Anna carried a tray with tea, custard, and a couple of cookies into Lauren's room. "See if there's anything here that can tempt your appetite," she told her as she set it on Lauren's lap. "And I'm making chicken soup for dinner."
Lauren smiled. "Looks good, Mom. Thanks."
Anna sat down, making small talk as Lauren picked at the food. She told her a little bit about their honeymoon trip up the Oregon Coast. "We stayed at different beachside hotels all along the highway, clear up to Astoria."
"That sounds fun." Lauren took a sip of tea. "But I plan to go somewhere more exotic my honeymoon. I think maybe Honolulu or Jamaica."
Anna chuckled. "Already planning your honeymoon?"
"Doesn't hurt to think ahead."
"How are your classes going, honey? Do you like school?"
Lauren shrugged. "You know me, Mom. I've never been the scholarly type. But I like the girls in my sorority. And it's fun seeing Donald on campus."
"Are you feeling a little better now?" Anna got up now, placing her hand on Lauren's forehead, like she used to do when Lauren was a child. To her relief, it felt normal.
"I guess so. But I'm surprised because I really felt sick this morning. I barely made it to the bathroom on time. And I couldn't eat a thing for breakfast."
"Maybe you just need some rest." Anna picked up the empty tray. "A weekend on the river will put the roses back in your cheeks. Now just close your eyes and relax, honey. Enjoy this leisurely rest." She quietly left the room, closing the door.
By dinnertime Lauren said she felt like getting up, and Anna didn't discourage her. The four of them enjoyed dinner together and even played cards until ten. Feeling as if Lauren was making a swift recovery, Anna went to bed feeling happy. But at five in the morning, she heard groans coming from the bathroom and hurried out in time to see Lauren hunched over the toilet.
Anna stayed with her, comforting her until she stopped retching. Then after giving her some water and washing Lauren's pasty forehead with a cool washcloth, she walked her daughter back to her bed and tucked her in as if she were a small child. "I'll put the wastebasket right here," she told her, "in case you feel ill again."
"Thanks," Lauren muttered with closed eyes.
Later that morning, Anna went to check on Lauren again. She seemed to be sleeping comfortably, but Anna checked her forehead, which felt normal. And Lauren's cheeks weren't flushed or splotchy or spotty. Mostly she just looked very pretty, sleeping sweetly in her lacy pink nightgown. Fair-haired and blue-eyed, Lauren didn't have any traces of the Native American blood she carried. Lauren resembled her father's side of the family.
Anna remembered how relieved Eunice had been at this. Prior to Lauren's birth, Eunice had fretted vocally, although not when Adam was around, over the possibility that her first grandchild would come out looking like, "heaven forbid, a real Indian." As if Eunice expected the baby would spring forth wearing a headdress and holding a tomahawk the way they were so often portrayed in motion pictures.
As Anna sat down in the chair in Lauren's room, she wondered how much Eunice's relationship with Lauren would've been altered if Lauren had looked more like her mother's side of the family. Of course, Anna knew that would've changed everything. Eunice never would've pampered and spoiled an "Indian squaw" granddaughter. Even so, Anna still questioned whether Lauren's fair looks had been a blessing or something else.
"Mom?" Lauren sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes. "What are you doing in here?"
Anna smiled. "Just thinking, sweetheart."
"Oh." Lauren yawned, stretching lazily.
"How are you feeling now?"
She shrugged. "Okay, I guess."
"You look perfectly fine," Anna told her. "You don't seem to have a fever or anything to suggest a serious illness."
Lauren nodded. "I know. It's weird. The illness just comes and goes. I get so sick in the mornings that I wish I were dead. Then I throw up and feel okay for the rest of the day."
Suddenly something hit Anna—something that had happened to her when she was about Lauren's age. She recalled it as vividly as if it were last week. Anna remembered how she'd felt when she'd first been pregnant with Lauren. She let out a little gasp and closed her eyes.
"What is it?" Lauren asked with concern. "You look like you just saw a ghost, Mom. What's wrong with you?"
