The Choice (9 page)

Sandy swallowed. She wanted to cave in but couldn't force the words out of her mouth.

“What if I let someone adopt the baby?” she asked hopefully. “My aunt in Atlanta has offered to let me stay with her until the baby is born and adopted out. Then we could get married.”

“I'm not going to put my life on hold for nine months while you're in Atlanta.”

“It's only seven months. I'm already eight weeks along.”

“It doesn't matter.” Brad frowned. “Once you have a kid, you're used up.”

Sandy stared at him in shock.

“Used up?” she asked.

Brad turned away. A horrible thought hit Sandy.

“Do you really want to marry me, or are you just trying to talk me into getting an abortion and then you'll dump me?”

Brad faced her.

“You're psycho,” he spat. “Get out of the car.”

“It was just a question.” Sandy felt panic rising up in her throat.

“And I'm not going to answer it. I don't have to put up with your stupid jealousy about Crystal and craziness about a baby. This pregnancy thing has turned you into a different girl, and I don't like her. If you're not going to go along with my plan, we're finished.”

Sandy didn't know what to say. Shaking, she put her hand on the door handle.

“If you change your mind, call me before you go to bed. If I don't hear from you, I'll rip up this sheet of paper, because it'll be over between us.”

Sandy drove home through a haze of tears. She dried her face with a tissue before she went inside the house, but when she glanced in the rearview mirror, she saw that her eyes were bloodshot. She quietly opened the front door and tiptoed toward the staircase.

“Sandy!” her mother's voice called out from the kitchen.

“I'm here!” Sandy said, her left foot on the first stair.

Her mother came into the foyer.

“How did it go at the nursing home?”

For a split second Sandy thought her mother knew about the meeting with Brad.

“Uh, I delivered the pie. Mrs. Belhaven was asleep, but I left her a note.”

“Why were you gone so long?”

Sandy turned her head slightly.

“You've been crying,” her mother said, concern coming into her voice. “What happened?”

Sandy plopped down on the second step of the stairs as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I saw Brad.”

She buried her face in her hands. Her mother joined her and put her right arm around Sandy's shoulders. Her mother left for a moment and returned with several tissues that she pressed into Sandy's hand.

“He says we're finished unless I get an abortion,” Sandy said, her chest still heaving. “Did you know they use a thing like a vacuum cleaner to—”

Sandy couldn't say the words. Her mother began to gently massage her upper back.

“He says he wants to marry me,” Sandy continued. “But he's not ready to be a father.”

“Do you think he's ready to be a husband?” her mother asked softly.

Sandy thought back to the conversation in the car. She'd felt bullied and belittled.

“No, and I don't think I'm ready to be a wife and mother either.”

She stared at the front door where Brad and his family had stormed out of the house.

“Brad said I was crazy. Maybe I am. But what he wanted us to do was crazy.” She turned toward her mother. “I couldn't make myself go along with him. I love him, but I don't trust him.”

“Then trust your heart.”

“I don't know what it's saying.”

“I think you do.”

Sandy shook her head, then remembered what had happened the previous night at the top of the stairs. Brad's words rang hollow compared to what she'd felt in that moment about the baby she was carrying. Every cell in her body rebelled against the idea of harming the life inside.

Her mother slipped from her seat on the stairs and knelt at Sandy's feet. She took Sandy's hands in hers. Tears pooled in her mother's eyes.

“Mama, don't,” Sandy protested.

“Sandy, we love you. And I've—”

“I know, I know—” Sandy tried to stop her.

“Let me finish. I've treasured every moment of your life from the time I first saw you as a tiny infant in the hospital to watching you run onto the football field as head cheerleader two weeks ago. I don't want you to leave our home. I'll miss you terribly. But sometimes love doesn't get what it wants; it has to do what's best.”

Her mother's words had a calming effect on Sandy.

“You really think I should stay with Linda and place the baby for adoption?” she asked.

Her mother put her fingers to Sandy's lips and shook her head.

“Don't say anything now. Wait until you're sure in your own heart.”

Later in her bedroom, Sandy stared at her pink phone and tried to visualize herself picking up the receiver to call Brad. Each time she played out a possible conversation, it ended with an argument. Suddenly, the phone rang. Sandy jumped. It continued to ring as she debated whether to answer. Finally, deciding she'd regret not finding out what Brad had to say, she picked up the receiver.

“Hey.”

“Sandy, it's Linda,” her aunt said in her crisp voice. “I hope it's all right to call your personal number. I know you like to use the phone in your bedroom for conversations with your friends.”

Sandy sat on the edge of the bed.

“No, it's fine. I've not been getting a lot of calls from my friends. I don't think they know what to say.”

