Anything but Normal (22 page)

“Dad, I’m really sorry to drag you through this,” Sophie said quietly from the backseat.

“It’s okay,” he said gruffly. “I’m a big guy, I can take it.”

As they got out of the car, he put an arm around Sophie’s shoulders and gave her a comforting squeeze. “I’m sure it’s not easy for you either.”

Sophie tried not to look too shocked at this unexpected show of affection. “Let’s just get it over with,” she told him. “In and out.”

He nodded. “Works for me.”

“You two coming?”

Sophie’s heart was beginning to pound as they entered the building. With each step toward the conference room where they were meeting, it pounded harder. Finally she had to stop in the hallway just to catch her breath.

“Are you okay?” Mom asked.

“I think I’m having a panic attack.” Sophie leaned over and clutched her middle. “Or else going into labor.”

“Just breathe,” Mom said.

“We should go home, Barb.” Dad’s voice softened. “Why should Sophie be tortured like this?”

Mom didn’t respond, and Sophie slowly stood up. “No, it’s okay. I’m okay. Let’s just do this and get out of here.”

But when they were seated across the long table from the Morrises, with Pastor Vincent at the head, Sophie was afraid she was about to lose her lunch. Her head knew that she was done with morning sickness, but her stomach wasn’t convinced.

“We all know why we’re here today,” Pastor Vincent began. “I’d like to start this meeting with a prayer.”

Dad grunted ever so slightly, but he at least bowed his head. Sophie was thankful for this moment. Not only for the prayer’s sake but also so she could gather her wits. She had barely glanced at Dylan when she came in and had been relieved to see that his head was hanging down. Was it possible that he was ashamed? She hoped so.

Pastor Vincent finished his prayer, then turned to the Morrises. “Let’s begin with this side of the table. Jeff, would you like to speak?”

Mr. Morris cleared his throat. “As head of this household, I would like to be the first one to offer my sincere apology.” He looked directly at Sophie’s dad. “I can’t even imagine how your family is suffering thanks to my son’s irresponsible behavior, and I am deeply sorry. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive him—and us—someday.”

Dad looked surprised but nodded.

“And Sophie.” Mr. Morris looked at her now. “I understand that you had made a purity pledge to God and that you had kept and had intended to keep that pledge. But I also understand that my son pressured you to break this promise . . . and I cannot even tell you how much that shames me. This is not how we raised our son.”

“That’s right,” Mrs. Morris chimed in. “We taught Dylan right from wrong. He grew up in the church. He knows what the Bible says. He had made a purity pledge too. But it’s harder for a young man. Girls pursue him relentlessly and—”

“Lynn,” her husband interrupted sternly. “Do not defend Dylan.”

“That’s right,” Pastor Vincent said. “Dylan has confessed to his sin. For you to rationalize or excuse his behavior will only set him back.”

“But he’s a good boy,” she protested.

“And Sophie is a good girl,” her dad shot back. “She’s an honor student. She’s the editor of her school paper. She’s never given us a moment of grief . . . until
this
.”

“That’s right,” her mom agreed. “She’s on the yearbook staff. She was probably going to get lots of academic scholarships for college. She’s been a good Christian and gone faithfully to church for years now.”

“Even though her parents are
heathens
,” Dad said.

“I am not a heathen,” Mom retorted.

“I think what we are saying,” Pastor Vincent interjected, “is that Sophie is a good girl who had her whole life ahead of her. But she made a mistake. And Dylan is a good guy who also made a mistake. In all fairness, Dylan instigated the mistake.”

“And his mistake is what got my daughter pregnant!” Dad slammed his fist on the table. “We can all sit here until the cows come home yapping about forgiveness and goodness, but it ain’t gonna change a flipping thing. My daughter will still be pregnant. Her life will still be ruined.” He pointed his finger at Dylan. “I hope you know, boy, that it’s taking every ounce of my self-control not to leap across this table and throttle you royally. And you just sit there in your preppy little sweater, with your fifty-buck haircut, acting like you’re not even here. Like you’re making plans about what you’re gonna do when you get back to your preppy little school. Maybe you’re going to knock up another poor girl.”

“Dad!”

He didn’t even look at Sophie. “What I want to know, young man, is
what do you have to say for yourself?
” His voice was so loud that Sophie figured everyone in the building could hear him.

