“Grab the salad and bread, will you?” Without waiting for an answer, Paula slipped through the doorway.
Nat grabbed the salad bowl and breadbasket. The fresh aroma of yeast made her stomach growl. She took a deep breath and joined the others.
Natalie took the only empty seat, which was next to Kyle. Across from her, Paula took David’s hand and asked him to say grace.
Natalie folded her own hands in her lap. She wished she could go back home and spend the night playing Trouble or Uno with her boys.
When the prayer ended, they passed the dishes around. To Paula’s credit, the food was heavenly. It seemed like Natalie could barely manage grilled cheese and soup some nights. But, of course, her sister was not a single working mother. She had no children to rush through dinner in time to shuttle them to baseball or hockey. And she had a husband to help with things around the house.
Keith’s face surfaced in her mind, but she shoved it away. She’d had a husband, too, but after the way that one ended, she was in no hurry to put her heart on the line again. Maybe single parenting was hard, but marriage wasn’t everything it was cracked up to be either.
“Natalie.” Her sister’s insistent voice pulled her from her thoughts. “Kyle was just asking about your job.”
“I’m sorry.” She wiped her mouth with the stiff dinner napkin. “I’m the director at the Hope Center.”
His eyes lit with interest. “That’s wonderful. I have a lot of respect for the work that’s done there.”
Natalie acknowledged his sincerity. “Thank you.” She took a bite of the duck while Paula smoothly asked about his work as an attorney.
“I mostly work with couples seeking to adopt a child. I make sure everything is done legally.” He explained how the system worked. Natalie reluctantly found herself hanging on to his every word.
Kyle’s arm brushed hers as he reached for his glass of iced tea, and she pulled in her elbow.
“I imagine some people must be antagonistic toward the center.”
She realized Kyle was talking to her. “Most of the people I associate with support our efforts.”
“Of course. But do you ever get opposition from the Women’s Health Clinic or pro-abortion groups?”
“Would anyone like cracked pepper?” Paula passed the pepper mill to David.
Natalie noted her sister’s smooth change of topic. But she was feeling a tad defiant tonight. “In answer to your question, Kyle, we do occasionally get nasty letters or have a few people picketing the center. The other night I was actually attacked in my car in the parking lot. I can’t prove it was a pro-abortion group, but he did refer to the center. Of course, it could be the boyfriend of one of our clients, too. We can’t let other people dissuade us, though. We believe in what we’re doing.”
“Did they catch the assailant?”
“Unfortunately, no,” Nat said.
“I think it’s admirable what you do. It must be stressful. There must be times when clients refuse to listen.”
“Yes, and they sometimes come back to the center after the abortion. You’ve heard of Post Abortion Syndrome?”
“Yes, the pro-abortion groups deny its existence, don’t they?” Kyle asked.
“That’s because they don’t get the fallout after the abortion,” Nat said.
David adjusted his trendy glasses. “One of Natalie’s clients committed suicide recently after having an abortion.”
“How awful,” Kyle said.
Natalie’s stomach clenched like a tight fist. She’d tried to befriend Dana, had tried to inform her of the facts, but like so many young girls, she just wanted the pregnancy over. Thought her life would go back to normal if she just had an abortion.
“Kyle, what got you interested in private adoption? It’s a rather narrow field.” Paula steered the conversation in a different direction.
Kyle set his fork on his plate. “Well, my parents were unable to conceive, so I was adopted at birth. I guess I’ve been fascinated by the process all my life because of that. When it came time to choose a career, I chose the legal field, but eventually drifted into adoptions because of my passion for children.”
Was it Natalie’s imagination, or did Kyle’s voice sound a bit choked? She didn’t risk a look. And she didn’t want to feel sorry for Kyle. He’d apparently had a perfectly fine childhood; there was nothing for her to feel sorry for.
Somewhere along the meal, she’d lost her appetite. The pecan stuffing on the plate looked about as appealing as a lump of Cat Chow. She poked her fork into it and slid it into her mouth.
The conversation turned to real estate, and David entertained them with stories of impossible-to-sell homes and loan-closing disasters. Paula filled any conversation lapses with well-timed quips, and before Natalie knew it, the meal was over.
Paula and David excused themselves to the kitchen to get coffee, leaving Natalie and Kyle alone.
Natalie placed her napkin on the empty plate, noticing for the first time how quiet the house was. For the life of her, she couldn’t think of a thing to say. Why had Paula gotten all the conversation genes?
Beside her, Kyle shifted in his chair.
In the kitchen, the coffee bean grinder buzzed to life. Oh, man, it would take forever for that coffee to brew. She was just trying to decide if she could figure out a way to leave without appearing rude when Kyle spoke.
“Look, this has been a little awkward. When Paula invited me for dinner, she didn’t say anything about—well, you being here.”
OK, so he’d been innocent about Paula’s dinner arrangements. Natalie glanced at Kyle, but the glance turned into a stare. She hadn’t looked at him all through dinner and had forgotten—or hadn’t noticed before—how attractive he was. His deep-set gray-green eyes and strong jaw line would set him apart in a crowd of men.
