The Choice

by Robert Whitlow

  Sandy was shocked. The possibility of terminating the pregnancy hadn’t crossed her mind.

  “That’s something we haven’t had a chance to discuss,” her father said.

  “And won’t,” her mother added emphatically.

  “Hold on, Julie,” her father said. “We’ve asked the Donnellys to come over here so we can discuss options. This is one of them.”

  “One option you can forget is forcing the children to get married,” Kim said firmly. “They still may have shotgun weddings around here, but we’re not going to let Brad ruin his life by getting married, dropping out of school, and living in a trailer park.”

  “I left my shotgun locked up in the garage,” Sandy’s father replied grimly. “And there’s no need to start tossing around accusations. My wife is entitled to her opinion.”

  Sandy had always thought Brad’s father was the dominant partner in the Donnelly marriage. Now she wasn’t so sure. Kim Donnelly’s face grew red, and her voice climbed even higher.

  “We may be newcomers to Rutland, but when it comes to our son, we’re not going to be bullied or dictated to by you or—”

  Sandy felt the human volcano sitting beside her on the couch about to erupt. She tensed.

  “You’d better shut your mouth if you want to stay another minute in this house!” her father roared.

  In a flash, Kim Donnelly was heading to the front door. Carl followed. Before he could take three steps, the front door slammed as his wife left the house. He spun around and pointed his finger at Sandy’s father.

  “Don’t ever speak to my wife like that again,” he said in a cold voice. “And keep your trampy daughter away from my son. Come on, Brad, let’s get out of here.”

  Sandy and her mother both grabbed Sandy’s father as he started to launch himself off the sofa. Brad hurried after his father without looking back at Sandy. The front door opened and closed again. Sandy’s father jerked loose and bolted toward the foyer.

  “When I get my hands on him—”

  “Bob!” Sandy’s mother cried out. “Let them go. They’re in the car by now.”

  Sandy’s father turned around. There was an expression of anguished rage on his face unlike anything Sandy had ever seen before. Panic rose up inside her as she realized her father might do something so violent that it would scar their family forever, perhaps even worse than the humiliation she was already bringing. He turned toward the door.

  “Daddy, please! Stop!” Sandy cried out.

  “Dad!” Ben called from the top of the stairs. “What’s going on down there?”

  Sandy’s father paused and ran his right hand across the top of his head.

  “Nothing!” he roared.

  A few seconds later, Sandy’s brother appeared in the doorway. He was wearing too-small pajamas that Sandy had given him the previous Christmas. He rubbed his eyes.

  “I heard yelling, and the front door slammed. Are y’all having a fight?”

  “No,” Sandy’s mother answered. “We’ll talk about it later.”

  Ben stepped into the living room and saw the coffee table and plate of untouched hors d’oeuvres.

  “Can I have a snack? I’m hungry.”

  Sandy braced for another explosion from her father. He stared incredulously at Ben for a second, then waved his hand toward the food.

  “Go ahead. Eat all you want.”

  Sandy’s father left the room and headed toward the master suite at the rear of the house. Ben began wolfing down the snacks. Sandy and her mother carried the coffee service, cups, and saucers into the kitchen.

  “What now?” Sandy asked as she poured the steaming coffee down the drain.

  “Another sleepless night,” her mother answered.

  “I’m sorry,” Sandy said.

  Sandy had already apologized, but there seemed to be no end to the opportunities to do so. As her mother bent to open the dishwasher, Sandy thought she saw lines on her face that hadn’t been there before.

  “This is one of those things a parent knows can happen but doesn’t believe ever will,” her mother said. “It’s going to be one day at a time for all of us, and I don’t have anything left for this one.”

  As she lay in bed that night, Sandy thought about her parents suffering in their bedroom. She knew the Donnelly house was also in an uproar. What Brad’s parents said stung, but the coldness she felt from Brad hurt worse. She turned over and buried her face in her pillow.

