Take Three

by Karen Kingsbury

  Pregnant with Taz’s baby for nine months? Facing her parents and their circle of Hollywood friends and investors? Having the whole entertainment world know that Keith Ellison—Christian producer—had a daughter dealing with an unwanted pregnancy? The picture was too horrific to imagine. She needed to get into the city, call Sherry, and find her way to her friend’s house. By tonight it would be over, the agonizing behind her. Andi wiped her tears and pulled her car back onto the road, back up the on-ramp onto the freeway. Traffic had built up and she inched her way into the slow lane.

  She had forty minutes before her appointment, and she couldn’t be late.

  LISA ELLISON FELT UNEASY FROM THE moment her daughter drove away earlier that afternoon. Something wasn’t right. Yes, in the year that Andi had been living on her own at Indiana University she was bound to have gotten used to a certain sense of freedom, and of course she had made friends that Lisa and Keith knew nothing about.

  But the two of them had just landed in Bloomington. They weren’t even unpacked, and with the meetings and busyness ahead, Andi might not get another chance to spend this sort of time with them. So why the sudden rush to head to the city? Keith was caught up in phone calls back to LA, and discussions with Dayne about the theatrical release for The Last Letter, so Lisa was forced to keep her fears to herself.

  Her daughter might have changed considerably. She might be suffering from depression and unsure of her faith. But Lisa still knew her, and something about this trip to Indianapolis simply didn’t add up. By three that afternoon, Lisa wandered back to Andi’s bedroom and sat on the corner of her mattress. Dear God, my daughter’s in trouble. I can feel it. But there’s nothing I can do to reach her, Lord. Lisa put her hand on the familiar bedspread and ran her fingers over the soft cotton. None of this would’ve happened if Rachel hadn’t died. The girl’s death had rocked Andi’s world and opened possibilities she hadn’t considered before. Doubts about God she hadn’t dared imagine.

  Lisa stood and wandered slowly around the room. Andi had moved her things from the dorm and already she’d unpacked her belongings. The photo of Rachel that Andi loved so dearly stood on her small bookcase in the corner of her room. Lisa went to it and picked up the picture. Sweet Rachel. Such a good influence on Andi after they’d returned from Indonesia. Andi had come back to the States looking for life, for adventures she hadn’t experienced on the mission field. But Rachel had kept her grounded, convincing her that the best adventures were those taken with the Lord.

  Sunlight streamed through the window revealing a layer of dust along the top of the bookcase. Lisa absently used the arm of her sweatshirt to remove the dust. The layer came off easily, the way she wished it would with Andi’s heart.

  She glanced around and her eyes fell on a few pieces of notebook paper in the nearby trash can. She recognized Andi’s handwriting on them, and she bent down, lifting them from the container. A few scribblings, dates and addresses. Nothing important. She stacked the notes on Andi’s bedside table and returned to the window again. With every breath she could feel it. Something’s wrong with her, God, something very bad. The ache in her soul was absolute proof, a heaviness that wouldn’t be relieved until she bathed her daughter in prayer.

  Slowly, and with all the love she could muster, she dropped to her knees and covered her face with her hands. Then, for the next thirty minutes, she prayed for Andi as if both their lives depended on it. She begged God to protect Andi and guard her, to grant her peace and clarity and to remind her of the truth. “Put your angels around her, Father. Whatever’s taking her to the city, meet her there.” She begged God over and over again, barely aware of her tears. “If she’s pregnant, convince her to tell us.” Lisa wasn’t sure what else she could do on that topic. The counselor had asked Andi point-blank—and Andi had denied being pregnant.

  So what was this terrible hurt in Lisa’s heart, the awful certainty that something terrible was about to happen to Andi even at this very moment? She kept praying, committing Andi to the Lord, and beseeching Him for His protection over her daughter. When she was finally finished, when she pulled herself wearily to her feet and looked out the window again at some far-off place in the clear summer sky, Lisa was no closer to knowing what her daughter was doing in Indianapolis, or what sort of trouble she might be in. But she was sure of this much: No matter how much she and Keith loved Andi, God loved her more. So much more. And this afternoon—whatever Andi was doing—God would be with her.

