Her heart began racing, and she wondered if it was the pregnancy or her nerves. A wave of dizziness swept over her, and she stopped, wavering like a chairlift on a windy day. Her vision blackened down to two small focal points. She blinked and caught hold of a brick ledge on the building beside her, fearing she might faint. Slowly, the focal points widened until the black haze faded away.
Her stomach rumbled, and she realized she hadn’t eaten lunch. Only some crackers for breakfast. Too late now.
She began walking again and saw ahead a green canopy with the words “Women’s Health Clinic” written in neat, white script. Her heart tumbled in her chest. Her legs quivered like cooked noodles. She neared the entrance, her thoughts spinning, her vision clouding.
They just scrape away the tissue, then it’s over.
Abortions don’t solve problems; they just create new ones.
They just scrape away the tissue, then it’s all over.
One even committed suicide.
It’s just a blob of tissue.
All the organs have formed; the heart is beating.
Linn opened the heavy wooden door and entered the lobby. Soft: tones of beige and clay surrounded her. Everything seemed surreal, as if someone else was looking out her eyes. She approached the window, where a kindly, middle-aged woman shuffled a stack of papers.
“May I help you?”
“My name is Lindsey Caldwell. I have an appointment.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Natalie opened the grill and checked the burgers. A blast of heat licked her arms, and she leaned back, letting the air escape. The edges of the burgers were crispy brown, so she began flipping.
Giggles erupted from the backyard, where Paula had pinned six-year-old Alex to the ground for a tickle-fest. “I warned you, Pal, and now you’ve had it!”
A smile touched Natalie’s lips as she watched her three-year-old son Taylor enter the fray. “Get him, Aunt Paula!” His little fingers danced across his brother’s chest.
“Stop!” Alex cried between laughs. “Stop, I gotta pee!”
Instantly Paula stopped, and Alex jumped up, dashed past Natalie, and slid through the sliding screen door.
Natalie and Paula chuckled at his abrupt departure.
“Do me!” Taylor said to Paula.
“Oh no you don’t,” Paula said. “I know what happens when I tickle you. Same thing that happens when I tickle Alex, only you don’t make it to the bathroom.” She tapped his nose.
Taylor put a hand to his mouth and giggled.
“Taylor,” Natalie said. “Why don’t you go swing for a while.” Paula had been at their house for almost an hour, and Natalie had hardly gotten the chance to say a word to her.
As Taylor scooted off to the swing set, Paula collapsed in a lawn chair on the deck. “Your boys are a trip.”
Natalie closed the grill lid and slid into the vinyl lawn chair beside her sister. “You’re so good with them. You have a way with children.”
Paula’s only reply was silence. An awkward one that made Natalie wonder if she’d misspoken. Paula and David still had no children, and Natalie often wondered why. Wondered, but didn’t ask. Paula had wanted to get her career on stable ground first. But she’d reached her short-term goal of becoming an evening news anchor and had never mentioned whether they were trying to get pregnant.
“David showing a house tonight?” Natalie asked.
“That’s the rotten part of being a realtor. Evenings and weekends, down the tube. I was thinking of having you and Hanna and Micah over for dinner one night soon. Maybe Mom can watch the boys, and we’ll have a grown-up night. Sound good?”
“I hate being a third wheel.”
“You won’t be. We’re family.”
A night of adult talk did sound tempting. “All right. Just let me know when, and I’ll be there.”
Again, it grew quiet. She wondered how Paula and David were doing but was afraid to ask.
In the silence, her own mind returned to the center. When she’d returned from an errand yesterday, a Post-it note had been stuck to her monitor. Linn called. Seemed upset. The details she’d gotten from her morning volunteer Valerie had been on her mind since yesterday. After two weeks of silence, Linn had finally called.
