That Was Then... (2 page)

I suppress the urge to point out that it makes perfect sense for the youth pastor to perform the wedding ceremony for two seventeen-year-old
youths
. How appropriate.

Finally it’s decided that Nat will get the creamy satin after all. And I will get the mossy green. She’ll be the tall white lily, and I’ll be the Little Green Sprout. “Although,” I think to myself, “she’s the one with the bulging pea in the pod.”

As we’re leaving the store and Natalie is gushing to Caitlin about how perfect everything is going to be and how much she appreciates her help and how great it will be to have Caitlin as her sister-in-law, I notice what I think is a shadow of doubt cross Caitlin’s countenance. I’m guessing that, despite her sweet nature and positive attitude, she’s still struggling with this marriage. Probably just as much as I am. After all, Ben is her little brother.
And although he has as much to do with Nat’s pregnancy as Nat does, Caitlin must be feeling somewhat protective of him.

And as I sit in the backseat listening to them, I can’t understand why one of the “adults” in either Ben or Natalie’s lives hasn’t put the brakes on this whole crazy thing. I mean, what are these people thinking? Even my dad is appalled by the craziness of it all. And it’s not like it’s his daughter getting married either. I seriously doubt he’d ever allow me to do something like this. Even if I were pregnant.

“Have you guys found a place to live yet?” I ask absently. Okay, maybe I do want to stir the pot just a little. Make Nat think a little further than just the big wedding day.

And I absolutely refuse to discuss the honeymoon with her, although she’s already informed me that they’ll probably stay in the mountains at a cabin that’s owned by friends of Ben’s family. She thinks it’ll be so romantic.

But I’m imagining this rustic, animal-infested shack with a smelly outhouse and no running water. Okay, I’m a terrible excuse for a friend. But it’s only because I love Nat, because I care about her future. And possibly because I’m a realist.

“Oh yeah, I meant to tell you. Josh’s mom knows an older couple who needs house sitters until next spring,” Caitlin says as she turns down the street where Nat and I live.

“Really?” Nat sounds hopeful.

“I think Josh gave Ben the number, and he’s going to talk to them.”

“That sounds good.” Then Nat gets quiet. “But that would mean we couldn’t really get settled…couldn’t have our own things.”

Okay, I’m wondering, what things? But I don’t say this. I mean, I know that Nat and Ben have registered at a couple of stores. But from what I’ve heard from Nat’s mom, the wedding’s going to be pretty small. Which reminds me, I wonder if being maid of honor means I’m supposed to plan a wedding shower or something to that effect. I lean back into the seat and let out a little groan. When will the madness end?

“You okay?” asks Nat.

“Just a little carsick,” I say, which isn’t entirely untrue. I’m in a car and I feel sick.

“Almost there,” says Caitlin.

Caitlin drops us off, and we both thank her. I make a mental note to call her later for some wedding shower advice. Sheesh, I’m only seventeen. I shouldn’t have to be doing all of this. Of course, as I walk into the house, I realize that Nat shouldn’t either. But it seems like she’s actually enjoying it.

I halfheartedly show Dad my dress, and although he says it’s pretty and that I’ll be a beautiful maid of honor, I can tell he’s not pleased.

“I know, I know,” I say as I lay the dress over the back of our new leather couch in the family room. Dad and I replaced a few things—in an effort to move on in
our grieving process over Mom. “Everything about this wedding feels all wrong to me too.”

“It seems like a hard way to start a life together…getting married because of a baby. I just don’t know…”

And suddenly I remember my grandma, Dad’s mom, and the surprising story she told me down in Florida last summer. I look at Dad and wonder if it’s the right time to tell him about this. But he’s replaced his reading glasses and is already opening his book again. Maybe some other time.

I carry my dress up to my room and hang it in the back of my closet so I don’t have to look at it every day and be reminded of how my best friend is ruining her life.

Then I do a double check on the things I’ve already laid out for school. Okay, it’s true, I’ve even picked out the outfit I plan to wear tomorrow. Although I reserve the right to change my mind if the weather cools down. Anyway, everything seems to be in good order. So I decide to check my e-mail and maybe answer a letter for my column. Since the e-mail is disappointing, I go with the latter, reading through about a dozen letters before I settle on this.

I just finished the first week of my senior year, and as far as academics go, I think it’s going to be easy breezy. I’ve already taken most of my requirements as well as several AP classes, and I could actually graduate early if I want. Not that I want to.

The only reason I’m even thinking about this is because that’s what Natalie plans to do. She met with the academic counselor this week. And her new plan is to finish high school before the baby comes. Fortunately, like me, she’s taken almost all of her requirements, and by taking a full load of classes this term, as well as one night class at the community college, she can be done by Christmas.

“Of course, I’ll come back and walk with my class for graduation,” she informed me at lunch the other
day. “But I think it’s better to do it like this.”

And while the selfish side of me wants to argue this point with her, I know she’s right. Unfortunately, the first week of her senior year has been anything
but
easy breezy. And despite the negative feelings I’ve harbored toward my best friend lately, I’m feeling really sorry about that and actually pretty defensive of her now.

Naturally the word’s leaking out. Okay, it’s more like a dam that has burst wide open. By the end of this week, the only people who don’t know about the pregnancy and upcoming marriage of Nat and Ben must be living under a stone. But the comments I’ve overheard and the looks I’ve observed—toward Nat, not Ben—have been nothing short of downright mean and cruel.