“Your sister couldn’t know this, of course,” he said. “But I’m not at a place in my life where I’m ready for a relationship. I don’t want you to take this personally. You seem like a really nice person.”
He was rejecting her? She gritted her teeth. Why, she’d never offered him anything to begin with. Natalie’s gaze snapped back to her plate. Her blood suddenly seemed to be pumping very quickly through her body. Some of it, she was sure, was rushing to her face. “I assure you, I had no knowledge of … of this thing tonight either.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“I didn’t know you’d be here any more than you knew I’d be here, and a relationship is the last thing—the very last thing—on my mind.”
The kitchen door swung open. “Coffee will be ready in a jiff,” Paula said. “Why don’t we get cozy in the living room?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“That went well, don’t you think?” Paula asked her husband after shutting the door behind Kyle.
“You’re kidding, right?” David was already involved in a copy of the Jackson Hole News. The real estate section, no doubt.
Paula sank onto the couch and flipped up the footrest. “She wasn’t that upset. And Kyle’s very nice, isn’t he?”
“You could’ve cut the tension between them with a knife.”
“Romantic tension is a good thing.” Things had been a little tense over dinner, but whatever she’d interrupted in the dining room had followed them into the living room and hovered over them through coffee.
“That wasn’t romantic tension. That was just plain old I-don’t-like-you tension. I’m not sure whether Nat was aiming it at Kyle or you, but I’m pretty sure neither of you are on her list of favorite people right now.”
Paula disagreed but decided to let it go. She had another issue to cover with her husband tonight, and an argument wouldn’t help matters.
She kicked off her pumps. She knew without looking that David’s own shoes lay under his coat by the door.
“How was your day?” she asked.
He hesitated so long, she mentally flicked the newspaper that blocked him from view.
&n
bsp; “Fine.”
All that time for a “fine.” No matter. She had more important things to discuss. “I went to the doctor today. The gynecologist.”
That brought the paper down. “What for?”
She hesitated, taking a moment to pull a string from the cuff of her suit. It wouldn’t kill him to wait for her for a change. “She looked me over to see if she could find any reason why I’m not pregnant yet.”
His glasses had slid down his nose a bit. She couldn’t believe he hadn’t shoved them back up yet. “Everything looked fine, as far as she could tell.”
“What’s that mean?”
Paula shrugged. “More testing,” she said. Now for the hard part. “Apparently, we both need to be tested at this point.” She used her best TV voice. Smooth. Gentle. She could use all the help she could get.
“Why me? Don’t they need to rule you out first?” His eyes blinked rapidly.
Rule me out? “Even if there is some … abnormality … with me, they still run tests on the male partner because things like sperm count and motility factor into the equation.”
“Sperm count? Isn’t it too soon for all this? We haven’t been trying that long.”
“Over a year, David.”
“Still, that’s not long. I think we should give it some more time.”
Because you don’t want to put your feet in stirrups. Why were men such babies?
“And insurance is an issue, too,” David said. “They probably won’t cover this kind of thing.” More blinking.
She couldn’t believe he was thinking about money. Yes, she could. “I’ll check in the morning. Would you please just make the appointment? I did my part today.”
He sighed. She could see his hand itching to pick up the paper again. A barrier between them. A wall to shield him from anything unpleasant.
“Sperm count … how in the world do they … oh. Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” He tossed his head back against the recliner.
She forced a neutral expression. It was easy; she did it every night on camera.
“Come on, Paula, I’m not going …”
“It’s no big deal …”
“For you!” The blinking stopped when his frown lines cut two rigid lines between his brows. “It isn’t necessary yet.”
“There must be something wrong.”
“It’s too early to tell.”
“I can’t get pregnant!”
“Sure, you can!”
The words sat in the middle of the floor like the proverbial white elephant. She couldn’t believe he’d brought up her pregnancy in that hateful tone. It was almost enough to make her think he knew the truth. But that wasn’t possible.
She kicked in her footrest and stood calmly to her feet before leaving the room. Behind her, she heard the paper snap open.
Linn settled back onto the tissue-covered vinyl table, feeling exposed and uncomfortable in the gown. She laid a hand over her flat belly, feeling the tiny metal knob of her belly button ring through the tissue. The screen beside her was black and gray, a moving mass that didn’t look like much of anything. Miss C’s eyes were glued to the screen.
Over the past week she’d wondered a hundred times why she hadn’t just gotten rid of it when she had the chance. What had made her panic at the clinic? She felt like a little girl who couldn’t make up her mind. She needed to act like an adult and make a rational decision. What was rational about having a baby at nineteen?
“There it is,” Miss C said.
Linn looked at the screen. It was mostly gray and staticlike. But there was a black area shaped like a kidney bean with something gray inside it.
Miss C pointed with her finger at the grayish area. “Right there, Linn. There’s your baby. Look at the heart beating.”
Linn did see it then. She saw a head. A body. With arms. Legs. And a tiny, throbbing thing. A beating heart. Her own heart skipped a beat.
“This is a really good picture. They’re not always so clear. Isn’t it amazing how fast their hearts beat when they’re this little?” Miss C said.