Dylan looked up, and Sophie was surprised to see that he didn’t look anything like he’d looked last summer. Today he seemed scared and pale and sort of wimpy. “I—I’m sorry.”

“That’s it?” Dad shook his fist at him. “‘I’m sorry’? You think that’s going to fix everything? You think that’s going to give my daughter her life back? How would you like to be in her shoes, young man? How would you like to walk around with all your friends staring at your big fat pregnant belly?”

“Bud.” Mom put her hand on his arm. Not that he was paying any attention. His eyes were still fixed on Dylan, his anger aimed like a shotgun at Dylan’s head. Sophie almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“No, you don’t have to worry about that, now do you, boy? The guy gets off easy. Take what you want and then take off on your merry way. You have your fun and leave a big fat mess behind. And you expect the girl to clean up. Well, you may be a Christian, but my moral standard is a heck of a lot higher than yours!” Dad stood, his face red with rage. “Well,

I’ve had my say now. All I want is to get out of here.” He shoved the chair back so hard that it crashed into the wall. Then he turned and stomped out of the room.

“I’m going to go talk to him,” Mr. Morris said.

“No!” Mrs. Morris said. “He might kill you.”

Sophie’s mom actually laughed. “His bark is worse than his bite. Besides, if he was going to kill anyone, it would probably be your son.”

Now it was just Pastor Vincent, the moms, Dylan, and Sophie . . . and the room was silent.

“So, Dylan,” Pastor Vincent began, “do you have a response to that?”

Dylan looked down at the table.

“Dylan?” his mom persisted.

“I said I’m sorry. I really don’t see what more I can do.”

“I’ll tell you what you can do, son,” Sophie’s mom said in a firm tone. “You can look my daughter in the eye and say you’re sorry. And say it like you mean it, or don’t say it at all.”

Pastor Vincent nodded. “Good advice.”

Sophie watched as Dylan sat there staring at his hands on the table. Part of her wanted to run from the room. But another part of her, a stronger part, just sat there staring at him. Finally he looked up. “I’m sorry, Sophie.”

She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry too, Dylan.”

His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. Like he was off the hook.

“I’m sorry I ever met you,” she continued. “I’m sorry I fell for your lies. I’m sorry I let you talk me into something that I really didn’t want to do. I’m sorry I believed you when you told me I wouldn’t get pregnant. I’m sorry I trusted you to have adequate birth control. Mostly I’m sorry that I broke a promise to God.” Mrs. Morris pointed a finger at Sophie. “You make it sound as if you bear no responsibility in all of this. As if Dylan raped you. As if you’re the helpless victim.”

“Dylan didn’t rape me,” Sophie told her. “But I did tell him to stop the first time. I told him no, but he didn’t listen.”

“And the second time?” Mrs. Morris’s eyes were like drills. Sophie sighed, then looked directly at Dylan. “By then I knew I had broken my vow to God. I felt terrible, guilty, disappointed, dirty . . . but then Dylan would come along. He would smile at me. He’d take me in his arms. He’d kiss me and tell me that everything was fine and that he loved me. I’d never felt like that before. And I believed him. I guess I rationalized that since I’d already blown it, since I’d broken my vow to God, I might as well accept Dylan’s love. Of course, I was wrong about that too. Dylan never loved me.”

Dylan pressed his lips together and looked down at his hands again.

“So what did you expect?” Mrs. Morris asked Sophie. “Did you think if you got pregnant, Dylan would marry you?”

“Mom!” Dylan turned and glared at his mother.

“Some girls are like that,” she said coolly.

“My daughter is
not
like that.” Mom’s voice was controlled but laced with anger. “My daughter is intelligent and motivated and not the kind of girl who would trap any boy into marrying her.”

“I concur,” Pastor Vincent said. “That was uncalled for, Lynn.”

Sophie’s mom reached over and took her hand. “If that’s all you two have to say, I think Sophie and I will be on our way.” She turned and smiled at Pastor Vincent. “Thank you for arranging this meeting.”

As they drove home, Sophie’s dad seemed in surprisingly good spirits. “You know, Mr. Morris is a stand-up kind of guy. Too bad his son isn’t more like him.”