  The next day news of Sandy’s pregnancy had become common knowledge at Rutland High by third period. Jessica swore she hadn’t mentioned it to a soul, which meant Brad said something to one of his buddies, who then told a girl, any girl. That one spark of information triggered a firestorm of gossip that swept through the school faster than an atomic chain reaction. When Sandy walked down the hall toward her locker before fourth period, she felt every set of eyes she encountered staring at her. She stood in front of her locker for a few moments, then closed it without taking out her Spanish textbook. Instead, she walked directly to the school office. Mrs. Branson, the school secretary, saw her come in. She picked up the phone before Sandy spoke.

  “Mr. Pickerel, Sandy Lincoln is here to see you.”

  Sandy stood with her hands folded in front of her. The door behind the secretary opened, and the bald-headed principal came out.

  “Hello, Sandy,” he said. “Come in.”

  Sandy sat down in a chair in front of the principal’s desk.

  “I guess you heard,” she began. “I’m pregnant, and Brad Donnelly is the father.”

  “Yes.”

  Sandy looked down at the floor. “If it’s okay, I’d like to go home.”

  The principal picked up a slip of paper and scribbled something on it.

  “Here’s an excuse to leave campus for the day. Sandy, you’re an outstanding student and I want to help in any way I can, but my hands are going to be tied by your circumstances. Ask your mother or father to call me as soon as possible.”

  Sandy left the office, glad that the halls were now empty of students. She stopped by her locker to get some books and then walked toward the rear of the building. The parking lot for seniors was between the main classroom building and the football field. As she walked toward her car, a male figure emerged from the locker room beneath the home side of the football stadium and started walking toward her.

  It was Brad.

  Sandy stopped in her tracks. She didn’t know whether to return to the classroom building or dash to her car and flee. Before she could make up her mind, Brad started jogging in her direction. There was no avenue of escape. He met her a few feet from her car.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hi.”

  Brad took another step forward. Sandy flinched. Her arms were full of books, and she hoped he wasn’t going to give her a hug.

  “I’m sorry about last night,” he said. “My mom acted like a jerk.”

  Sandy searched Brad’s face. He seemed sincere.

  “My daddy shouldn’t have yelled at her,” she said and sighed. “The whole idea of getting together with our parents to talk things over was a disaster.”

  “Yeah.” Brad looked past Sandy toward the school building. “Where are you going?”

  “Home. I can’t take the way people are staring at me.”

  “Who? If anyone hassles you, I’ll put a stop to it.”

  “How did the word get out?” Sandy asked. “Did you tell someone?”

  “Only Coach Cochran. I met with him before school started.”

  “You didn’t say anything to your friends?”

  “No, but everyone knows.”

  “It would have happened eventually.” Sandy shrugged. “What did Coach Cochran say?”

  “The school board will have to decide if I get kicked off the team.”

  Sandy started to get upset that Brad’s thoughts went to football, then realized that’s how her mother must have felt about cheerleading. That conversation now seemed a long time ago, wh
en life’s trivial activities still seemed important.

  “Let me take your books,” Brad offered.

  “No, I’m just going to my car.”

  Sandy started forward. Brad kept pace with her.

  “Why aren’t you in English class?” he asked.

  “How could I listen to old Mrs. Brooks talk about grammar and composition?”

  They reached Sandy’s car. She opened the passenger door and put her books in the front seat. Brad rested his left hand against the roof of the car.

  “Did you get sick this morning?” he asked.

  “Just a little queasy. If I drink a glass of milk, it seems to help. I guess my body needs vitamin D.”

  “Yeah.”

  Sandy waited. Brad looked into her eyes.

  “Did you think any more about what my mother said about taking care of the pregnancy?”

  “You mean getting an abortion?” Sandy bristled.

  “Don’t get mad. We’re just talking.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “We made a mistake,” Brad said. “And I didn’t handle the news very well. I need to apologize to you about that. Since then, I’ve had time to think things over. Really, it’s all I’ve done since study hall.” He looked at her earnestly. “Here’s what I know. I care about you a lot and don’t want you to suffer.”