Anna opened her eyes, pressing her lips together, and tried to appear normal. Surely she was wrong about this. Of course she was wrong.
"What is it?" Lauren demanded. "Why are you so upset?"
"Oh, I know it's perfectly ridiculous." She tried to hide her nervousness, but went ahead and explained how there was a time when she got sick in the morning too. "Then I'd feel perfectly fine throughout day."
"Really?"
"Yes, and it went away after about a month or two."
"That long?" Lauren frowned. "What caused it?"
"You did, Lauren."
"Huh?" She looked truly oblivious.
"I was pregnant. With you."
Now Lauren's eyes got big and her lower lip quivered.
"Oh, Lauren," Anna said quickly. "You don't mean . . . you and Donald . . . well, you don't think . . . is that a real possibility?"
With both hands over her mouth and tears filling her eyes, Lauren slowly moved her head up and down in a frightened nod. Now Anna felt sick—truly sick. But instead of saying all the things that were rushing through her mind, Anna gathered her daughter into her arms and together they cried.
"It will be all right," Anna said as she stroked Lauren's hair. "It will be all right."
3
Lauren stayed in her room for the rest of the day. Crying off and on, refusing to speak to anyone, and barely touching the trays Anna brought in for her, Lauren seemed inconsolable. By that evening, Anna wasn't sure what to do. But she felt certain she must be handling this all wrong. Still, what was a mother supposed to do in situations like this? Who could she ask for advice? Dorothy would probably be shocked to hear the truth of Lauren's "illness." After all, Dorothy's daughters were too young to get into this kind of trouble. Consequently, Anna was too embarrassed to mention it.
It wasn't until Dorothy had gone to bed that Anna explained to Clark what was actually wrong with her daughter. "I don't know why I feel so humiliated by this," she finally confessed as she wiped tears. "It makes no sense, but I feel as if I've made a mistake. I feel ashamed."
Clark took her into his arms. "It's because you're her mother, Anna. You are linked to Lauren by invisible ties. I'm sure it's perfectly natural that you take her problems onto yourself. That's what parents do. Remember how concerned I felt when Marshall started acting like James Dean? How worried I was that I'd done something wrong?"
"I know . . . but it's more than just teen rebellion now. Oh, I feel so many emotions I can't even sort them out," she continued. "I'm angry at Lauren for getting herself into this place. At the same time, I blame myself. What if I'd never left her behind this past summer? Maybe I could've prevented this."
He made a half-smile. "These things happen, Anna. Usually there's nothing a parent can do to stop it. Kids will be kids."
"But I saw signs that she was running around too much. Eunice just let Lauren do as she pleased. She never even asked where Lauren was going, or with whom, or when she was coming home. But I can't blame Eunice for this. Lauren is my daughter. I should've been there for her."
"I don't mean to minimize this, Anna, but I honestly think there's nothing you could've done. This thing happens in all kinds of families—no matter how vigilant the parents think they are."
"Remember when we were there last summer? I should've said something right then. I knew that Donald was a womanizer."
"A womanizer?" Clark frowned. "That seems a strong accusation for the young man."
"I know. It does sound harsh." She sighed. "But it was an impression I'd had even before he and Lauren began dating. Donald was always going with a new girl, breaking hearts left and right, and leaving the
m strewn along—" Her hand flew to her mouth.
"What is it?"
"What if Donald refuses to do the right thing?"
"The right thing?"
"You know, to marry Lauren."
Clark's brow creased. "What if marrying her is the wrong thing?"
Anna felt confused. "I suppose I don't even know what the right thing is anymore. Really, how am I supposed to have all these answers?"
"Right now, it's out of your hands, darling. The best thing you can do is just exactly what you've been doing."
She looked into Clark's eyes, feeling herself being pulled in as he rubbed her shoulders. "And what's that?"
"Keep loving her, Anna. Keep being her mother. Give her time . . . it'll work out." He ran his hand over her long hair, kissing her on top of her head.