“I think Dylan takes after his mom,” Mom said a bit harshly. “Well, Mr. Morris assured me that he will cover all of Sophie’s pregnancy expenses, and he even recommended an adoption attorney.”

“But Sophie hasn’t made that decision yet,” Mom protested. Naturally this resulted in another argument. Dad felt certain the baby would be better off in a “good home with two mature parents,” and Mom wasn’t sure she wanted to see her grandchild “given away.” Thankfully their disagreement wasn’t quite as heated as others had been.

Sophie couldn’t help but feel slightly proud of her parents as Dad drove home. Sure, they were a little rough around the edges, but they were good people. And they had stood up for her.

21

When school regrouped in January, Sophie went directly to the pregnancy center, where Mrs. Manchester seemed ready for her. “Leah told us your secret, Sophie.”

“So I heard.”

Mrs. Manchester smiled. “But isn’t it better having it out in the open?”

Sophie shrugged. “In some ways. But it’s hard being around my friends. The way they look at me and treat me.”

“Believe it or not, they’ll get used to it. Oh, things will never go back to normal, but before long, they’ll have other things to distract them from you.”

“So what are my options here?”

“That depends on you, Sophie. What do you want?”

“To hide out until the baby comes.”

“That surprises me.”

“Huh?”

“You seem like such a strong person. I had thought you might like to continue with your regular classes and activities. You were doing an excellent job on the school paper.”

“But I’m not sure that I can . . . I mean, in my condition.” “You’re pregnant, Sophie, not terminal.”

“I know, but . . . like, Mr. Young—I know he’s disappointed in me.”

“That’s life. Everyone makes mistakes. Sometimes our mistakes make us bigger people.”

Sophie patted her belly. “You can say that again.”

Mrs. Manchester laughed. “Well, you’ll have to decide what’s best for you. But I hope you won’t just assume it’s to hide out, as you say. I’ll admit that’s best for some girls. But some are strong enough to continue with their lives. Of course, we’ll offer you counseling and childbirth classes, and if you’re considering keeping your baby, we offer child development classes and child care.” She peered at Sophie. “Have you made that decision yet?”

Sophie shook her head. “Not completely. But I think adoption is the best option for me.”

“You’re the only one who can make that decision.”

“So many decisions.” Sophie sighed. “Do you think it would be okay if I hung out at the pregnancy center today, just for the day? To see how it feels, you know?”

“That’s an excellent idea.”

So Sophie was “one of the pregnant girls.” At first there was some disbelief that she was actually pregnant. Some had assumed Leah was lying. But Sophie let them know it was the real deal, and she put them at ease using humor. Even Natasha seemed pleased to have Sophie in their group.

Sophie explained the reason behind her overly personal questions last month. “I never even wrote that follow-up article,” she confessed. Although a part of her was ready to write it now. She knew just the angle she would take too. A personal experience story—true confessions of a pregnant honor student.

By afternoon, Sophie was bored with the pregnancy center. She wondered if she really belonged there—at least full-time. She decided to go speak to Mr. Young. She knew his planning period was sixth hour, so she waited until then and went and tapped on his office door.

“Hey, Sophie,” he said with a smile. “I missed you in class today.”

“I was hanging at the pregnancy center.”

“That’s what Wes said.” He waved her to the chair across from his desk. “Sit down.”

“Thanks.” She sat down and folded her hands in her lap. “I wanted to try it out—the pregnancy center—to see how I fit in.”

“How was it?”

“Okay. I mean, the girls are nice. But it was kind of boring too.”

He nodded with a knowing smile. “Are you considering returning to your regular classes?”

She nodded. “It’ll be embarrassing for a while. But I can probably get used to it.”

“Wes told me that you were considering stepping down from your chief editor position and yearbook. Is that true?”

“I figured you’d want me to step down.”

“Me?” He looked shocked. “Why?”

“It seems pretty obvious.”

“Do you think being pregnant will impair your work?”

“I don’t think so.”

“And you were pregnant in the fall, right?”

She nodded.

“If anything, I think it made you a better journalist, Sophie. You were able to see more sides of a story.”

“Yeah, pregnancy kind of does that to you. I guess it’s the humiliation factor.”

He smiled. “So, as far as I’m concerned, you’re still chief editor. And you’re welcome in any of my journalism classes. In fact, I wanted to ask you to be my AA next semester.”