Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
36
DAWN
Once upon a time, there was a girl who wanted to feel the wind in her hair and her feet pounding against the ground, who wanted to leave her cares behind in a cloud of dust and focus on the bright sun of each new day.
Once upon a time, there was a girl who found a place that felt like home and quicksand all at the same time. A place she wished she could wrap around her like a warm blanket and wriggle free from, like rope binds.
Once upon a time, there were nine men who held her hand and tried to show her that constantly moving on wasn’t what made her heart sing. That friendship and love give life its meaning.
Once upon a time there was a girl who felt the power of the ocean, and the passion of nine men. A girl who heard wise words and felt tired to the marrow of her bones.
Once upon a time, there was a girl who decided she couldn’t live under the shadow of fear anymore.
37
DAWN
My fingers tremble as I clasp the phone and dial the number I’ve long been avoiding. I take a deep breath and raise it to my ear, listening for the international dial tone. The beat of my heart accelerates at such a pace that it makes me feel woozy.
Logan, understanding the dread and fear pulsating through every cell of my body, reaches out and places a big, warm, strong hand in the middle of my back. The contact is like a weight on a helium balloon, suddenly anchoring me to the ground.
"You can do this," he says softly. "You’re ready."
Am I? the little voice of doubt whispers in my mind. For all my resolve, I’ve been bowing to fear for so long that it’s hard to shake off. Hang up, the voice whispers. There’s still time.
But with Logan next to me - brave Logan who’s been through so much and has come out the other side stronger and wiser - I don’t give in.
"Hello, Dr. Castor’s office." The receptionist sounds oddly cheerful today, but maybe it’s just that her mood is not clouded like mine.
"Hi, yes. It’s Dawn Mitchell for Dr. Castor. He’s expecting my call."
"Ah, yes. Dawn. Hold the line and I’ll put you through."
Logan is still as he stands beside me, listening to what's being said by craning a little closer to the phone. I don’t mind him listening. Whatever I find out, I know I won’t be able to hide my reaction. Good or bad, the news is going to make me crumble.
"Dawn. It’s good to hear from you," Dr. Castor says warmly.
"I wish I could say the same thing." My voice is breathy and my throat catches on the last word.
"I know this process has been difficult for you. It’s to be expected. At least, what I mean to say is that no one knows how they will react to this kind of thing until they’re in your position."
"My dad has been frustrated with me," I admit. "He’s the kind of man who faces things head on. He struggled with understanding my decision to avoid finding out the answer."
"Yes. I understand that. But it’s your body and your life. If you find out, you won’t just be able to forget if it’s painful. That knowledge will always be with you. You have to be sure you want to know and accept that there may be consequences to knowing."
"I am," I say, suddenly more confident. "It’s time. I’ve run from it for long enough."
"Well, then." Paper crackles at the other end of the line, raising my anxiety until my heart feels like it’s going to burst from my chest. "Your tests were conducted over twelve months ago." There’s a pause, I assume, because he’s reading my results in front of him. "I can confirm that you are not carrying the gene, Dawn."
When my knees go out from under me, Logan is there to catch me. I don’t even have the strength to hold the phone to my ear, such is the overwhelming sense of relief at finally knowing I’m going to be okay.
All the catastrophizing I’ve done since Mom passed away falls away from me like ash caught by the wind. I’m so relieved that there’s no space for the emotion of happiness. Not yet, anyway.
Logan takes my hand and supports the phone.
"Dawn, are you there?"
"Yes," I say, as tears leak from my eyes and drift in cool trails down my hot cheeks.
"It’s good news. I’m so pleased to be able to give you the result you wanted to hear."
"I’m so pleased too." I don’t tell him that there’s a tiny part of me, one that doesn’t make any sense at all, that feels guilty. For a long time, I’ve wondered if my life was going to be cut short like my mom’s. In a strange kind of way, that uncertainty was a kind of connection. Now I know I haven’t inherited the gene, that connection feels severed.