“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” Natalie asked.
A faraway look entered her eye. “Nope. Just me.”
Natalie smiled. “I always wanted to be an only child. Especially when my sisters were aggravating me.”
“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
Natalie searched for a new topic. “What made you decide to be a psychology major?”
“I don’t know. I like to guess what people are thinking, why they do things and stuff. I want a real job, you know? A career. I want to dress up when I go to work and have people respect me.”
“Sure, that’s understandable.”
Linn’s gaze flittered toward the timer.
“One minute left,” Natalie said. “There’ll be a pink line in the reference window, and if there’s a pink line under it, the result is positive. Also, understand that sometimes if you’re pregnant but there’s not enough of the pregnancy hormone, the test can still read negative.”
“How accurate is it?”
“The instruction pamphlet says ninety-nine percent.”
Linn’s brows ticked up, then down again, and she began twisting a ring on her finger.
“That’s pretty. Can I see it?”
Linn held out her hand. A sapphire shimmered on the gold band. “It’s beautiful. Is that your birthstone?”
Linn’s eyes clouded. “No, I—”
The timer dinged, and Linn’s startled gaze met Natalie’s.
“Well, let’s go see, shall we?”
They walked over to the table. The phone rang in the other room, and Natalie heard Amanda answer it. When they rounded the examination bed, Natalie could see the test cassette, could see clearly the test results. She stepped aside, allowing Linn to come near.
The girl’s eyes fixed on the test. Natalie could see the moment she understood. Her eyes widened for just a moment before they closed. When she opened them, her gaze swung to Natalie’s, her eyes lit with desperation.
“I’m pregnant.”
CHAPTER TWO
Paula Landin-Cohen rinsed her hands under the automatic faucet, watching the sudsy water swirl down the drain. She almost wished she could go down with it. At least then it would all be over, and she wouldn’t have to deal with this topsy-turvy cycle of hope and despair.
After drying her hands, she looked in the mirror one last time, making sure her makeup was still in place. Would David notice her puffy eyelids? She hadn’t told him, had not gotten his hopes up, too. She never did. Maybe that’s why she felt like she was alone on this mission. A mission she was failing. Her body felt like an empty temple, ornate on the outside, hollow on the inside. She had been so sure this time. How many times would she have to go through this?
Paula stepped back and checked her full-length image before exiting the restroom. The food must be on the table by now. As she made her way through the maze of tables, she was vaguely aware of heads turning. Sometimes people even approached her, as if seeing her on the news each night made them close friends. She avoided looking directly at anyone. She was not in the mood for PR.
When she reached the table, she saw the food had arrived. At her approach, David half-stood with the predictability of a geyser, then sank back onto his chair in unison with her.
“What took so long?”
Paula kept her gaze lowered, conscious of her tear-stricken eyes. Why did they have to get a window seat? “Nothing, just—someone stopped me in the restroom, wanted to chat, you know how it is.” She scooted in her chair. “Mmm, this fruit looks delicious.” She spread the white linen napkin in her lap, then speared a chunk of cantaloupe. She slid it into her mouth and chewed without tasting, then swallowed it around the lump in her throat. “Mmm, it is good.”
“I thought you were meeting Natalie for lunch.”
“She got hung up at the center. I’m glad you could meet me lastminute.” She injected her last words with an enthusiasm she didn’t feel, and fearing David might become suspicious of her downcast eyes, she dared a glance at him.
He was studying her, his forehead furrowed above his trendy glasses. Tiny creases lined his mouth and eyes. Why was it lines and wrinkles enhanced a man’s appearance, yet worsened a woman’s? She tried for a smile. “How did the closing go?”
He waited until he’d chewed the bite of glazed salmon before replying. “Fine. I have a showing at one, so I’ll have to rush out when I’m done.”