  For now, that would have to be enough.

  Twenty-One

  TRAFFIC GREW WORSE AS ANDI NEARED the city, and she chided herself for not being more mindful of the possible delays. Of course there’d be traffic on a Friday afternoon. Andi had just hoped most of the traffic would be heading out of the city, not into it. Twenty minutes passed, and finally Andi was at the turnoff for Sherry’s rented house and the IU Indianapolis campus. According to the directions from Google, the clinic was only a few miles away. She drove off the freeway at the next exit and pulled into the parking lot of a place called Megan’s Diner. It looked fairly upscale, the neighborhood one of the nicer ones on the outer edges of the city. But time was ticking away, and she silently willed Sherry to answer as she called her friend’s cell number.

  Instead, there was no answer, so Andi tried again. Come on, Sherry…don’t let me down. The phone rang and rang, but again the call went to her friend’s voicemail. Thick walls of anxiety closed in around Andi. She hadn’t counted on this. In her wallet was a debit card with access to barely enough money to pay for the abortion, and a ten-dollar bill. She didn’t have money for a cab or a hotel room. Frantically, she hit Redial four more times, but Sherry never answered her phone.

  Andi locked her car doors and leaned her head against her steering wheel. She had no address for Sherry, no land line, and none of the other girls’ cell numbers. No way to reach her except the way she’d been trying—and that wasn’t working. Something must’ve come up, but that wouldn’t help Andi now. She checked the time on her phone. A quarter till four. Fifteen minutes and she was supposed to be walking through the doors of the clinic. Even if she reached Sherry this moment she wouldn’t have time to get to the clinic by four. And she couldn’t go by herself.

  Her heartbeat jumped around, from slow and erratic to speeding fast. What was she supposed to do now? Turn around and go home? And if so, what would she tell her parents? They would be completely suspicious if she tried to explain how her friends didn’t answer, and how they must not have been expecting her. They’d definitely be wary if she explained she was going again next Friday.

  For as terrible as the past hour had been, Andi realized she was hungry. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and then only a couple scrambled eggs. She had no choice but to go into the diner and find something cheap on the menu—a salad, maybe. Then she could keep trying Sherry, and eventually her friend would answer. They would laugh about the miscommunication, and Andi could stay the night with her and the girls. When the weekend was over, she would reschedule the abortion for Monday afternoon. Yes, that’s what she’d have to do. Besides, she wanted to stay in Indianapolis to avoid the Brandon Paul visit anyway.

  She climbed out, locked her car, and headed into the restaurant. Inside, she was seated at a table near the back—adjacent to a pretty woman and her three children. All of them were very attractive, and Andi noticed they spoke with a strong accent. Something European, maybe.

  Andi checked the menu. She had enough money for an order of cheese sticks, a side salad, and water. Nothing more. If the bill was too high, she’d have to use her debit card and then she wouldn’t have enough money for the abortion. She’d earned the money working part-time jobs for a photo shop near campus in Bloomington. Between that and the hundred dollars a month her parents gave her, she had saved up enough for the clinic.

  Her cell phone was still in her hand. Come on. Answer the phone. She hit Redial again, but still Sherry didn’t pick up. Three more times she tried before
the waitress walked up. The girl wasn’t much older than she was, and after Andi placed her order the waitress hesitated. “Hey…are you okay?”

  Her tears came despite the fact that she tried everything in her power to stop them. “Y-y-yes.” She dabbed at her cheeks with her fingertips. “Just a long day.”

  The waitress looked uncomfortable, like she wanted to help but she had no idea what to do. Finally she backed up some. “Okay, well…if you need anything, let me know.”

  Andi nodded, refusing to look up. If she needed anything? She didn’t know where to begin. With shaking fingers she lifted her cell phone once more and tried three final times to reach Sherry. The last time she left a message. “Hey, Sherry,” her voice gave away the fact that she was crying. “I missed my appointment. If you could…if you could call me back…that’d be great.”

