Black Friday

by Tim LaHaye

  Jodi bit the end of her pen and then decided to jump in with both feet. “It’s Jodi—but, um, do you have to tell my parents?”

  “Relax, Jodi. We’re just talking right now, okay? Everything will be fine,” Delores said, speaking the words with a smooth, soft tone. “But first, let’s start with a simple question. When was the date of your last period?”

  Jodi had anticipated this. She gave a date.

  Delores said, “Okay. Just give me a second while I figure this up.”

  Jodi said, “I know I can be somewhat irregular, but I don’t ever remember it being this late.”

  “Of course, Jodi. I understand. Looks like it’s been ten weeks.”

  Jodi blew a long breath. “Gosh.”

  “There’s no reason to be alarmed, Jodi,” Delores said. “Tell me, Jodi, how old are you?”

  “Um, sixteen. But I’ll be seventeen in a couple of days.”

  “Then let me be the first to say happy birthday.”

  Jodi switched the phone to her other ear. “Thanks, um, Delores. I guess this is one present I, like, wasn’t looking for.”

  “Jodi, remember, we’re here for you,” Delores said. “We can take care of the problem if you’d like.”

  “I . . . I just don’t know where to turn,” Jodi said.

  Delores said, “You know, Jodi, we’ve been caring for women for many years. You’ll see we have a great team that can walk you through this. It really can be all over before you know it.”

  “Really? What about telling my parents?”

  “No one needs to know.” Delores added, “Before we hang up, I’ll provide you with a phone number to call. Just listen to the prerecorded message that describes the choice you’re about to make. I know it’s a hassle, but it’s one of those government regulations we’ve got to comply with.”

  “Like, when should I call?”

  “Tonight is best. That way you’ll have satisfied the waiting period requirement, at least as far as we’re concerned. It’s really that simple. Like I said, no one needs to know.”

  That didn’t sound right to Jodi. She knew Pennsylvania had a parental-consent law on the books. She had even debated the informed-consent issue with other students in social studies class. Maybe Gus was right. He claimed that the clinic would just tell her to use a different color pen while forging her parent’s signature on the consent form.

  Delores interrupted her thoughts. “Tell me, Jodi, have you ever been pregnant?”

  “No. And we, that is, this guy from school and I, only did it once. I thought he loved me. I thought he was the one. But now, after I, like, told him the bad news, he doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

  “Jodi, I’m sure you know that once is all it takes. And you acted on what you thought at the time. Don’t get down on yourself. We all make mistakes, and an unwanted pregnancy doesn’t have to be a scary thing,” Delores said. “The way I see it, you’re so young. You have your future ahead of you. Let me guess—you probably have plans to go to college and get married one day, right?”

  “Yeah, that would be nice.”

  “And you’re probably thinking that having a baby now would get in the way of all that.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Do you know what, Jodi? I talk with women every day who are in the same situation as you are,” Delores said. “They feel trapped. Is that how you feel?”

  “Wow, how did you know?”

  Delores seemed amused by the question. “Oh, probably because I assist women just like you every day.”

  “But, is it, um, expensive?” Jodi tapped the end of her pen against the edge of the desk.

  “First, let me say I believe you would be making the best decision of your life.”

  “Really?”

  “Absolutely. This way, you’ll be able to finish high school without the stigma and hassles of being pregnant.” Delores cleared her throat. “And, beyond that, this choice will allow you to chase your dreams.”

  “I . . . I never thought of it like that,” Jodi said. She was amazed at how polished Delores was sounding. She’d make an awesome used-car salesman.

  “You asked about the money. Right now, we can make this problem disappear for $295. That includes an on-site pregnancy test and pelvic exam to verify your status. Would you like for me to arrange an appointment?”

  “Oh, gee, I don’t think I can afford—”

  “What about savings?”

  Jodi offered a nervous laugh. “Can’t say I’ve started a savings account yet.”

  Delores said, “What about your friends? Could you borrow it? You know, get five dollars, ten dollars, or whatever they have. You can always get a job and pay them back.”