Anna gave in now, relaxing into his arms. As much as she wanted to resist and continue blaming herself, she knew Clark was right. Being anxious and upset was not going to make anything better. It would not change a single thing. "You're right," she conceded. "But I will take her for an appointment with Dr. Robertson tomorrow. He made time in his schedule to see her in the afternoon."
"What, no house calls now?" he teased.
Anna glumly shook her head. "Under the circumstances, I think not."
The doctor's appointment seemed to confirm what Anna already knew. However, the doctor offered to send a specimen out for a test—just to be sure. "Thank you," Anna told him as Lauren was getting dressed. "And I'm sure you will respect Lauren's privacy regarding, uh, this," she added a bit anxiously.
"Of course." He chuckled. "In a couple of months, Lauren will have to figure out other ways to keep folks from guessing her secret."
Anna sadly shook her head.
"I figure she's about three months along, Anna. If Lauren's young man is in a marrying frame of mind, I wouldn't waste any time with it."
"Yes, we'll discuss it." Anna waited as he wrote something down. Then Lauren came into his office and the doctor began to tell her some things.
"It's time to take it easy, young lady," he said in an almost fatherly way. "No strenuous exercise, no heavy lifting, and get plenty of rest." He lit a cigarette and let out a long puff. "And you need to eat sensibly. Not too much, mind you. We don't want you getting fat. But, remember, you are eating for your baby too."
Lauren looked on the verge of tears again. "So, it's really true? I really am pregnant?"
He flicked ashes into the large glass tray and nodded. "Yes, I'm 90 percent sure. But I'll send out for a test just to be 100 percent positive."
Now Lauren burst into full-blown tears.
"I can prescribe a sedative," he offered. "It will do the baby no good to have hysterics." Already he was writing something down.
"I think we'll be all right," Anna said nervously. She put an arm around Lauren's shaking shoulders. "Just give her a moment."
"Then if you'll excuse me, I have other patients."
Anna nodded, thanking him again. She handed Lauren her handkerchief and waited for the tears to subside. Finally Lauren set up straight, looking at Anna with a blotchy face and puffy eyes. "What am I going to do?"
Anna forced a smile. "For starters, you're going to do what the doctor said. You'll take it easy, eat sensibly, get plenty of rest and—"
"No, Mom. I mean what about my life? What am I going to do about this?"
She pointed to her abdomen. "I don't want to have a baby!"
"Well, darling, it's a little late to be—"
"But I've heard stories of other girls, Mom, ones who are like me. They get rid of it."
Anna stared at her daughter. "You mean an abortion?"
"I guess that's what it's called." Lauren's eyes were desperate. "Can I do that? Does this doctor do that?"
"Lauren, that's illegal. Of course, Dr. Robertson doesn't do that. And why would you want to—"
"Because I'm young, Mom. I don't want to be stuck with a kid. I want to have fun and be with my friends."
Anna reached for her handbag. "Maybe we can discuss this further at home, Lauren."
"You're sure Dr. Robertson won't help me get rid of it?" Lauren stood and glanced around his office. "He seems like a nice old guy. Wouldn't he know how it's done?"
"Hush, Lauren. We don't want anyone to hear you talking like that." Anna felt angry now. How could her daughter be like this—so callous and unfeeling? "Come on, let's get home. I need to start dinner soon."
They were barely in the boat when Lauren began pestering Anna again, begging her to find a way to "get rid of the baby." Finally Anna could take no more. She turned off the boat engine and, allowing the boat to float with the incoming tide, slowly going up the river, she told Lauren that was enough. "I don't want to hear another word from you about getting an illegal procedure like that," she firmly said. "Not only is it illegal, but I'm sure it's very dangerous. I will not allow you to take that kind of risk."
"But I don't want a baby!" Lauren howled so loudly that Anna looked over to the riverbanks to see if anyone was around to hear.
"Then you can let a family adopt it, Lauren. That happens all the time. There are couples who can't have children who'd be happy to have—"
"You don't understand, Mom."
"What?" Anna stared at her. "What do I not understand?"
"That I do not want to be pregnant. It will ruin my life."