Oh, why had she run that errand? Linn had needed her, and she hadn’t been there for her. Had she gone through with the abortion? Please, Lord, let her call back. Valerie said she’d been crying and that she’d taken the bus to the clinic alone. Natalie’s heart ached for the girl. Linn had needed someone to be there for her, to listen to her, and Natalie had been the one she’d chosen. But Natalie had not been there. She’d prayed all day that Linn would call back.
Suddenly she realized she’d retreated into her own world. Her sister’s leg ticked off time. Her type-A personality made sitting still difficult. “How’s work going?”
Paula arched a finely groomed brow. “We have a new makeup artist, Dante—did I tell you about him?”
“Just that he’s Italian and has a glorious mane of black hair.” Natalie smiled.
“He sings when he’s making you up, and I swear, it’s like he’s serenading you.” Her copper-stained lips curved in a dreamy smile.
“You sound infatuated.”
“Don’t be silly.” Paula rolled her eyes, but a flush blossomed in her cheeks.
Natalie knew better than to comment on the flush. Paula hated the fact that she blushed. Natalie suspected it was her inability to control something that Paula hated so much. “I’m just teasing.”
The screen door slid open with a screech, and Alex burst through, forgetting to shut it.
“Alex …”
“Oops.” He turned and slid the door so hard it slapped against the sill, then he ran off toward the swing set.
“Come push us, Aunt Paula,” Taylor called from the swing.
Paula stood and followed Alex to the swing set.
“Just for a few minutes,” Natalie called. “The burgers are almost done.”
She walked to the grill and checked the meat again. Just a few more minutes. She closed the lid and leaned against the log exterior of the house, watching Paula push Taylor until he popped from his seat at the pinnacle of every swing.
“Higher!” he called.
Paula laughed. “If I push you any higher, you’ll go all the way around.”
“Sweet!,” Alex said.
Natalie loved watching Paula with her boys. Not only did she have a wonderful way with them, but she looked so perfect while she was at it. So polished. Even today, on a Saturday, she wore a classic white blouse tucked into a pair of perfectly creased khaki pants. She wore her auburn hair in the latest short style that took years off her thirty-five-year-old face. Her makeup—even without the help of Dante—was flaw-less. And Natalie hadn’t seen her without lipstick since junior high.
Natalie’s gaze slid down to her own outfit. Levi shorts with a T-shirt, left untucked to disguise her not-quite-flat-anymore abdomen. She’d thrown her shoulder-length hair into a sloppy ponytail this morning and had gotten by with only tinted moisturizer and mascara. Not exactly a glamour girl. Her days of coifed hair and coordinated ensembles were at least temporarily on hold. Maybe when the boys were older … she needed to spend a lot of time with them now. Especially since the divorce. Still, she wouldn’t trade her little guys for anything. And her job may not be as glamorous as Paula’s, but it was rewarding.
A fire flared up beneath the burgers, and she quickly took them off the grill, then turned it off. “Come and get it!” she called.
After they scarfed down the meal, the boys started a game of soccer with the neighbor kids while she and Paula went inside to wash dishes.
When they were almost finished, Natalie nudged her sister. “There’s some ice cream in the fridge.” She wiggled her brows. “How ’bout we sneak a bowlful while the boys are occupied.”
Paula shrugged as she dried her hands. “I’ve already blown it with the chips. What’s a sco
op of ice cream going to hurt?”
Paula opened the freezer door, and a puff of cold air smacked Natalie on her legs. “Mmm, Moose Tracks. You know how to spoil a girl.”
Natalie pulled two glass bowls from the cupboard and set them down beside Paula.
“Natalie …” Paula tsked.
“What?” Natalie turned to see her sister holding the opened container. Inside, a frosty spoon leaned against the cardboard wall. Oh. That. One night this week, she’d had a terrible hankering for ice cream, and before she knew it, she’d plowed through half the container.
“Want to talk about it?” Paula put the chilled spoon in the dishwasher and began scooping the treat into bowls. “Must’ve been pretty bad if you ate out of the container.”
Natalie wavered. Truthfully, the answer was yes. She did want to talk about it. She just wasn’t sure Paula was the right one to hear it.