  Sandy softened. Brad continued.

  “And while our parents might not think so, I believe our relationship is something special that could lead to marriage. But the pressure of having a baby in high school doesn’t make sense for either one of us. When it’s the right time, I want to be a father. That should be something planned, not accidental.”

  “But an abortion?”

  “Will let us go back to the beginning and do this thing the right way. If you want, I’ll go to Atlanta with you.”

  Sandy wavered. Carl Donnelly paying for the procedure meant nothing to her. The offer of personal support from Brad was tempting.

  “I’d have to talk to my parents. I know my mama won’t like the idea.”

  “It’s your choice. Nobody should make you do something you don’t want to do. Not her, not anybody.”

  “Let me think about it.”

  Brad leaned over and, before Sandy could pull back, kissed her on the lips. She didn’t resist, but when their lips parted she quickly glanced toward the school.

  “If a teacher saw that we could—”

  Brad laughed. “Get in trouble?”

  That evening Sandy and her parents told her brothers about the pregnancy. Ben’s face turned red. Jack looked puzzled. Sandy could see the wheels of Ben’s mind turn as he processed what had happened between his sister and Brad Donnelly. He sat with his arms across his chest and didn’t say anything.

  “Where is the baby going to sleep?” Jack asked.

  “We’ve not decided that yet,” Sandy’s mother replied. “There are a lot of questions about the future that aren’t going to be answered tonight, but we wanted you to hear the news from us. Now, both of you go upstairs and do your homework.”

  The seriousness of the moment prevented the boys from arguing. They dutifully trudged up the stairs.

  “That went well,” Sandy’s father said when the boys were gone.

  “I’m not so sure about Ben,” Sandy answered.

  “You’re right,” her mother agreed. “I’ll talk to him one-on-one later.”

  “Your mother mentioned that you came home early from school,” her father said. “What happened?”

  Sandy told how she felt in the hallways as news of her pregnancy spread. Her mother’s eyes grew teary.

  “So I went to the office and Mr. Pickerel gave me permission to come home. He wants one of you to call him.”

  “I’ll do it,” her mother said, wiping the corner of her right eye.

  “And on my way out to the car, I ran into Brad in the parking lot,” Sandy said.

  “Did he say or do—” her father said, his voice getting louder.

  “He apologized for how his parents acted last night,” Sandy broke in, then paused. “And told me he’d go to Atlanta with me if I decide to have an abortion.”

  “Sandy—” her mother began.

  “Please, Mama, let me finish.”

  Sandy repeated the rest of her conversation with Brad, except the part about marriage.

  “That’s Kim Donnelly talking,” her mother said. “She prepped him. I can hear her voice secondhand.”

  “You should have seen his face. It didn’t come across that way at all.”

  “An abortion is a disgraceful thing that used to be performed in back alleys in unsanitary conditions,” her mother shot back. “Your granny would turn over in her grave if she knew you were considering something like that.”

  Sandy had loved her maternal grandmother, a country woman with kind blue eyes and the recipe for the best sugar cookies on earth. Sandy’s father put his hands on the table.

  “I want to say something,” he said. “And hear me out before either of you cut me off. Last night I got upset with Brad’s mother, but today at the office I thought about what she said.” He looked at Sandy’s mother. “Regardless of the source, I don’t want us to rule out any option without a good reason. I went by to see Reverend Frost and asked his opinion about abortion. He told me there are different beliefs about when a baby becomes a human being. A lot of people think it has to be able to survive outside the mother’s body to be a person. Before that, it’s a collection of cells that only has the potential to be a person. If that’s true, the most important question for us to answer is what’s best for Sandy. Ending the pregnancy would allow her to get back to normal: going to school, cheerleading, planning for college, and enjoying everything that her senior year in high school is supposed to be.”