The weird and sad thing is how quickly our classmates put their own spin on this regrettable story. Acting like Nat got pregnant on purpose, like it’s her way to catch poor Benjamin O’Conner. Like Ben is some innocent, unsuspecting victim who got pulled into Natalie’s diabolical scheme. Give me a break!

It doesn’t help matters that Ben seems to be avoiding Nat. He told her he’s just trying to lay low until the news dies down. Poor Ben. I really do feel sorry for him too. Life as he knew it is pretty much over now. He doesn’t get to play sports this year, and although he acts like it’s no big deal, I know it’s got to hurt. He’s been such a jock in the past. Nat said he’s thinking about graduating early too, although he doesn’t have quite the academic record Nat
has and will need to take more community college classes.

To make matters worse, some kids are throwing Natalie’s religion in her face, making fun of her for messing up, even calling her a hypocrite. Some do it behind her back. Some to her face.

“I hate this school!” Nat slams the door of my Jeep. It’s Friday afternoon, and as usual, I’m giving her a ride home.

“Give them time,” I say. I want to tell her not to take it out on poor Daisy (my Jeep), but considering her mood I think better of this. “In a week or so, they’ll have something new to gossip about.”

“I can’t wait to get out of here,” she says as I pull out of the school parking lot. “For good.”

I don’t tell her that I’m feeling slightly abandoned by this announcement. Or remind her that when she leaves school, she’s leaving me too. Of course, I could easily graduate early myself. But I was actually hoping to finish this year in style. And it’s no secret that I have a chance at being valedictorian. Not that it’s such a big thing. But I do remember how Mom always thought I would get it. And I guess I’d like to do it for her. Graduating early would wipe out those chances.

“How’s Ben doing?” I ask, hoping to change the subject to something she likes better. But she just shrugs.

“Everything okay with you two?”

Again with the shrug. “We haven’t talked much lately.”

“I don’t mean to be intrusive,” I say, “but if you’re getting married in, what, like two weeks? Well, shouldn’t you two be talking?”

And then Nat bursts into tears.

Oh, great. I try not to be too distracted as I navigate my way through traffic. I mean, getting in a wreck won’t help matters. Finally I decide to stop at the mini mart and get us both a cold drink. I ask her what she wants and then go inside to get it, relieved to be away from her for a few minutes.

As I wait at the cash register, I try to figure out something to say to her. I mean, Nat knows that underneath my maid-of-honor good attitude (well, for the most part) I seriously question this marriage. But I also know that it’s not my life, not my decision. And I can’t exactly go out there and tell her she’s making a huge mistake. Still, I can’t help but think I should be willing to say
something
.

“Here’s your change,” the woman tells me.

I thank her and pick up the drinks, and as I walk back outside I silently pray. I ask God to give me words for Nat—whether they’re words of encouragement or warning, that they will be wrapped in love. I want to be willing to be used however God would use me.

“Here you go,” I say cheerfully as I hand her a drink.

“Thanks.” Nat gives me a wet-looking smile. “Sorry about that. I mean, losing it with you. I guess emotions can get a little whacked out when you’re pregnant.”

“No, it’s okay,” I say as I get in. “And you must be
under a lot of stress too. There’s a lot going on in your life.”

She nods and takes a sip. “You got that right. And hearing all the snide remarks at school this week, well, it doesn’t make things any easier.”

“Yeah, I know.” Okay, I’m trying to be understanding, trying to hear what God would have me say to my friend.

“And then there’s my mom…”

“What’s up there?”

“It’s like she’s going to be mad at me forever.” Nat sniffs. “I mean, she’s supposed to be a Christian, but honestly, I don’t feel much forgiveness from that woman.”

“Oh…”

And Nat goes on and on, finally settling on Ben. “He missed our premarriage counseling appointment with Pastor Tony last night.” She starts to cry again. “And he hasn’t talked to me all day.” She turns and looks at me. “Do you think he’s changed his mind?”

Okay, I’m sorry, but I start to feel a tiny bit hopeful just now. Although I try not to show it. “I don’t know…”

“What would I do, Kim?” Her eyes are wide with fear now. “If he backed out, I mean?
What would I do
?”

I consider my answer. “Well…you know that I happen to think adoption is a pretty good option for some children.”

I can tell she’s about to get mad at me, to overreact, but then it’s like she’s trying to control herself too. She
just slowly nods. “Yeah, it’s worked out okay for you.”

“Okay?” I echo. “I think it’s been great. I mean, consider the alternatives. I could’ve remained in an impoverished Korean orphanage. Or worse yet, what if my mother had kept me and what if she was a hooker and what if I’d been forced to grow up in some horrible—”

“I’m
not
a hooker, Kim.”

“That’s not what I mean. But seriously, Nat, how hard would it be to be a teen mom, barely finished with high school and trying to raise a baby and support yourself totally on your own?”

She looks down at her drink. “I know…”

Although I know it could get me in trouble, I decide to take the next step. “And it wasn’t that long ago that you wanted to get rid of the baby completely. Remember? But wouldn’t it be much braver of you, and much better for the baby, to allow some really good parents, people who have a good home and money and everything, to raise this child?”

I can tell she’s thinking about this, but she doesn’t say anything.

“I know that I’m really thankful
my
birth mother did that much for me. And my parents were thankful too.”

Now she sits up straighter, and I can see this look in her eyes, this look that’s slightly hard and cold and somewhat calculated. “Ben promised to marry me. He said he wants to be a father to our baby. He knows it’s the right thing to do.” She pushes her hair out of her
face. “And that’s what’s going to happen. Even if it looks bad and dark right now, I know God is going to work this out for good. I just need to have faith, Kim. And that’s what I plan to do.”