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2009 July | The Women of Chestnut Street- a blog novel for women, moms

Chapter Five

July 21, 2009 | Filed Under Dawn | Leave a Comment

Long after her friends had all said their hurried goodbyes, Dawn lingered. She sank into the wooden chair and sipped a smooth, hot, low-fat vanilla latte while inhaling the city she loved.

This was the time of day when busy city people slowed down. Unlike the pulse of the morning where every movement seems hurried and clumsy, late afternoon in San Francisco is like walking in molasses. A calm washes over residents as they zen-fully meditated on dinner plan possibilities, forgive themselves for the day’s shortcomings, and welcome the fierce redness on the horizon as the sun seems to extinguish itself in the bay waters.

It was 4:45 PM.

In fifteen minutes Charlie would begin Taekwando instruction. She loved cheering him on from the sidelines but was glued to her seat, intoxicated by the quietness of it all. A pang of maternal guilt shot through her chest as she pondered spending the next half hour floating in solitary bliss. Like thunder to lightning, the feeling was followed by a bolt of indignant resentment.

“Can a mother take for herself without feeling like a thief?” she wondered silently.

“No,” came the answer from somewhere within the depths of soul, “but do it anyway.”

Dawn giggled as she imagined herself as her own Robin Hood, stealing from the rich to give to the poor. In her case, no gold was exchanged, just rivers of warm self-indulgent moments where she could focus on the eternal woman lurking somewhere behind the title of wife and mother. Unlike Robin Hood, though, she’d definitely wear something form-fitting and hemmed.

The familiar flutter of inspiration landed on Dawn’s head. She hurried to catch it, almost knocking over her mug as she scrambled for her drawing pad. She flipped open the pink notebook with Capisce in black lettering across the front and quickly sketched a medieval-style brown leather pouch: The Robin Hood. She tapped the tip of the pen against her teeth, grinning.

Maybe women wouldn’t store private moments in her new design but it would be great for a lip gloss or two.

The muffled ring of a cell phone jarred her back from dreamland. Dawn eyed the caller ID. Meeghan.  She’d call her back later.

Motivated by sheer willpower and caffeine, Dawn gathered her belongings, took a last long sip of her latte and headed out the door. If she hurried she’d catch the tail end of Taekwando.

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