  Her tears kept coming, even though she wasn’t sobbing or making any noise. It was like her heart had sprung a leak and nothing was going to stop it from breaking right there in Megan’s Diner. She forced herself to stay quiet, praying that no one besides the waitress would see her meltdown. What was she supposed to do now? Drive home and find a clinic in Bloomington? Tell her parents the truth? Every possibility only made the walls close in a little tighter around her, until she was sure she would suffocate before her dinner arrived.

  But even with tears falling onto her lap, Andi couldn’t help but hear the conversation at the table beside her.

  “We’re starting a band, did I tell you?” The voice belonged to a boy in his mid teens, maybe.

  Andi blinked back her tears and dabbed her eyes with her napkin. As she did she stole a look at the family. The boy talking was tall and blond, maybe sixteen or seventeen. “Nathalie’s going to sing and Kenny’ll play the piano.”

  “Really?” Their mother was a pretty dark-haired woman, her eyes full of life and something Andi inherently knew was a strong faith in Christ. The same eyes her parents had. The eyes she’d had before this year at college. Their mom’s expression brightened. “What about you, Mr. Marco?”

  The oldest teenage boy stuck out his chest. “I’m bass guitar and drums.”

  “Both?” Their mom was teasing now. “People will pay to see that.”

  “Not at the same time.” The middle boy’s eyes were wide with possibility. “Some songs I’ll do the guitar and he’ll do the drums.”

  “Actually, I might have to do the drums most of the time.” Marco swapped a look with his brother and sister. “Kenny, you’ll play guitar or piano. Depending on the song.”

  “Right. That’s a better plan.” Kenny grinned at Marco and then at their mother. “What? You don’t think we can do it?”

  “Oh, yes. With your faith and determination, you can do anything you want. Just like your father.”

  “He’s meeting us, right?” The little girl was darling, beautiful and blonde, with striking blue eyes. The family clearly wasn’t from the United States.

  “Yes, honey. But he can’t stay long. He has a meeting tonight.”

  The girl put her elbows on the table and frowned. “Another meeting.”

  “We knew it would be like this when we agreed to a year abroad.” She smiled at the kids, and then without warning she turned her eyes to Andi. With a slight nod of her head, she seemed to express a sympathy and caring that Andi desperately needed.

  Andi could only imagine how she must’ve looked. Tearstreaked and swollen-eyed. But something told her she didn’t have to worry about this woman judging her, so she found the slightest smile and returned the nod. Then she looked immediately back at her lap. The woman’s children didn’t seem to notice Andi, or the silent greeting from their mother in her direction. They chattered on about their pending band, and how they were going to sing at churches all over America, and how they couldn’t book any dates during soccer season.

  “I might be a pro soccer player.” The middle boy, Kenny, sounded happy and confident. “When the band’s not playing.”

  Andi recognized young Kenny’s tone, because once a lifetime ago that had been her—ready to take on the world, certain that success would find her wherever she turned, trusting on God’s grace and goodness to take her into a life of happiness and joy. She was still listening to the family’s happy banter when the children’s father hurried up and hugged and kissed each of them.

  Again Andi couldn’t help but discretely watch.

  “Felix, you smell wonderful.” His wife looked totally in love as she snuggled up next to her handsome husband. “Hard to believe you’ve put in a day at the office.”

  “It’s all so new and amazing. So much to take back to Switzerland.”

  So that was it. The family was here for a year from Switzerland. Andi couldn’t help but feel jealous of the joy they had together. This was how she’d pictured her life, right? Successful and faith-filled, like Katy and Dayne Matthews. Happy and adventurous like the family a few feet away. She dabbed at her eyes again and willed herself to be invisible.

  The waitress brought food for the family, and then for her, and like the woman had warned, her husband didn’t stay long. When he left it was with promises of watching a movie together when he got home. “Friday’s movie night,” he grinned at them. Then he was off and running. Once he was gone, the kids finished picking at their plates, still talking about their band and the songs they’d write together. They paid their bill, and Andi did the same.