Linn’s eyes fastened on the little gray mass and couldn’t let go. This wasn’t a blob. Even she could make out the body parts. Her eyes skipped over to the heart. Her baby’s heart.
“Your baby’s only about two inches long, but he or she has eyes and ears and tiny little toes. It never ceases to amaze me.”
Linn couldn’t even find her breath. This wasn’t at all what she’d expected. It was a baby! How could she get around that fact? Sure, its head was big, and its body shape wasn’t real defined, but …
She looked away from the screen. Her stomach rolled. “I feel sick.” These bouts of nausea came and went all the time now, but she wondered if it was her own conscience making her feel sick this time.
Miss C put down the wand and tugged the tissue gown over Linn’s legs. “Can I get you anything? Do you want to sit up?”
Linn sat up, suddenly wanting to leave. Quick.
“Wait a minute, honey. I don’t want you getting dizzy and falling.”
Linn forced herself to sit on the end of the examining table. Her legs dangled over the end, and she felt like a child whose legs weren’t long enough to reach the ground. She didn’t want to be here talking about a baby. She wanted to be with friends talking about the latest piece of gossip about Chad Michael Murray or listening to her favorite Maroon 5 CD.
She shifted, and the tissue paper under her crackled. “I’m OK now.” If you didn’t count the racing heart. “Really.”
Miss C squeezed her hand. “Are you sure? I can get you some water or crackers to settle your stomach.”
Linn shook her head. “I want to change back into my clothes.”
Miss C left her alone to change, asking her to meet in her office when she was done.
After she was dressed, she walked across the hall. Miss C was already seated next to the desk. She patted the chair beside her.
Linn sank into it. The little gray body on the screen flashed in her mind. She’d wanted to know the truth, and now she did. But that just made things harder. Suddenly, her eyes stung. She blinked them. Looked at the wallpaper to distract herself. She did not want to cry right now. She wouldn’t.
“Were you surprised at what your baby looked like?”
Linn wished she would quit calling it that. But when she looked at Miss C, even she could see concern in her eyes. She looked away, blinking.
“I know this is hard for you. You don’t have to do this alone, though. We’ll help you through it. I’ll help you through it. I promise.”
“You don’t understand. My dad—” Her dad would what? Kill her? Hit her? Kick her out? What was she so afraid of? He’d never hit her before, and she knew he’d never kill her. Kick her out, maybe. But was that what she was so afraid of?
He expects this of you anyway. She closed her eyes. It was true. He’d always expected the worst of her. She’d worked so hard in school. So hard to make him proud. And now look at her. She was exactly where he always said she’d end up. Knocked up and alone.
She dashed away the tears that had somehow escaped.
“There are so many ways we can help. You’re not alone, Linn. You can get through this. You’re a strong young woman.”
“I don’t feel strong. I feel stupid.”
“Making a poor decision doesn’t make you stupid.” The gentleness in her voice drew Linn’s gaze to her face. “People make poor decisions all the time. Goodness, I make them every day.”
Miss C’s poor decisions probably amounted to a bad hairdo or Cheetos for breakfast. “But a baby … I’m not ready to be a mom. And my scholarship. I’ll never be able to afford college without that scholarship.”
The woman squeezed her hand. “Maybe we could get them to apply it to next year. You never know until you ask. And adoption is always a wonderful option. There are so many couples looking for a baby just like yours. You can give your baby life, and they can give your baby a home and a loving family.�
��
Linn closed her eyes. She was so confused. Miss C put her hand on Linn’s shoulder.
“So many women think the problem will just go away if they have an abortion. But it only gets worse.”
“How could it possibly get worse?” It seemed her whole world was a big, messy jumble.
“Oh, Linn. I’ve seen so many girls and women who suffered terrible guilt and distress after an abortion. There’s even a name for it. Post Abortion Syndrome. Even the women who think the baby really is just a bunch of cells seem to know better after the abortion. They grieve and hurt and ache over their decision. I don’t want to see you go through that. You can make a better choice.”
Linn’s stomach felt leaden now. Some choice she had. Abort the pregnancy and live with guilt or have the baby. But she wouldn’t be able to keep it, and could she stand to give up her baby? What would it feel like to know someone else was raising her child?
“I don’t know. I just don’t know,” Linn said.
“You don’t have to make a decision today.” Miss C squeezed her hand and sat back in her chair. “How’ve you been feeling? Nauseous?”
Linn nodded. “Off and on. And tired. I feel tired almost all the time.”
“Well, the good news is that passes pretty soon. Probably in just a couple weeks. Have you been to a doctor?”
Like she could afford one. “No.” How would she even be able to take care of herself if she carried the baby all those months? Her dad had no insurance, and her new job at Bubba’s Bar-B-Que was only part-time. She couldn’t even afford an abortion, much less a nine-month pregnancy.
She remembered so clearly, too clearly, what that little gray body on the screen looked like. It was implanted on her brain, and now it would never go away. Could she go through with an abortion now?
It’s just a blob of tissue.
Look at the beating heart.
One day you’ll be knocked up and alone.
You can give your baby life.
They’ll just scrape away the tissue, then it’s all over …
Saving Grace Page 5
