Dawn was ebullient; she'd looked that word up to make sure she was using it correctly, and there was no other word that could describe the way she was feeling. Even though mom and dad hadn’t been speaking much since she’d gotten back from D.C., it had so thoroughly been her day.
Everyone had applauded her; everyone in the whole school, even the people who made fun of her for being a freak had to give Dawn her due.
Corey Nelson, with his floppy, black hair and his piercing eyes who had never directly spoken to her before even though they'd been sitting next to each other in home room for the whole year had asked her to write song lyrics for his band.
The only smudge on her shining moment was that she hadn’t seen Mr. Pratt in the auditorium. Ms. Rosenberg was in the front row, clapping like a seal, but Mr. Pratt was nowhere to be seen. Dawn had had to wait until school was out before she could go talk to him, which was annoying, but it had still been an amazing day.
Her mom was going to be there in about ten minutes so Dawn hurried down the hallway to Mr. Pratt’s classroom, her heels clattering on the scuffed linoleum. Mom had let her borrow a pair of heels for the first time,another bonus. They were strappy and black and kind of hard to walk in. There wasn't anybody lingering by the rows of orange lockers that lined the white walls.
The sun was doing that glimmery thing where it catches the dust in the air; for some reason that time of afternoon always made Dawn feel heavy with sleepiness and another ten-cent word as dad liked to call them--melancholy. Not today though. She was floating.
Dawn shifted her book bag from one shoulder to the other and tugged at her denim skirt. When she and Janice were sizing up their best features one particularly boring night, her friend had said Dawn's legs were second only to her hair. The skirt was a no-brainer for her big day, especially after her dad suggested she change it for something not-so-short.
Weirdly, mom had actually defended her when they got into an argument about her clothes; mom who didn't want her dating until she was too old to be a sad, preggers teen like she'd been. Mom was acting so bizarre lately, she'd be super-happy one minute then quiet and depressed, strict then meek. Janice said it might be menopause, because that's when her mom started getting weird, but Janice's mom was almost sixty, so that didn't seem right.
Dawn stopped outside of the brown, lacquered door of Mr. Pratt's classroom to put on some cherry gloss that she kept in the front pocket of her book bag. As she was tracing the wand over her lower lip, she heard his voice.
"I'm sorry pet, just been so edgy lately. Quit more times than I can count, but you know how it is," Mr. Pratt said.
His name was printed neatly on a rectangle of blue construction paper and taped over the four-paned window, so Dawn couldn't see who he was talking to, but in a second, she knew.
"Sorry, I just see preemies all day long, and second-hand smoke is really bad for the baby," her mother said.
He was talking to her mother, about somebody pregnant. Dawn wondered why her mother was talking to Mr. Pratt, but she was more curious about who was going to have a baby. There was a rumor that Mr. Pratt and Ms. Rosenberg were getting it on in the library, but Dawn was pretty sure Ms. Rosenberg was totally gay, in an Ellen DeGeneres kind of way, not the hateful slur way. Maybe she wasn't. Still, Dawn couldn't picture Mr. Pratt with his sexy, Rupert Grint-like accent kissing Ms. Rosenberg. Dawn shifted on her feet in her not entirely comfortable borrowed heels hoping she was being quiet.
"It'll be easier to quit after they know, I think. Can't stand the thought of him, I mean I know that he hasn't, but still. It hurts to know I'm not the one you wake up next to," Mr. Pratt said.
Dawn felt like her chest was frozen. She could not breathe, she could not move.
"For me, too," her mother said.
“So when are you going to tell them?”
“Riley knows, I’m waiting until tomorrow to tell Dawn so I don’t ruin her big day,” her mother said.
"How'd he take it?" Mr. Pratt asked.
"He said if I were a man he would have punched me."
"Did he hurt you?"
"Of course not, but can you blame him for wanting to?" Dawn's mother asked. Dawn could hear tears in her mother's voice. She still couldn't really process what she'd just heard, but Dawn was glad her mother was crying. Dawn was fairly certain her mother deserved to be crying.
Dawn heard feet shuffling on the other side of the door.
"Don't, somebody could come in here," Dawn's mother said.
"I don't give a bloody damn."
"I do."
"Just for a minute, I need to," he said.
There was silence. Dawn peeked her head into the room. The two of them were standing behind the even rows of beige desks, the green chalkboard behind them like a frame. Mr. Pratt in his bright blue shirt and tweed pants was pressing an open palm on her mother's stomach. Both her mother's hands covered his. They looked like a family, a brand new family.
Dawn had heard the term seeing red before, but she'd never known it was a real thing. Her vision was flooded with red that seemed to vibrate in time with her heart. It was almost like a nightmare because she couldn't move or talk until Mr. Pratt raised his blue eyes and saw her standing in the doorway.
"Dawn," he said, slowly pulling away from her mother.
Her mother turned and saw her.
"You're pregnant?" Dawn asked. Her voice sounded like air escaping from a tire.
