Dawn of Eve - MJ Howson (read full novel .txt) 📗

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” the voice assistant asked.

“Cancel!” Dawn shook her head with frustration. “I really need to find out how to change that.”

Jacob tried to force a smile on his face, but inside he felt disappointment raging throughout his body. Dawn’s miscarriage happened six months ago. She’d been to what he guessed to be a dozen therapy sessions. He couldn’t understand this obsession with the doll and building a family.

“When’s your next session?” Jacob asked.

“End of the week. Did . . . did you want to join me?”

“I doubt I can clear my schedule.”

“Oh. Well, it doesn’t matter. I’m thinking of canceling.”

“Why?”

“I just feel I get more from my time with Eve than I do from being with him.”

“Have you told him this?”

“Dr. Cole? No.”

“Maybe you should.” Jacob reached over and gave Dawn’s hand a gentle squeeze. Her touch felt cold and distant. He found himself bored by all this talk of therapy and family. Jacob glanced over at the wall of windows overlooking the Hudson River. He said, “The seasons go by too quickly. I can’t believe it’s already November.”

“I know. It seems like Labor Day was only yesterday. Thanksgiving’s only a few weeks away.” Dawn looked toward the blackness of the dining room and frowned. She turned to Jacob and asked, “Maybe we could spend it together?”

“Um, sure. I guess. I honestly haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Maybe I can try and cook a turkey?”

“Oh, now that would be a sight.”

Jacob put his arm around Dawn and pulled her closer.

“We’ll keep it simple,” Dawn said. “Just the three of us.”

“Three?”

Dawn nodded toward the dining room and said, “You, me, and Eve, of course.”

Jacob glanced over at the dining room table. The chandelier above the table was off, but in the darkness, he could now see Eve. The doll’s sapphire blue eyes reflected the glass crystals from the fireplace.

“Of course,” Jacob said, the disappointment in his voice on full display.

“Oh, stop. It will be fun.” Dawn kissed Jacob on his cheek. “Excuse me.”

Jacob watched Dawn head to the nearby powder room. Once she went inside, he stood up and walked over to the dining room. There were two place settings for dinner. Eve sat on the tabletop facing the plates and glasses. Her arms were positioned straight ahead as if she were waiting for someone to lift her. Jacob leaned forward and said, “You’re becoming a problem. What the hell am I going to do with you?”

Twenty Seven

Suzie

Dawn anxiously chewed on the wooden tip of her paintbrush. Her latest creation was her most colorful take on what she now considered a sunrise between two mountains. The hills were shades of dark and light green, the brush strokes small, layered, and tight. Dawn loved to experiment with round and flat brushes in various sizes to create depth to her paintings. The rising sun blazed a deep red, spilling into a shimmering blue sky above. Past iterations covered the studio walls, many in monotone shades or combining two colors at most.

“It’s just not speaking to me,” Dawn said, her voice echoing off the walls. Unlike most nights, Dawn had opted not to listen to music this evening. She looked over at Eve, sitting on the chair beside the doorway. “You know?”

Eve sat in silence, her sapphire blue eyes listlessly staring at the wall of windows. Outside, lights from the buildings across the Hudson River peppered the blackness of the night and reflected off the water.

“I think we’re done for the night,” Dawn said.

Dawn grabbed her phone to see if Jacob had texted her. The screen’s wallpaper showed a picture of Eve sleeping in her crib. There were no notifications. The time showed as 9:45 p.m. Dawn unlocked the phone and sent Jacob a text.

Thanksgiving is this Thursday. Are you joining us?

Dawn set the phone down and brought her brushes and palette knife to the utility sink. Jacob’s distance all month had been troubling. He still hadn’t fully committed to spending the holiday with her and Eve. Dawn finished cleaning up and returned to her phone to find a response from Jacob.

Sure.

Someone’s tone never came across in a text, but Dawn felt instantly disappointed in his simple answer. She started to reply to ask him about the meal but stopped and deleted what she wrote.

“What’s with him?” Dawn asked Eve. “All I get lately are one-word answers or excuses. The last time he was here, it was obvious he didn’t like you sitting at the table with us for dinner. Did you notice?”

Eve sat quietly in the chair, her gaze fixated on the view out beyond the windows. Dawn frowned and walked over to Eve.

“I wonder if he’s jealous of you,” Dawn said as she began to fuss with Eve’s red locks. “Should I ask him? Or ask the doctor?” Dawn picked up Eve and waited. “Nothing tonight, huh?”

Dawn carried Eve to the kitchen and got a glass of water to take to bed. She ascended the spiral staircase to the nursery on the second floor, stopping at the doorway.

“I think you should sleep here tonight, Eve,” Dawn said, cradling the doll and glass of water in her arm. She reached for the crystal doorknob. “It’s good practice.”

“Take me upstairs,” Eve said.

“But you should be sleeping in a crib. Like a real baby.”

“Read to me.”

“Read to you?” Dawn sighed as she glanced around the hallway. “I guess we could flip through the arts section of the paper. I heard there’s another new gallery opening. Maybe–”

“Read my diary.”

“Your diary?” Dawn frowned as she pulled her hand away from the doorknob. “Why?” She stroked Eve’s hair and adjusted the bow. “The stories are so boring. I’m sorry, Eve, but they are. Janet said I’d learn about you by reading it, but I’m not.”

“Read my diary.”

Dawn stared at the nursery door and then looked back into Eve’s eyes. She sighed and said, “Okay. It just better not be another birthday.”

Dawn carried Eve to the owner’s suite on