  “Reverend Frost told you Sandy should have an abortion?” Sandy’s mother asked.

  “No. But he said it wasn’t a clear-cut situation, and because it’s so early in the pregnancy, we should consider Sandy’s needs first.”

  Sandy wanted to think about herself too. Two days into knowing she was pregnant was enough time to convince her that it might be smart to end the problem before it got worse. A fresh start following a hard lesson learned sounded more and more like a good idea. And the minister’s words to her father eased her conscience.

  Brad’s face swam into view. She cared about him a lot. Otherwise she wouldn’t have done what she did with him. Daydreams about marriage to the handsome football player weren’t new, but they’d been squelched during the past forty-eight hours. Away from their parents’ interference, she just knew the two of them could work things out. Sandy was glad her mother couldn’t read her mind.

  “I had a conversation today too,” her mother said. “With Linda. She thinks—”

  “Why did you have to invite her to stick her nose in this?” Sandy’s father interrupted with obvious exasperation. “I get tired of her always running her mouth and spouting her opinion as if it were written in red in the Bible.”

  “Linda has more sense than anyone else in this family, and we’re so emotionally involved it’s hard for us to think straight. I let you finish. Now it’s my turn.”

  Sandy’s father grunted. “I just don’t like it when she pretends to be your mother.”

  “She took care of me when I was little, and now that my folks are gone, I’m glad I have someone like her in my life. You won’t think she’s just trying to be nosy when you hear what she’s offered to do.”

  FIVE

  Before her mother could continue, the phone on the kitchen wall rang. Sandy got up and answered it. It was a classmate from school.

  “Becky, there’s nothing else to tell,” Sandy said. “Look, I’ve got to go. I’m talking to my parents.” Sandy paused and listened for a moment. “No, that’s not true, and if you’re my friend you won’t repeat it.”

  Sandy hung up.

  “What did she say?” her mother asked.

  “Nothing.�
�

  “You said something wasn’t true. What was it?”

  Sandy rolled her eyes. “Becky Allen heard that Brad and I were going to elope and get married in Las Vegas.”

  “Who started that rumor?” her mother asked.

  “Lynn Jordan. I’ve tried to be nice to her, but she’s hated me ever since I was elected to the sophomore homecoming court and she wasn’t.”

  “There’s going to be all kinds of crazy talk,” Sandy’s mother said, shaking her head. “Anyway, Linda has offered to let you live with her until the baby is born. She got in touch with a special school in Atlanta that will accept you so you can graduate on time. I can talk to Mr. Pickerel tomorrow, but we all know he’s not going to let you stay in school while you’re pregnant.”

  Sandy’s mouth was dry. She’d always been intimidated by her spinster aunt. After earning a biochemistry degree from Vanderbilt, Linda had worked for years at the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta. Sandy wasn’t sure exactly what she did, but it had something to do with scary-sounding viruses and bacteria that, if released, could kill half of humanity. The thought of living in the same house with her aunt made her skin crawl.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Sandy said.

  “Do you have a better one?” her mother asked.

  “Live here. You told me yesterday you weren’t going to kick me out onto the street.”

  “But it’s going to be hard for you to be in Rutland during the pregnancy. You didn’t last a whole day at school, and it’s only going to get worse.”

  “But if I stayed with Aunt Linda, where would I go after the baby was born?”

  “Come back home until you leave for college in the fall. Linda and I agree the best thing to do is place the baby for adoption. There are plenty of couples who can’t have children and desperately want one. While Kim Donnelly was calling abortion clinics, Linda contacted several adoption agencies in Atlanta. She’s narrowed the list down to two that only work with middle- and upper-middle-class couples. Kim can say all she wants about getting rid of an accidental baby, but it’s not the baby’s fault that it’s inside your womb, and in about seven months the ‘it’ is going to be a tiny boy or girl who deserves a chance at life, even if you’re not in a position to raise it.”