Her mom took a step towards her.
"Let's not do this here, Dawnie," her mom said.
Dawn stepped into the room and slammed the door.
"Oh, let's. I'm the last one to know, so who cares?"
"Yes, I'm pregnant," her mother said as she looked down at her folded hands.
"You're going to go live with Mr. Pratt now?"
"Well, I was thinking he’d probably live with us," her mother said.
Mr. Pratt was putting his hand on her mother's back, rubbing his hand up and down like he was trying to soothe her, like he'd done it a million times before. Like he was her boyfriend. Oh God.
"So you're kicking dad out because he's in a wheelchair," Dawn said.
"It's not that--"
"You're such a whore! I guess I should be grateful because without your whorishness I wouldn't be here but right now I kind of wish I'd never been born!"
"Hey, you shut your gob!" Mr. Pratt said.
He took a step toward Dawn with his fists balled up. Her mother grabbed his arm.
"Don't swear at my daughter in British," her mom said.
"I'm not your daughter anymore, so he can say whatever he wants!"
Dawn yanked open the classroom door and ran down the hall. Her mother caught up to her. Dawn whipped around with such force her hair fanned out and her book bag swung like a pendulum. She slapped her mother hard across the face. Her mom took a step back, her hand flying up to protect her burning cheek. Dawn covered her mouth in shock.
"I'm sorry," Dawn said.
Her mom gave Dawn a half smile.
"This better be your last Erica Kane moment or you will never not be grounded," her mother said.
They stood silently. Dawn could see Mr. Pratt leaning out of the door of his classroom, looking like he wanted to intervene. He didn't, though, and Dawn was glad.
"Let's go home, we can talk in the car," her mother said.
Her mother glanced back at Mr. Pratt and gave him a short wave. Dawn didn't look back. She didn’t think she was ever going to be able to look at Mr. Pratt again.
As soon as they were in the car with the doors safely shut, they picked up the fight.
"I don't want to live with you," Dawn said, clicking the metal fastener for her seatbelt in place. Dawn had her book bag in her lap; she needed something solid to hold.
"Tough," her mother said. Her mom buckled her seatbelt and concentrated on backing out of the parking lot instead of looking at Dawn. She watched her mother twisting at the waist to look behind her; her cream colored blouse bunching, her ankle-length, brown skirt slit up to the knee, her blonde hair falling out of her bun.
Her mother kissed Mr. Pratt. She had her tongue in Mr. Pratt's mouth. He probably brushed her mother's hair back behind her ear and called her love. They'd made a baby the way she'd first seen explained in health class and then more colorfully on the Internet.
Dawn shuddered. Life could not be more horrible than it was right now.
"Why should dad and I leave because you screwed up? The house is set up for dad, you can live anywhere," Dawn said.
"I grew up there."
"So did I," Dawn said.
Ha. Got you there.
"I don't want you to leave, you're my daughter so you're living with me," her mother said.
Her mom peered out the windshield with concentration, almost like she was avoiding looking at Dawn.
"I'm not abandoning dad just because you are. You have Mr. Pratt and your love child to keep you company, dad is alone. He needs me," Dawn said.
"I need you, too," her mother said.
"You should have thought of that before you slutted it up, then," Dawn said. She hugged her book bag. Her mother pursed her shiny lips; she'd put on gloss before she'd seen Mr. Pratt, too. I am nothing like her, Dawn thought.
"You don't understand."
"Because I'm a kid? I'm not a baby, mom and I understand sex. If you start talking about how you have certain needs I'm going to hurl all over your stupid, suede skirt," Dawn said. Her friend Renee's dad busted out that gem about "needs" when he cheated on Renee's mom with his secretary.
"I can't believe I'm about to say this to you, but it's not just about that. He's in my heart," her mother said.
"What about dad?"
"I love your dad, too," her mother said.
"But not enough to be faithful to him," Dawn said.
Her mother flexed her fingers on the gray, plastic steering wheel. Dawn noticed she wasn't wearing her wedding ring.
"I was wrong, and I'm sorry I hurt everybody, but I'm still your mom."
That was true. Mom was mom, but dad wasn't really her dad. No matter how much she wanted to stay with him instead of her mom and Mr. Pratt, her dad wasn't going to want her anymore.
"I don't care," Dawn said.
They pulled up to the house, Dawn's words still stinging the air. As soon as the car stopped she unbuckled her seatbelt and hopped out. She was able to get to the house without her mother catching up, so Dawn took the opportunity to slam the door in her mom's face. Dawn ran up the stairs to her bedroom and locked it. Part of her wanted to call Janice; part of her wanted to weep and never tell another living soul. Her perfect day. Right.
Dawn fwumped onto her unmade bed, burrowing under the white, down comforter. The bed was flush against the wall; she stared at the green and white striped wallpaper, wishing she could disappear. Dawn wondered how her mother could have done this to her; maybe she picked Mr. Pratt just because she knew Dawn liked him. He'd told her to shut her gob. So now that he as boning her mom, he was going to be mean, horrible step-dad cliche. Dawn couldn't count on much from the men in her life besides being disappointed by them.
