spread the dough out into a circle. With her other recipe, the one that didn't require so much attention and that Mom normally made when in need of mass quantities, she could toss it up in the air instead of using her fingers to shape the dough. "Dawn is a whole other person. She's not exactly like you."

"But I thought that no matter how different people are, they all have a God-shaped hole inside their hearts," Anna argued.

"Dawn's burden would be eased if it were shared by the Lord, Anna, that's true. And, yes, everybody, despite all their differences, needs God. But most people don't realize that, and I think Dawn has too much on her mind right now to worry about something as big as God," Mrs. Hanson reasoned in her soft, smooth voice. It was soothing. No matter how big problems were, Mom always had an explanation or consolation.

Anna sighed and her mouth watered in anticipation as her mother made the crust.

Dawn came home that afternoon, wondering about everything Anna had said. It wasn't anything new. Anna had always said that she needed God, that everything would be better with someone to confide in. But wasn't Anna enough?

Anna will soon get sick of hearing all your problems, Dawn, she told herself. Anna had already heard enough about her horrible life. How many times had Anna volunteered her bedroom, made breakfast for her in the morning? How many times had her best friend supplied a comfort, a solace away from her mother?

Mom's voice came drifting in from the living room. "Dawn, is that you?"

"Yeah, Mom," Dawn said quietly, knowing that it would seem like she was talking loud as it was. Hangovers, she sighed. "You need anything?"

"I need…" Mom whispered. "I need Dan!"

Dawn sat down gently onto the couch beside her mother and frowned at the fact that the bottles were cleaned up and Mom's alcohol and throw-up covered clothes had been changed. "Momma, you don't need any man to help you do anything. It's Dan's loss, really. He's the one that needs you." She knew the last two sentences weren't true, but right now Momma needed comfort.

Mom nodded and lay back on the couch once more.

"Who cleaned up the mess, Mom?" Dawn wasn't able to hold her curiosity in any longer. It couldn't have been any relative; every member of the family denied any kinship to Sheila at all.

"Dan," Mom whispered. "He stopped by and cleaned up the mess and put me to bed with clean clothes on. It would have been nice to marry him."

Dawn nearly swore. Dan came? He knew Mom would be screwed up because of his 'breakup'? What was he doing… was he apologizing for everything?

"I'll be right back, Momma," Dawn said, laying her hand atop her mother's head for a brief second before going into her room and picking up the phone. She dialed Dan's number; the one Mom had put on a huge piece of paper in big, bold, permanent marker and stuck it on the fridge with a magnet.

"Sheila…" Dan's tired voice said. "What..."

He must have caller ID, Dawn thought. "Dan, this is Dawn." She hadn't realized that her name was only one letter off from his.

"Oh, hi, Dawn," Dan said, suddenly sounding more cheerful. He sounded almost relieved that it wasn't her mother that had called him.

"Why did you stop by last night to help my mom?" asked Dawn. She was not going to ask him in any roundabout way. She wasn't going to be subtle about asking him anything. This time, she was going to know all about this guy, and she was going to straighten everything out.

"Because I felt bad," Dan answered as directly as she had asked the question.

"Felt bad for what? What exactly did you say to her?" Dawn asked. She realized she sounded much more accusatory than she'd wanted. It didn't matter, as long as she got her answer.

"Look, don't go defending your mom or anything. Don't go assuming that it's my entire fault, because—"

"Dan, I'm not! Just answer me. It's kind of hard to understand Mom when she's drunk. You of all people should know that. Obviously I'm not exactly too clear on what happened last night. You called the wedding off?" Dawn asked.

"Dawn, I'm sorry. I just can't marry your mom," he sighed exasperatedly. "Please, don't blame me."

"Actually, Dan," Dawn said quietly. She was near tears. "I don't blame you a bit. It's just… you were the one person, the one boyfriend that actually made Mom happy. She hadn't come home in a mess for weeks, even since she met you, all except for last night. I thought everything was going to be all right, but now—"

Dawn could tell the man was miserable by the tone of his voice when he said, "What do you expect me to do? I'm so sorry, Dawn, but I can't just live with her always being like that."

"You didn't even get to experience her at her worst, Dan!" Dawn shouted into the phone. "Now, without you in our lives, I have to deal with that every day. Do you realize what you're doing? You're dumping her on me! I thought that maybe if she married you that perhaps I could get on with my life, maybe take the classes that I failed over again. Maybe be myself without having to worry about my mom. Maybe I could get a job and go to college. But now that's all gone. My hope is gone." Fighting hysteria, Dawn clamped the phone into its cradle and lay on her bed and wept.

The 'God-shaped hole' part I added as part of Anna's argument is a theme from a song. I've heard it used elsewhere, but just to make sure it's not completely Plumbs, idea: God-shaped hole is the title of a song by Plumb, a Christian rock band, in the CD 'Candy-Coated Water Drops'.