  She was trying to decide what to do next, whether she should sit in her car waiting for Sherry to call back, or drive home and hope for some sane-sounding explanation for her parents. As she sorted through the fragmented thoughts clouding her mind, Andi looked up. The woman at the next table was looking straight at her, sympathy marking her expression. Andi wanted to wave off the attention, explain that she wasn’t worth the woman interrupting her meal and her joyous time with her family. But just then, the woman whispered something to her kids. She stood and approached Andi. “Can I talk to you?”

  There was no way Andi could reject the woman’s offer. To do so would’ve caused more of a scene than she’d clearly already made. Andi nodded and turned her back slightly to the woman’s children. She waited, not wanting to let the woman see her eyes.

  “I’ve been watching you.” Her voice was soft, rich with understanding and a willingness to help. “You’re very upset.”

  “Yes.” What could she say? The woman was a stranger…she wouldn’t want to get involved in Andi’s messy life. “I’m…sorry. You were having a nice time together.”

  “You didn’t bother us.” She leaned in a little closer. “Are you hurt? Is someone threatening you?”

  “No.” Andi looked up, and she realized how desperately she needed help. Even from a stranger. “I…I live in Bloomington, but…I had a doctor’s appointment today. My friend was supposed to meet me here, but she didn’t answer her phone and I missed the appointment, and now I’m not sure what to do. I was supposed to stay with my friend, but now I don’t know where to stay.” Andi couldn’t believe she was spilling her entire story. Something about the woman’s patient way of listening encouraged her to continue. “I can’t afford a hotel, but now my appointment will have to be Monday, so I really need to stay. If only I could get hold of my friend.”

  “My name’s Lucia Kunzmann.” She held out her hand and patted Andi’s fingers. “What’s your name, dear?”

  “Andi. Andi Ellison.” She wanted to add that she came from a great family, and she wasn’t a crazy person. But maybe the woman could already tell that somehow.

  “My husband, Felix, and I are in the US for a year because of his work. He’s an international banker. But in our hearts we’re missionaries.” She smiled and it warmed the space between them. “We pray for God to bring people into our lives who need help.” She paused, her smile never wavering. “You can stay with us tonight, if you’d like. We live just a few blocks from here.”

  Andi could hardly believe what she was hearing. Was the woman serious? Woul
d she really take in a stranger like this? She studied the woman, her trusting eyes. “You’re a Christian, aren’t you?”

  “I am. We’ve been involved in youth ministry and counseling all our lives. We love Jesus very much.” Lucia gave Andi’s hand a quick, tender squeeze. “You too?”

  “Yes.” She thought about the choices she’d made the last year, the ways she’d compromised her faith and taken on viewpoints contrary to God’s Word. She thought about the abortion she should’ve already had by now. She looked down at her hands. “At least…I was.”

  “I thought so.” Lucia ignored Andi’s doubt. “God told me you were a believer.” She stood and waited for Andi to look up again. “So you’ll come? Be our guest tonight?”

  The woman seemed sent straight from the Lord, exactly what she needed at this moment. She gathered her purse and stood, feeling desperately awkward. “It would just be for one night. If you really don’t mind.”

  “We’d love it.” Lucia put her arm around Andi’s shoulders and walked her the few steps to her own table. “Kids, this is Andi. She’s staying with us tonight.” She introduced Marco, Kenny, and Nathalie. The kids seemed completely at ease with the idea that their mother had just invited a complete stranger to spend the night with them. The only explanation was the one Lucia had already given. The family lived out their days looking for people to help, looking for opportunities to be missionaries where God had placed them. In the year away from her parents, it was a concept Andi had almost forgotten. And as she and the Kunzmann family walked out to the parking lot, Andi had a sudden and certain thought.

  Somewhere in Bloomington her parents must be praying for her.

  IN A PERFECT WORLD, NO ONE would ever have to know that Cody’s mother had been taken by ambulance to Bloomington Hospital, or that after they ran tests the truth was painfully clear. Yes, she’d been beat up, but that wasn’t why she nearly died that day. The reason was the drugs. If Cody could’ve hidden the fact from all of Bloomington, he would’ve. But Landon Blake was one of the paramedics, and John Baxter was a doctor in the area. People would see Cody here—the families of football players, teachers at Clear Creek High visiting a relative. Bloomington was a small town. People were bound to find out.