My Forever (8 page)

~
~
~

“How did it go?” Mrs. Davies, the nurse, asks as I walk back into her office. She set up an alibi for me this morning.

I shrug.

“That’s it?”

“Well, it wasn’t on my list of high points.” What else am I supposed to say?
“But it could have been worse.” True.

She nods. “Dani, I don’t want to put added pressure on you here
,
but I
can’t continue to cover for you.
I could lose my job.”

“I’m sorry.”

She’s been really great
,
and I know I’m asking a lot simply by not telling my parents. The weight hits my chest hard. If I think my life feels off balance and stressful now, I can’t imagine what it’ll be like in a few more months.

“It’s okay
for now. But only cause I lik
e you so much.” She smiles
.

After my doctor appointment, which seems like less of a big deal the further I get from it, and my talk with the nurse, I go to class
. It seems like such a ridiculous use of energy and time after spending the morning talking to counselors and having someone very carefully
check
all of my private bits. I just want to go home, though I’m getting even less comfort from there than I used to. Keeping secrets is exhausting
work
.

~
~
~

I’m still conflicted about how good it feels to go through Michael’s church for this baby. I can’t think about anything else. He’d broken things down so simply, ‘go with what feels good.’ I’m trying but the idea seems off.
Wrong.
There has to be more.

I spend the next couple of weeks learning as much as I can about the Mormon Church. It’s not easy. I can’t use the computer at home and time at school is limited and not very private. As I do learn, I begin to see how the things I’ve been told are twisted versions of the truth. I’m at the school library, on the LDS Church website, navigating around as fast as I can in my remaining five minutes.

“You know,
” Tracy
says
behind me. “If you’re curious, you can just talk to the missionaries.” She sits down at a computer next to mine in the library. Great. I’m caught.

“I don’t know…” T
hat seems like a kind of commitment of its own. One I’m pretty sure I’m not willing to make. The pr
oblem is that w
hen I think about the baby, I feel the pull. Maybe if the commitment is for the baby and not for me, it’ll be easier to make. My head is still telling me that the Mormons are weird, no matter how nice they might be at school. So my head and heart aren’t completely reconciled
,
but I’m working on it.

I’m quiet for a long time, long enough that she continues.

“Well, just think about it
.
I’m sure we could meet with them
after school. It’s what they do. I
t’s no big deal.” She touches my shoulder briefly before standing up and walking away. It may not b
e a big deal to her, but it definitely
feels like a big deal to me.

~
~
~

I go home and Mom’s worried about me, I can tell. She keeps shifting these odd glances in my direction. I’ll have to do better. The last few days of Mormon research have kept my brain completely pre-occupied.
Mostly,
I just want space to clear my head.

My brain works hard as I lie in bed and stare at my ceiling. I pray a bit, in random segments, which I’m not great at, and I begin to develop a plan. I’m still doing my
best to follow Michael’s advice.
I’m trying to ignore the noise in my head and trying to listen harder to what feels good. It makes it easier for me to trust myself than I would have thought possible. Especially when I know I’m about to do something that I never imagined myself doing.

I leave
a note in the morning.

Mom –

I’ll be home late from school today; I’m helping with the play. If it’s not too hard for you to do without me in the afternoons, I might stay after to help with the production once in a while.

Dani

Today is taken care of, and many more, though I know I’ll have to stick around for part of play rehearsal for alibis. I’m taking Tracy up on her offer to talk to the missionaries. Maybe now I’ll be able to learn a little more. I might at least be able to figure out why I feel good about putting my baby up for adoption with a group of people I’ve been taught to disdain. I don’t like that my head and my heart are saying two different things.

6

I step with Michael and Tracy into the doors of their church after school. It’s only a block away. I’ve been into lots of churches in my life, lots of different denominations, but never a Mormon church. I expect to feel a kind of ominous foreboding but don’t. It’s just a church.
Just a building.
Boring white brick and grandma flora
l chairs wait in the entry.
I kind of laugh at myself for being worried.