“Is it Keith? Hanna said he’d let the boys down this weekend.”
It looked like the family grapevine was alive and well. Natalie mentally tracked the trail. Her mom had told her sister Hanna, and Hanna had told Paula. At least they meant well.
Natalie slid onto a barstool. “No, it’s not Keith.”
Paula slid a bowl her way, and Natalie slipped a bite of the creamy confection in her mouth.
“Work?”
Natalie savored the cool, sweet flavor and let it glide down her throat. She might as well tell Paula. She had to tell someone. “I had a client come in a couple weeks ago, and I just can’t get her off my mind.”
“Why not?”
Natalie paused. She would have to keep the conversation general because of the center’s privacy policy. “Well, she’s pregnant for starters.”
“Young?”
Natalie shrugged. “Not terribly so. Just alone. And scared.” She rested her spoon against the bowl. “She wanted to have an abortion. She called yesterday from the Women’s Clinic. She had an appointment but was having second thoughts.”
“Did she go through with it?”
Natalie wondered if she just imagined the coolness that seemed to emanate from Paula. “I don’t know. That’s what’s killing me. She wouldn’t talk to Val, and she didn’t call back today.”
Silence danced around them. Though Hanna and their parents were staunch pro-life supporters, Paula had always remained silent on the subject. Natalie and Hanna had once discussed Paula’s silence, and both of them thought she might feel differently than the rest of the family.
Paula’s spoon clinked against the side of the bowl. Outside, the boys’ squeals carried across the yard. Why didn’t her sister say something? Anything? The silence stretched awkwardly between them.
“Well, anyway, there’s nothing I can do about it unless she calls again,” Natalie said to break the silence. This time she let the subject die.
“Good night, girls,” Natalie called as the parenting class participants filed past the desk on the way out the door.
“Night,” they said.
McKenzie waddled past, her shirt swaying under her pregnant belly like a flag in the wind.
“When’s that baby due, McKenzie?” Natalie asked.
The girl shot a look over her shoulder. “Not nearly soon enough.”
Natalie hid a grin. How well she remembered the way the last weeks of pregnancy stretched out. She was so big with Taylor, she didn’t want to be seen outside the house.
When all the girls had left, the volunteer and trainer packed up their things. “See you next week, Natalie,” the volunteer called as she slid out the glass door. The room swelled with silence. Just a few more minutes to finish up these papers, and she could go pick up her boys. The night beyond the glass storefront was a black canvas, and in the glass she could see a reflection of herself sitting at her desk. Even in the distorted picture, she could see the dark circles under her eyes. It had been a long day with five new girls filing through the door. They all needed help, needed Christ, and sometimes it left her feeling so drained.
She looked at the Post-it note still stuck to her computer monitor. Linn had not called back today either. If she were still having second thoughts, wouldn’t she have called back? Maybe she’d found someone else to talk to, someone who’d tell her an abortion was no big deal. Or maybe she’d gone through with the abortion. Maybe she was even now paralyzed with guilt and grief.
The fax machine kicked on, and Natalie started. When the paper started feeding through, she shook her head. Why was she so jumpy tonight? Earlier, as she’d walked back from Wendy’s, she’d had the strangest feeling she was being watched. Which was silly, of course. This was Jackson Hole, not Los Angeles. Anyway, who’d want to stare at a middle-aged mom who hadn’t had a haircut in six months?
Nonetheless, feeling suddenly vulnerable, she walked around the desk and flipped the metal lever. With a clank, the lock settled into place. Technically, they were closed, and there was no sense leaving the door unlocked while she finished up. With one last glance at the silent phone, she began wading through the stack of papers.
She worked quickly, eager to see the boys, wanting to tuck their covers snugly around their bodies and listen to their sweet prayers. After scrawling her signature on the last form, she grabbed her purse from the filing cabinet and dug her keys from its depths. She flipped out the lights, careful to leave on the exterior light. They really could use a security system, but it wasn’t in the budget. Besides, they’d never had any problems before.