“I understand. Well, I'm not ready to stamp a scarlet letter on your forehead, and if you decide to accept my invitation to live with me, you're not going to get any lectures about the mistakes you've made. I assume you've figured that out on your own.”

“Yes.”

“Good. That doesn't mean I'll pamper you either. I intend to treat you like an adult.”

“I don't feel like an adult.”

“You aren't, but we're going to start pretending that you are. Your grandmother taught your mother and me that adversity is the crucible for character formation. That's what I want to see happen in your life over the next few months.”

Sandy wasn't sure exactly what Linda meant. It sounded like a threat, but the words weren't spoken in a threatening way.

“Did Mama ask you to call me?”

“No, we haven't talked since yesterday morning.”

Sandy paused for a moment.

“Thanks for inviting me to stay with you,” she said. “It's very generous of you.”

“It was one of those things that can't be logically explained. I immediately knew I had to extend the offer. It's up to you and your parents whether to accept.”

“Mama is letting me decide.”

“Good. I know that's hard for her to do. Whatever you choose, I'm going to support you.”

When the phone call ended, Sandy slowly lowered the receiver into the cradle. Linda had always scared Sandy. Her father thought she was a busybody. But now, for the first time, Sandy saw how being around someone strong like her aunt might be good for her.

Sandy didn't call Brad. He didn't call her. Crawling into bed, she dreaded the return of the frantic anxiety that had harassed her the previous night. However, no night terrors assaulted her. She closed her eyes and woke up with the hazy rays of early morning light peeking through her window.

Within a few minutes, she was in the bathroom throwing up. When she finished, she went downstairs and told her mother and father that she wanted to go to Atlanta, the sooner the better.

“Are you sure?” her mother asked.

“Yes.” Sandy touched her heart. “It's the only thing I can think about that feels right in here.”

Her mother looked at her father and raised her eyebrows.

“Okay,” he replied, throwing his hands up in the air. “If she can survive seven months with Linda, she'll be able to handle anything life throws at her down the road.”

SEVEN

B
en wouldn't let Sandy carry the heavy suitcases downstairs from her bedroom. She watched as her brother wedged her third suitcase into the backseat of the car.

“Thanks, Ben,” she said.

Ben looked at the ground and didn't respond. Sandy's father and Jack came out of the house.

“Where's Mama?” Sandy asked.

“She went upstairs to make sure you didn't forget anything,” her father said.

“It's only a two-hour drive to Atlanta,” Sandy said. “And I'm planning on coming home most weekends. I can get anything I need the next time I'm here.”

Sandy's mother came out of the house carrying a blue dress Sandy had left in her closet on purpose. Sandy started to protest, but she kept quiet and let her mother lay the dress across the suitcases in the backseat of the car.

“You look nice in this. Wear it if Linda takes you out to dinner. She doesn't cook every night, you know.”

“Okay.”

“Are you sure you know how to get to her house?” her father asked for the second time.

“The directions you gave me are on the passenger seat, and I'll remember the landmarks.”

Her father checked his watch.

“You should get to Linda's house in about two and half hours. You're not going to stop along the way, are you?”

“No, except for gas and a bathroom break.”

“Do it before you get to Atlanta.”

No one spoke. They stood in a ragged circle in the driveway. A car passed on the street, and the driver honked the horn. It was Chip Cash, a boy who'd wanted to date Sandy about the time she'd fallen for Brad. If she'd gone out with Chip instead of Brad, maybe she wouldn't be getting in her car to leave for Atlanta.

She hadn't heard a word from Brad since the night in the nursing home parking lot. Jessica confirmed that Brad and Crystal were now an inseparable couple at school. The previous Saturday night they were seen snuggling in a booth at a local pizza restaurant. And Crystal proudly wore one of Brad's game-day jerseys to a big pep rally on Friday afternoon.

Sandy hugged Jack, who awkwardly pulled away after a couple of seconds. She turned to Ben, who wrapped his arms around her without reservation. She embraced her father, who patted her on the back. She then turned to her mother, who put her hands on either side of Sandy's face and looked into her eyes.

“You're going to get through this,” her mother said. “And someday you're going to have a family of your own.”

Sandy wanted to believe, but at that moment there wasn't room in her heart for a family other than the one standing in the driveway. Her mother kissed her on the forehead.

“Stay strong,” she said. “Take everything one day at a time. And remember, I love you.”

Sandy hugged her mother tightly, then planted a firm kiss on her left cheek.

“Thanks, Mama,” she said. “I love you too.”

Her mother wiped her eyes with the back of her right hand. Sandy got in the car, closed the door, and rolled down her window. As she backed down the driveway, the engine in the VW rattled like a giant sewing machine. Sandy waved one last time, then released the clutch and drove slowly away.