  “Yeah, I guess . . . ,” Jodi said, pretending to be discouraged.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Delores said. “The longer you put off this procedure, the more expensive it will become, and we wouldn’t want that now, would we?”

  Jodi remained quiet.

  Delores said, “Jodi, come see me tomorrow with whatever you can afford, and we’ll see what we can do for you, okay?”

  Jodi hesitated then said, “All right.”

  “Be sure to ask for me, Delores. I’ll be in the reception area, and I’ll make sure you get the royal treatment.”

  Jodi thought, but didn’t say, Yeah, and a commission for reeling me in. Instead, she decided to explore a different avenue.

  “Oh, I was wondering something else, Delores.”

  “Yes, Jodi?”

  “Um, like, is the person who does this procedure a doctor? I mean, not to be overly cautious . . . but you hear stories in the news and such.”

  Delores paused, then said, “Let me assure you, Jodi, our clinic is a first-class facility. We employ only the highest-qualified people in the field and have thousands of satisfied customers. You’ll be in good hands.”

  Jodi noticed Delores didn’t answer the question. How difficult would it have been for her to say, “Yes, Dr. So-and-So is board-certified by the National Medical blah blah blah”?

  Jodi tried another angle. “That’s good, but, um, I have another question if that’s okay.”

  “Of course, Jodi. Although we close for the day in a few minutes, I’m here for you.”

  “Okay, great.” Jodi took a quick breath. “Well, see, I’ve heard about—complications, or whatever—like getting a punctured uterus . . . excessive hemorrhaging . . . and stuff like that. Anyway, so I’m kinda wondering how often that happens at, um, your clinic.” Jodi bit her lip. She added, “You know, I just want to be on the safe side if I go through with all this.”

  Again, Delores seemed to pause longer, as if trying to choose her words carefully.

  “Jodi, believe me when I say it’s natural to wonder about these matters. I understand how you feel, too. I’d probably be asking many of the same questions. But there comes a time when you have to decide for yourself if this choice is right for you.”

  Are you going to answer my question? Jodi thought.

  Delores said, “I’ll tell you what, Jodi. Come in tomorrow and bring any questions you may have. I’m confident our staff and our facility will put your mind at ease. When can I expect you?”

  “Uh, what time do you open?”

  “Nine o’clock,” Delores said. “You’ll be back on your feet before noon with a smile on your face. I promise.”

  “Wow. Really?” Jodi said, the palms of her hands moist with fear at the prospect of carrying the charade that far. “Guess I’ll see you at nine.”

  “That’s a good girl,” Delores said. “And don’t forget your money.”

  “Bye.” Jodi lowered the phone into the cradle. She sat motionless, too deep in thought to move. Delores was good. Really good. She appeared to care. And, for all Jodi knew, maybe she did care. Before making the call, Jodi would have viewed Delores as just some glorified telemarketer, anxious to make a quick sale at Jodi’s expense.

  Now she wasn’t so sure.

  On t
he other hand, if Delores cared about her crisis as much as she appeared to, Jodi wondered why she dodged her questions about the physical risks. Come to think of it, why didn’t she present any of the other choices? Delores didn’t mention giving up the baby for adoption. She didn’t really explore the idea of Jodi marrying her “boyfriend.”

  How ironic. With a name like Total Choice Medi-Center, you’d think they’d offer a range of options. Maybe a better name would have been the Only Choice Medi-Center, she thought, suppressing a smile.

  Still, the most troubling part of the conversation was how convincing Delores appeared to be. Jodi wondered what she would have honestly done had she really been in a crisis. After all, in less than ten minutes, Delores felt like a friend.

  A trustworthy adviser.

  An ally.

  In the quiet of the moment, it dawned on her that she would have made a lifelong decision based on nothing more than the assurances of a complete stranger.

  Just as Faith had done.

  Chapter 22 Wednesday, 7:33 p.m.