Anna felt desperate now. "What about Donald? This is his child too. Do you think he has a right to an opinion?"
Lauren's chin quivered. "He warned me, Mom."
"Warned you?"
"To not get pregnant?"
Anna sat up straight and shook her head. "If Donald didn't want you to get pregnant, you never should've—"
"I don't want to hear that, Mom." Lauren pointed at the water outside of the boat. "If you keep talking like that I will jump into the river and drown myself."
"You know how to swim." Anna kept her voice calm, but the idea of Lauren floundering around in that cold water was unnerving. She wouldn't even put it past her high-strung daughter to do something that foolish. "Lauren," she said gently. "We don't have to figure everything out right now. Let's just go home and talk about this rationally. I'm sure we can come up with some answers."
Now Lauren went to the back of the boat, sat down, and folding her arms tightly across her chest, turned her back to her mother. Anna turned the engine back on and nervously continued up the river. The clouds had rolled in and it felt like rain was in the air. The river and sky were drab and heavy looking, shades of gray blurring together. She revved up the engine, picking up some speed so that they could get home without getting wet. She glanced back a couple of times, just to be sure that Lauren was still on board. But she was there, hunched over, her arms wrapped around herself, looking small and helpless and confused.
Anna prayed silently as she guided the boat upriver. Begging God to come up with some good solution, she prayed for Lauren's state of mind and her heart as well as her body. She even prayed for Lauren's unborn baby. When Lauren had started to speak of getting "rid" of it, something inside of Anna had reacted almost violently. Whether it was Anna's own maternal instincts or simply a longing for a grandchild, Anna knew that, without a doubt, she would fight for the life of this vulnerable baby. If necessary, she would offer to raise the child herself. Surely Clark would understand. He would have to!
4
To Anna's relief, Dorothy went back home to her family the next morning. Anna knew that Dorothy suspected something more serious was wrong with Lauren, something beyond influenza. Perhaps she'd even guessed what it was by now. But until Lauren's moodiness stabilized a bit, Anna decided it was best not to discuss her daughter's "delicate" condition with anyone. She even avoided the subject with Clark, and he seemed to appreciate this. She hoped that in time, Lauren would realize that this wasn't something she could run away from . . . or sleep away. In time, Lauren would have to face up to the consequences of her choices.
"Do women in, uh, Lauren's condition, do they usually sleep all the time?" Clark asked uneasily as he and Anna sat outside enjoying the river. Today it sparkled like diamonds and the moist air had a musky, almost spicy, aroma reminiscent of autumns past. Anna had made a pitcher of iced tea and they were soaking in some of the afternoon sun. Unfortunately Lauren had no interest in fresh air and sunshine. She'd spent most of the day in bed.
"I don't think so," Anna admitted.
"Do you think it's healthy?"
She shrugged. "Probably not. Although the doctor did tell her to take it easy."
"Oh. . . ." Clark sighed.
"I wanted to give her time to settle into it," Anna told him. "Sort of adjust to what's going on with her . . . maybe even consider the fact that she's got a living human being inside of her." What Anna didn't say—what she couldn't bring herself to say—was she hoped that Lauren's maternal instincts would kick in and she would decide that she loved and wanted her child.
Clark nodded. "That sounds like a wise plan."
"And she's obviously not going back to school now. Not this semester anyway."
He cleared his throat. "Have you informed Eunice yet?"
Anna pressed her lips together.
"I know it will be hard to do, but it might be best just to get it over with, Anna."
"I asked Lauren to call her."
"And . . . ?"
"She pulled the covers over her head and started crying again."
"Poor Lauren."
Anna appreciated his compassion toward her daughter, especially since her own sympathies were waning just now. She wondered if Clark would be as kindhearted if he knew how badly Lauren wanted to be "rid" of her unborn child. However, this was a topic she wasn't ready to discuss—not with anyone.
Anna heard the chortling sound of a boat engine coming down the river. "That sounds like Babette." She stood and peered across the glistening water to see a motorboat in the distance.
River's Call Page 2