She nodded, and they continued to eat. When she’d called and asked him to meet her, her heart had been buoyed by hope. Now she wished she were alone. Might as well be, she thought as they finished their meals. Although the restaurant was filled with muted chatter, at their table, there was only silence. A strained, unsettling silence that felt like a rubber band stretching taut. She searched for something to say. Something that would release the band before it snapped.
“You started, didn’t you?” he said.
She looked at him again. Shadows lurked in the depths of his eyes. The breath she didn’t know she’d held rushed out. “I’m so tired of this.”
He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “How long has it been, about a year?”
One year, two months, and seven days. “A little more.” She looked away.
He laid the napkin on his empty plate. “Maybe you should see a doctor.”
Her gaze snapped toward his. “It could be you, you know.”
He looked away, his jaw hardening. Heaven forbid their problem should actually be his fault.
She didn’t understand why they were having a hard time conceiving now when it had happened without effort before. Maybe David was thinking about that; maybe that’s why he’d grown so quiet.
The server approached. “Everything all right?”
“Fine, thanks,” David said.
The server set the bill tray on the table and removed the dirty plates. “You have a good day.”
David withdrew his wallet, pulling out crisp bills and sliding them under the tray clip. “I’ve got to run.” He rose from his seat and stepped toward her, bending to place an obligatory kiss on her cheek. “See you.”
“Bye,” she said, but he’d already started walking away. She watched him all the way to the door and wished the emptiness she felt inside would reach out and swallow her like a big black hole.
“I can’t believe this.” The dull throbbing in Linn’s head turned to heavy jabs as she stared at the faint pink lines in the stick window. She couldn’t be pregnant. This couldn’t be happening to her. Her heart boomed against her rib cage, and her breaths came in shallow pants. A wave of dizziness passed over her, and she laid a hand on the table to steady herself. “The line’s awful faint. Maybe I’m not really pregnant.” She searched Miss C’s eyes.
The woman’s lips tipped up at the corners as she tilted her head to the side. “Even the faintest of lines indicate the presence of the pregnancy hormone. False positives are rare, but there’s always a slight chance, so you should see a doctor to verify that you truly are pregnant.”
Linn closed her eyes and covered them with a shaky hand. She wondered if she imagined the nausea that swelled in her stomach. She had felt sick several times over the past couple of weeks, but she’d thought it was a virus.
She felt a hand on her arm.
“Come back to my office where we can sit and talk.”
Linn followed Miss C through the door and down a short hall. She had to get rid of it. She was going away to college. She was going to make something of herself.
Miss C ushered her through the door, and Linn sank onto the nearest chair by a desk. Miss C pulled another one close. “It’s going to be all right, Linn.”
This wasn’t supposed to happen. Especially not now that he was gone. “No, it’s not.” Where would she get money for an abortion? They weren’t cheap, she knew. Medical procedures never were. She couldn’t even afford a pregnancy test; that’s why she’d come here.
“We can help. We have resources. That’s what we’re h
ere for.”
Hope lit a fire in her belly. “You mean you can help me get an abortion?” Was it possible that the government helped low-income women with the cost of abortions? It was a medical procedure after all …
Miss C leaned forward and took something off her desk. “According to your calculations, you’re seven or eight weeks along.”
A stack of pamphlets on the desk drew Linn’s gaze. She reached out and took one, opening it with trembling fingers. Her gaze fell to the page in her lap. The caption under the picture read “baby at eight weeks gestation.” She looked closely at the picture she’d only glanced at earlier. Her breath sucked in. It was a photo of a tiny baby inside a bubble. The profile showed an enlarged head, but the limbs were developed with tiny fingers and toes. She could see an eye, an ear, and even the ridges where the ribcage was.
A painful knot tightened in her stomach. She tore her gaze away.
No. It didn’t look like that. It was an embryo. A primitive collection of cells. The group that had come to her school had said so. Why would they lie about it?
She shut the pamphlet in her lap.