Two guys sit waiting with suits and namet
ags, easy to know who they are.
They’re both
medium height, medium build, clean cut and in matching clothes. I’d laugh if I didn’t find the whole situation filled with
massive
amounts of insanity. I remember hiding behind the couch giggling with my sisters when they’d come knocking on our door.

We all find a comfortable spot right there in the foyer. It feels good, like the door is right here. I can easily make my escape if I need to.
Michael gives an opening prayer.
I know I should listen to the words
,
but instead I feel his voice. There’s a warmth and depth to what he says that feels familiar, good. I feel t
he loss
when he’s finished
.

They tell me a story about a fourteen-year-old boy who went into the woods and prayed and then
saw
Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.

Yeah, saw.
What am I doing here?

We all sit in silence for a while.

“You do know that sounds crazy right?” I say.

They’re completely unbothered. “The fourteen-year-old boy part or seeing deity?” Elder Simmons asks with a smirk
(thank goodness for nametags)
.

“Both!” The whole idea… no wonder Dad thinks they’re nuts.

“What about the fact that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ are two separate personages?” Elder Night asks.

“No, I actually follow you there
.” But h
ow can they focus on that when the rest is so clearly ridiculous?

They laugh. “Well, there’s a start.”

“It doesn’t bother you that I don’t buy the rest of it?” My father is more argumentative. He has to make sure that you not only understand his point of view, but agree with it as well.

“Not at all
,
” Elder Night shakes his head.

“I have some scriptures for you to read, if you want, then spend some time praying about it,” Elder Simmons adds.

“That’s it?” They’re really not bothered. How is this possible?

“Yep.” They exchange glances.

Michael and Tracy smile as well.

“And then I’ll suddenly believe your story?”

“Well, technically it’s not our story
. B
ut yeah, that’s the idea.”

“And this tends to work for you?” I want to laugh.

One of them shrugs and looks at me. “We haven’t been out in the mission field all that long, so I guess we’ll find out.”

It’s funny, with the suits and nametags I hadn’t really thought about where they were from.

“How old are you guys?”

“I’m nineteen,” Elder Simmons says
.
“And Elder Night is
twenty
.”

“Wait.” This is crazy. “I’m learning about your church from people only a couple of years older than me?” Don’t they have professionals for this kind of thing?

“Most boys in our church go on a mission from 19 to 21,” Tracy says.

“Are
you
going?” I look back at Michael. My chest feels hollow at the thought, which I know is crazy because we’re barely even friends. But he feels a part of this somehow.

“Yeah, soon actually. I turn nineteen in September. I’ve been a year behind in school since my parents divorced.”

Michael will be gone before I have this baby. I’m suddenly not sure what I’m going to do without his support. I sit and stare at him for a moment. My chest is heavy
,
and I
have to
focus to breathe.

“What brought you here, Dani?” Elder Simmons asks.

My head snaps back to him. “It’s a long story. I just wanted to know more.” What
did
bring me here?

I glance back. Michael.
Michael and his adoption.
Okay, so I have to admit, even to myself, that spending time around him is a perk, but it also makes me pathetic. I think about studying on my own and listening to that quiet voice in my heart Michael told me to
,
and I know that brought me here, too. It’s hard to accept that I have a reason to be sitting where I am right now. Just one
thing more to add to a list of reasons my dad might want to kill me soon.

“Why?” h
e persists.

“Because I feel like it,
”
I snap.
I don’t mean to be rude, I’ve just been taken completely by surprise
with
the whole Michael-leaving-on-his-mission thing
,
and I don’t like it. I decide right now that I don’t like surprises
. They start with things like—
Surprise! You get to sleep with someone you’ve been crushing on for years
! But then they turn bad like—
Surpr
ise! You’re pregnant! And now—
Surprise! Michael will be gone before you have this baby!