  Atrip to Johnny Angel’s, the local favorite burger-and-shake hangout, was like a trip back in time. Sporting a fifties retro décor, posters of Chuck Berry, Dion and the Belmonts, and Bill Haley and the Comets were mounted on the walls. A life-size Elvis cardboard figurine was propped in a corner near the giant jukebox.

  Black and white floor tiles were arranged like a giant checkerboard, and a row of red vinyl bar stools were parked at an ice cream bar where waitresses, dressed as if at a sock hop, served generous scoops of hand-dipped treats into tall Coca-Cola glasses.

  Stan and Jodi sat across from each other in a booth in the back corner. Stan had ordered a root beer float; Jodi, a strawberry shake. She kept reminding herself this wasn’t exactly a date. They were here “on business.” Just the same, every so often she’d look up from her shake and catch Stan looking at her, or so she thought.

  The jukebox finished playing “Teen Angel” and then launched into “Love Potion #9.” Stan leaned back against the wall, stretching his legs across his side of the booth. He drained the rest of his float and then licked the end of the straw.

  “So, I have to know,” Jodi said. “How in the world did you find Faith’s file?”

  “Like you say, ‘It’s a God thing,’” Stan said, setting down the cup. “It just kind of dropped in my lap. Oh, and I have three other files I need to give you.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

  “I dunno. Maybe you can use them as evidence for your story,” he said. “Let’s just say Dr. Graham wanted me to shred a whole bunch of files we’re supposed to keep.”

  “Gosh, I still can’t believe you actually met the guy.”

  “Jodi, I’ve never done anything so wild in my life.”

  Jodi wiped her mouth with a napkin. Her cell phone rang in her purse. She pulled it out, glanced at the caller I.D., and then silenced the ring without answering. “Sorry. So, it was really nuts, huh?”

  “Like you wouldn’t believe. I mean,” Stan said, “get this. On my first day, Dr. Graham had me hauling these bottles, or whatever, with the remains from the, uh, procedures to the back room where some guy strains out the blood—”

  “Um, Stan, we’re eating—”

  “Before putting the baby back together . . . just to make sure all the parts are there, you know, so nothing is left inside the patient—”

  “Stan—”

  “And then he grinds them up in the sink disposal—”

  Jodi reached across the table and pinched his arm.

  “Ouch! Why’d you do that?”

  “I get the picture,” Jodi said, her eyes wide as saucers.

  Stan rubbed his arm. “Yeah, well, maybe . . . but I doubt it.”

  She folded her arms. “What does that mean?”

  “Only that unless you see it for yourself, you have no idea what’s going on back there,” Stan said. He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. “To see all those little babies lined up waiting to be tossed down the sink . . . it’s worse than going to a . . . a horror movie. I’m telling you, I’ll never forget it.”

  She uncrossed her arms. “Okay, so you’re right. I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s, like, hard to imagine that goes on all the time. But guess what?”

  He looked over at her.

  “I’ve got an appointment to see Delores at the clinic in the morning. I told her I thought I was pregnant.”

  “Wow. So you’re really gonna see if Gus is right?”

  Jodi nodded. “Yeah. Joey says I need to have, like, at least two credible witnesses for a story. I figure there’s you . . . and now there’s me. You know, teamwork and all that.” Her face f lushed, hoping he wouldn’t read too much into her comment.

  He smiled. “I’ll be sure to wave.”

  “Actually, if you do, you’ll blow my cover and I’ll probably claw out both your eyes,” she said. “Seriously, Stan. Don’t get me in trouble. I’m already taking a big risk here.”

  “Hey, you know me—”

  “Exactly. That’s the problem,” she said. “But there is something I need from you.”

  “Sure. Like what?” Stan said, bringing a finger to his forehead as if deep in thought. “Let me guess—you need a kiss?”

  Jodi blushed. “Yeah, and then maybe you’d turn back into a toad.”

  Stan slammed his hand to his chest as if stabbed with a dagger. “Arrgh. You sure know how to hurt a guy.”

  Jodi hooked her hair over her right ear. “You’ll survive. Anyway, if I’m gonna do this, I need you to, um, provide a urine sample.”