“Your baby’s just as beautiful and precious as that one. You’re holding the gift of life inside you … a marvelous, miraculous work of love.”
Work of love. Yeah, right. If it was love, why’d he dump me? “You don’t understand. I can’t keep it.” Her dad would flip if he found out about this. “I just have to get rid of it, then this’ll all be over.”
“Oh, Linn, it’s not that way at all. I counsel girls all the time who’ve had an abortion. They deal with horrible guilt and remorse. One even committed suicide because the effects are just so staggering—”
“I don’t want to hear about that.” Linn flung the offensive pamphlet on the floor.
Miss C laid a hand on her arm. “It’s going to be OK. What is it about having a baby that’s upsetting you so? Is it your dad?”
“He’d kick me out of the house if he found out! I have no job, I’m supposed to be starting college soon, and the man who did this to me is long gone. Take your pick.” Her head felt heavy and woozy.
“Let’s take this one step at a time. Your dad would undoubtedly be upset, but many girls who come in here find that their parents are much more supportive than they thought. He’d adjust to the idea given time, just as you would.”
Linn shook her head. This lady doesn’t get it.
“If you choose not to keep the baby, there are many loving couples just waiting for the chance to adopt a baby. You could even have a say in who the parents are.”
“No. I’m not having it. I can’t.” This was her choice, not Miss C’s, and the thing inside of her wasn’t even alive. The photo from the booklet flashed in her mind. She could still see the tiny human floating in the bubble. She had to get out of here. She stood. She brushed past the woman and reached for the handle.
“Wait, Linn, please.”
Only the pleading in her tone stopped Linn. She turned and looked back.
Miss C grabbed a gray pamphlet off her desk and held it out. “Please, just promise you’ll read this. I want the best for you, Linn. Truly, I do.”
Linn just wanted out. Her stomach heaved, and she reached for the brochure. Without speaking, she turned and left. Her shaky legs carried her down the hall and through the lobby.
Everything she passed was a blur, her mind churning with a dozen different emotions. She felt a pebble bouncing in the flopping sole of her shoe, but she didn’t stop to remove it. She felt the glossy pages of the brochure and held it up. “The Life Inside You.”
A dark, ugly feeling swarmed over her. She didn’t want to think about life. She only wanted to think of her plans to go to school, of her future career. A black trash barrel beside the sidewalk caught her attention. Without letting herself think any more about it, she lifted her hand and dropped the booklet in the gaping hole.
Natalie released a weary sigh as she heard the pregnancy center door swing shut. Her heart thundered in her chest like a stampede of cattle, and her legs ached to go after Linn. But what else could she do? Linn had made up her mind, and only God could change it.
She could see even now the flicker of fear in the girl’s eyes. If anyone needed the Lord, Linn did. Help me to show her Your love, Father. Give her guidance. Remind her that the little one she carries is a tiny human being. She needs You, God.
Natalie wondered if Linn had anyone in her life she could trust. She’d seemed so alone and frantic at the news of her pregnancy. She said she was determined to have an abortion, but the shock on her face when she saw the photo was unmistakable. She believed the lies she was taught in school, just like thousands of others. But now she knew the truth about the little life within her, and she would be able to make an informed decision.
It had to be difficult to have an unplanned pregnancy and be so young. Natalie once had a rape victim who’d gotten pregnant, and that was even more heartbreaking. She’d never been in such a tough spot with such a difficult decision to make.
There were so many things that could happen in life to test a person’s faith. If her faith were on the line, would she make the right choice? She’d always feared she wouldn’t be up to the challenge. A part of her felt so alone now that it was just her and the boys. She had enough to handle without worrying about things that might never come to pass.
Natalie picked up the pamphlet that had wafted to the floor and placed it on her desk. She wished she could call Linn and talk to her more, but the center’s privacy policy prevented that. Her legs wobbled beneath her, and she lowered herself into the chair. There was no more she could do for Linn unless the girl contacted her. Please, God, let her see the truth before it’s too late.