Natalie unlocked the door and slipped outside, fitting her key into the dead bolt and twisting. Warm air hugged her body, and the humidity seeped into her clothes and hair. Even at night, air conditioners hummed outside the nearby motel.
She set off for the back of the building, where her Suburban was parked. Habitually, her fingers found the little pepper spray canister attached to her key ring. She walked briskly, alert, trying to stay in the faint glow of the solitary streetlamp. The lot’s crumbled concrete crunched under her loafers. As she rounded the corner to the lot, she felt it again. That strange feeling she’d had earlier. Her feet quickened.
She should have left with the others. Her finger easily found the lip of the pepper spray. There were no lights in the lot, but in the moon-light, she could see her lonely Suburban in the middle.
Almost there. Her lungs could hardly keep pace with her heart. All around the lot, the shadows danced as the wind moved the trees and shrubs. Her legs moved awkwardly, as if they were filled with helium.
At last, she reached the car door. Her fingers fumbled with the keys. Finally, they closed around the door key. She slid it in the lock and turned, her glance skating this way and that. She pulled open the door, jumped inside, then shut it behind her quickly. She depressed the automatic door lock, and the locks dropped with a satisfying clunk.
She took just a moment to catch her breath. How silly of her. Scared of her own shadow. She shook her head, inhaling deeply. A sour smell filled her nose and lungs. Probably an old cup of orange juice in one of the backseat cup holders. She would have to look later. She slipped the key in the ignition and turned it over.
Something grabbed the top of her head and slammed it against the headrest, holding it there. Her scalp tightened painfully on top. She grabbed at the source. A hand. The rearview mirror yielded only a view of her neck. Her gaze darted toward her pepper spray. She grabbed for it with desperate fingers. Closer, closer. She groaned. It dangled just out of reach.
She could hear her own breaths in the suffocating silence. Could feel puffs of hot air hitting her neck. Could smell the sour breath and knew that whatever it was, it was locked inside with her.
CHAPTER FIVE
A voice, soft and grating, filled the car.
“You been telling lies, haven’t you?” His voice was low and calm. Eerily so. He yanked her hair.
Her scalp stung.
“That was a question.”
Should she say yes? No? He decided for her, shaking her head up and down. She could
feel strands of hair snapping.
“I thought so.” His voice was in her ear. So close.
“It’s not your business if girls get rid of their mistakes, is it?” He shook her head from side to side. Acid came up her throat.
“You’re going to start telling the truth now, aren’t you?” His other hand touched her head, and she flinched. He stroked the top of her head gently, as if he weren’t hurting her with his other hand.
“Aren’t you?”
She couldn’t remember the question, but it didn’t matter. He shook her head up and down.
“Good girl.” His lips touched her ear in a kiss.
She flinched.
“I’d hate to see such a pretty girl get hurt. Bad things happen when you tell lies. You don’t want to get hurt now, do you?”
He jerked her head back and forth. His breath reeked of cigarettes and cinnamon.
“Turn off the dome light.”
It was off already. He must mean so it wouldn’t come on when he opened the door. Opened the door … did that mean he was leaving? Please, God.
He loosened his grip on her hair enough that she could lean forward and flip the switch.
“Give me your hands.”
Helpless, she lifted them up in the air. Her heart felt like it might burst from her chest like an airbag. Her hands trembled.
He took one hand and placed it on the headrest, then placed the other there, too. His hand twisted on her hair until she thought her scalp would rip loose from her head. She sucked in her breath.
“I’m going to let go in a minute. You’re going to keep your hands here. You’re going to close your eyes. Then you’re going to sing a song. Let’s see, what shall we make it… ?”
The pain combined with his putrid breath made her stomach twist with nausea. She arched her back, trying to relieve the pressure on her scalp.
“You know Top Goes the Weasel,’ don’t you?”
Saving Grace Page 3
