The Choice (6 page)

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

B
efore 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.”

Her mother's words intensified the inner war in Sandy between teenage self-centeredness and budding maternal instinct. She placed her fingers lightly on her stomach. And felt something move. She sat up with a start.

“Is it too early to feel the baby move?” she asked.

“Yes,” her mother said. “Quickening doesn't happen until around four or five months.”

“It's probably gas,” her father added. “That happened a lot to your mother when she was pregnant with you and your brothers. She had terrible gas.”

Sandy's mother cut her eyes at Sandy's father and then continued. “You'd meet with someone from the adoption agency who'd explain everything to you shortly after you move to Atlanta. The agency makes all the arrangements for prenatal care and notifies the hospital of your situation. Once the baby is born, you sign papers allowing it to be adopted.”

Sandy's stomach was in knots.

“Would I see the baby?”

“I wondered about that,” her mother said. “Linda didn't know. I think it would be hard to see the baby and then give it up.”

“Me too,” Sandy said slowly. “I'd hate to go through the hassle of the pregnancy for nothing.”

“We don't have to make that decision tonight,” her father said.

“He's right,” her mother added. “I think it makes sense to place the baby for adoption so you can get on with your life, but I don't want you having regrets down the road when things are hard.”

“It's already been hard,” Sandy said. “And it's going to get worse.”

“Let's all sleep on it and talk more tomorrow,” her mother said.

Later that evening in her room, Sandy faced the question she hadn't brought up with her parents. How would Brad react to her decision? She picked up the pink phone in her bedroom and slowly dialed the Donnellys' number but hung up before the call connected. Five minutes later her phone rang. It was Brad.

“Can you talk?” he asked.

“Yeah, I'm in my room with the door closed. I started to call you but chickened out,” Sandy said.

“You could have. My parents went out to dinner and left me home to watch Nate. It's their way of punishing me.”