The phone rang, and she picked up her office extension.
“Hi, honey,” her mom’s voice greeted her.
Natalie leaned back in the chair and released a cleansing breath. “Hi, Mom. Did Keith call the boys?”
She heard Alex whining in the background and listened while her mother settled him down. A few seconds later her mother whispered, “I hope that man knows how much he’s hurt these boys. Alex has hardly said a word, and Taylor has been crying ever since he called.”
Natalie laid her head back against the chair. It was amazing how one action by her ex-husband could hurt her and her boys in one fell swoop.
“Tell them we’ll go rafting Friday, OK?” It would stretch her budget for the week, but she hated to see them disappointed again.
“Nat …” Amanda leaned through the door and mouthed that she was leaving. Natalie nodded and waved.
“Listen, Mom, I have to go. Just tell them we’re going, OK?”
When she got off the phone, she dug an apple from her drawer and went to the front desk for her remaining hours at work. She processed Linn’s forms and started on a mountain of paperwork. Even that could not distract her from the haunting image of Linn’s hollow brown eyes.
CHAPTER THREE
Linn stepped off the bus and moved away from the tourist traffic. Once out of the way, she paused and took a breath. The diesel fumes caught in her throat and hung there. Her stomach churned, and she covered her nose with her hand. Lately, her stomach rebelled at smells. In the two weeks since the pregnancy test, it felt as if someone else controlled her body.
When her dad had cooked garlic chicken the night before, she thought she’d toss her cookies for sure. She’d only avoided it by going outside until dinner was over. She hated to puke. It reminded her of the time she’d stayed home from school sick in the third grade. Her dad had been home with her, and when she’d vomited all over her sheets, he’d made her clean it up. She could almost smell the sour stench now.
And if her stomach wasn’t churning, her heart was racing, making her dizzy. Her emotions were a wreck, too. Two nights ago she’d cried when an old lady won a trip to Bermuda on Wheel of Fortune.
Linn uncovered her nose and started walking. Cars sped by, mostly tourists, probably o
ff to see Old Faithful or go whitewater rafting. If only her plans for the afternoon were so insignificant.
Her thoughts swarmed like a dozen angry bees. She tried to push them away, but they kept returning. In desperation, she’d called her high-school guidance counselor at home. At first Miss Turley had seemed aggravated to be bothered, but when Linn explained her problem, she’d asked to meet her at the Shady Nook Café. Miss Turley’s words replayed in her mind like a recording. Of course, it’s your choice, Linn, but why would you want to throw away the scholarship you’ve earned? Getting an abortion is really no big deal. They just scrape away the tissue, and it’s over. Really harmless. Why would you want to ruin the rest of your life?
Linn had left the café with her mind set. The counselor had been so convincing, Linn wondered if she’d had an abortion herself. Either way, she had to be right. She was a woman and a counselor. And when she’d seen her father tuck an envelope of cash into the coffee cupboard, Linn had thought it was a sign. She should just do it. By the time her dad missed the money, it would be over. She would pay it back eventually.
But now, all the counselor’s points seemed as shaky as a rickety table. She couldn’t forget that picture Miss C had shown her. It kept burrowing into her mind with the persistence of a termite. Everyone said it was only tissue this early on. Not a baby, just a lump of cells.
Could that picture be true?
No. Everyone else couldn’t be wrong. They taught all about it at school. Smart people with degrees and everything. What did she know about this Miss C? Never mind the way the woman had looked into her heart. Never mind that it had been a long time since anyone had touched her so gently and listened to her so closely.
When she reached the end of the block, she made a right. One more block. A few yards away, a pregnant woman in a denim jumper approached on the other side of the sidewalk. The woman sipped on a water bottle as she passed. If I don’t do something, I’ll look like that in a few months. The thought rattled her and warmed her at the same time.
Saving Grace Page 2