  Stan smirked.

  “What’s so funny?”

  He reached into his pocket. “Gotcha covered. One donation coming right up.” He placed a two-inch plastic cup with a white lid and a Total Choice Medi-Center label on the table. Pushing it toward her, Stan said, “Somehow I just knew you’d be doing something crazy like this.”

  “Hey there,” Jodi said, plopping down on the sofa next to her mom. She pulled her hair back and, with a scrunchy, formed a ponytail.

  “Hey, honey. You’re home kinda late. How was your day?” Rebecca Adams said, turning a page in the Talbot’s summer catalog.

  Jodi sighed. “Beyond crazy.”

  “You wanna talk about it?”

  “Yeah, but maybe later, Mom. Where’s Dad?”

  “Out back, I think.”

  “Cool. Any messages?”

  “Heather called. She’s at home. I’d say she sounded upset. You guys have a fight?”

  “Not that I know of . . . but, like, when did she call?”

  “I’d say around seven.”

  Jodi had been meaning to call Heather all day, especially since she’d stormed off without saying good night. Jodi looked at her watch. Almost nine. Heather’s steaming by now, she thought. Jodi kissed her mom on the side of the head and stood to leave. “I’d better call and see what’s up.”

  “There’s leftovers in the fridge—”

  “Thanks, Mom,” Jodi said from the hallway. She grabbed the kitchen cordless, a bottle of water, and then dialed.

  “Hey, it’s me,” Jodi said, the phone wedged between her ear and shoulder.

  “It’s about time you called. Where have you been?” Heather seemed to spit out the words.

  “Um, at work.” Jodi took a drink of water.

  “After that I mean. I even tried your cell phone.”

  “Heather, like, what’s with the interrogation?”

  No answer.

  “Is this about Stan?” Jodi said. “Let me guess—you’re jealous because of his attention to Faith, is that it?”

  “No.”

  “Then what’s this about?”

  “You.”

  “Me? What did I do?”

  “Get a clue, Jodi.” Heather’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

  “Like, if you’re gonna be all junior high about it . . . I happened to be with Stan when you called tonight.”


  Silence.

  “Heather, it’s not like what you’re thinking.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really,” Jodi said. Although, if totally honest, Jodi had to admit she enjoyed the thought of being with Stan.

  “Well,” Heather said, “I saw how you two were acting last night. Gosh, like, I thought you were my friend.”

  Jodi rolled her eyes. “What in the world? So, that’s why you were all rude—”

  “Yeah, maybe. Sure. That’s part of it.”

  “And? . . . What else is bothering you?”

  Heather blew out a breath. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Jodi wasn’t about to press the point. If Heather didn’t want to talk about something, even an act of Congress wouldn’t force her to talk.

  “Look, Heather, call off the attack dogs,” Jodi said, wanting to smooth things over. “Just so you know, we were talking about Gus and the clinic . . . and the fact that Stan got a job there this morning and he found out all kinds of crazy stuff. That’s why we were talking.”

  Neither one spoke for a full minute. Jodi picked through the ends of her hair. She knew Heather would talk when she was good and ready to say something. And if not, oh well. Jodi had plenty to do to get ready for the morning.

  “Honestly? I guess your whole clinic thing bothers me,” Heather said.

  Jodi had guessed as much but wasn’t about to interrupt.

  Heather said, “Tell me, what do you really think you’re going to do snooping around there? I mean, come on, abortion has been legal since before we were born. For us, it’s always been that way. Do you think your crusade is gonna change that?”

  “Probably not,” Jodi said. “But that’s not the goal.”

  Heather said, “Then I guess I don’t see what the point is of getting all worked up over . . . that place.”

  “In case you missed it, this is about Faith as much as it is about what Gus said is going on with Dr. Graham.”

  “This is gonna sound awful,” Heather said, “but as far as Faith is concerned, I think what’s done is done. She made a choice . . . so this is her problem, not yours. Why can’t you and Stan just let go of it?”

  Jodi put the cap back on her water bottle. “Remember the story of Cain?”