Someone was knocking.
"Go away."
"Dawnie, it's me," her dad said.
Dawn slowly pulled herself up, crossed the expanse of floor covered by a pastel rag rug along with many dirty clothes and opened the door.
Her dad was sitting in the hall, a concerned look on his face.
"Can we talk?"
Dawn stood aside and let him pass. She sat on the edge of her bed and her dad rolled beside her.
"Is this the part where you tell me you'll always love me?"
"Yeah, I guess I was going to say that."
"And that it's not my fault this is happening."
"Do you want me to go so you can comfort yourself?"
"No."
Dawn tugged at the crumpled sheets under her hands. Her dad looked at her and smiled.
"So now that you shot down my speech, what do you want to talk about?"
"Maybe why mom is such a giant slut?"
"Hey, that's still your mom, you shouldn't talk about her disrespectfully."
"Why, like she was being respectful," Dawn said.
"There's a lot you don't know, I can't totally blame your mom for what happened," her dad said.
"So you cheated, too?"
"No, nothing like that, it's just more complicated than you think."
"It's just sex, why do adults think that it's so mysterious like you could never explain it to me and have my feeble mind comprehend?"
"It's not beyond your comprehension, Dawnie, I just don't want to go in depth about my love life with my daughter," he said.
"I'm not your daughter."
"Yeah, you are. You always will be no matter what choices your mom makes."
Dawn looked into his wide-spaced eyes. After she said what was on her mind all his shiny, happy feelings would evaporate.
"Then can I live with you?" she asked, folding her arms over her chest.
Her dad didn't hesitate.
"If that's what you want."
"Do you want it, though?"
"I like having a reason to wake up in the morning as much as the next guy."
Dawn hopped onto her father's lap, draping her legs over the metal arms of his chair. He made a little "oof" sound when she landed, then he hugged her.
"Can I switch schools, too?"
"Let's not get crazy," he said with a smile.
***
Buffy sat at the dining room table, huddled over a mug of prenatal tea. The mug had been a gift from Dawn for mother's day a few years back. Her daughter had made it in pottery class and it was surprisingly fine work for a twelve-year-old. Dawn had applied a pink glaze and then painted little, green stars around the edge. It was Buffy's favorite.
The tea had been a gift from her boss, Tara. Tara was the first person she'd told about Spike and the baby. After she'd come back from having dinner with Spike, Tara had found her sniffling over the sink in the ladies room at work. Tara's large eyes had been brimming with sympathy, and the truth had just spilled out.
"You know what you want here, Buffy, or you wouldn't have told him about the baby," Tara had said.
Those words had carried her to Spike's house. Those words had carried her to this moment.
Dawn and Riley had been upstairs talking for a very long time; Buffy was getting nervous. She stared at the brown leaves on the wallpaper until they started to writhe. She heard the sound of the lift lowering Riley's chair and Dawn's footsteps on the wooden stair. Dawn bounced into the dining room beside her dad. They tittered in front of Buffy like two chummy birds.
"We talked about it, and we think it would be best if you moved out," Riley said.
"I'm going to live here with dad," Dawn said.
Buffy held her mug tighter, the pads of her fingers turning white.
"Dawn, you're my daughter and you're going to live with me," Buffy said.
"Do you really want to go to court over this, Buffy? I won't contest the divorce if you just do what Dawn wants. You can maybe marry your boyfriend before your kid is in kindergarten, or you can put your daughter through hell for a couple years until she never wants to speak to you again, your choice," Riley said. His jaw ticked. Dawn stood with her arms folded, her chin stuck out defiantly.
Buffy looked from one to the other. She set her cup down and stood.
"Dawn, I know you're angry now, but you could change your mind," Buffy said.
"I won't," Dawn said.
Buffy moved to hug her daughter, but Dawn backed away.
Buffy dropped her arms.
"You can pick up your stuff tomorrow while Dawn's at school. I'll be at Sam's," Riley said.
Buffy took up her coat from the back of the chair and then took a step toward the door.
"I'll still pick you up from school tomorrow, Dawn."
"Fine," Dawn said.
"Riley, is that all right with you?" Buffy asked.
"Yeah," he said, sadly.
After Buffy left, Dawn went into the dining room and snatched the mug of cold tea. Riley watched her dump the contents of the mug into the sink and then smash it against the ceramic-tiled floor.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
This will be the last one for awhile, at least until the holidays are over. Hope you have a joyful New Year. Thank you for reading and for your comments.
Chapter End Notes:
Sara Michelle Gellar played Erica Kane's daughter on "All My Children."
Also, did everybody kind of fall for Riley a little bit after this chapter?
Also, did everybody kind of fall for Riley a little bit after this chapter?