Abigail clicked on the ad and was taken to a simple website with a place to enter her email and receive a free copy of the author’s bestselling book based on her adventures with sled dog racing. Abigail doubted there was an “adventurer in her,” as the ad claimed, but at the very least, this free book could help to pass time.
She entered her email and downloaded a copy to her computer.
Returning to Facebook, she spotted an ad for the local gynecological office asking her if she’d scheduled her yearly pap smear. It was creepy how much the social media site knew about her, and these very specific ads proved it. No, she hadn’t scheduled a pap smear lately, which she suspected Facebook already knew, but she did need to find a new doctor for her prenatal care. Other than taking her vitamins and trying to eat somewhat healthy, she’d done very little to take care of her baby.
Part of her was terrified she’d burst into tears and not be able to stop crying when she came face to face with the baby on the big ultrasound screen—without Owen there to hold her hand and experience the moment with her. But she’d already waited too long as it was. She needed to be a good mother to her child, no matter how hard it was on her heart.
Abigail held one hand over her pulsing chest and used the other to click into the doctor’s website. It was time to stop hiding from what needed to be done.
Chapter 13
Abigail
Later that day, Abigail’s father came home to tell her the children had named the puppies Brownie, Cookie, Cupcake, and Muffin—apparently, they had all been craving some rich desserts that morning. The names they’d picked were kind of cute, though, and surprisingly they did match the puppies quite well.
The white one with brown spots resembled a chocolate chip cookie. The mostly black puppy with a white stripe on its forehead could be a burnt brownie, she supposed, while the fawn colored dog reminded her of a banana nut muffin, leaving the one that most resembled its mother to be their Cupcake.
Ugh. It would be harder to give them up now that they had names. Of course, they might not have to ever say goodbye at the rate her search was going. She’d been approved to join a couple more groups and a few dozen people had reposted her pictures, but so far there were absolutely no leads.
She’d need to get the dogs into a vet soon. Maybe the staff there would have some ideas of where to search next. Heck, they might even recognize Mama Mary and know how to get in touch with her owner.
Abigail decided to make an appointment for the dogs once business hours started up again the next morning. Everything was slower because of the holidays, and that would continue for at least another week. She shuddered at the thought of ringing in a new year and thus ushering in her first full year as a widow. It would also be the year she welcomed her first—and probably only—child into the world.
There would be many more firsts on her own now that all her lasts with Owen were through. What a horrible epiphany!
The only lucky thing that happened all day was that the OBGYN’s website allowed her to book her appointment directly online. Miraculously, they even had an opening for the following morning, which she nabbed right up. If her calculations were right, she’d be able to discover the baby’s sex during her ultrasound tomorrow. This realization made her incredibly nervous. It would make everything that much more real, that much more imminent.
She chose not to mention the appointment to her father over dinner that night, knowing he’d insist on coming with her. Truth be told, she would rather face the doctor alone. After all, she’d need to get used to handling her parenting tasks solo—might as well start now.
She hardly caught a wink of sleep before waking up far too early the following morning. Mama Mary and her puppies continued to snuggle on the new fleece-lined dog bed she had purchased for them the day she’d run into Gavin who, by the way, hadn’t messaged her again since she’d brushed him off the day before.
It was for the best. Thank goodness.
She’d already foolishly allowed herself to wonder what her life would be like now, if the two of them hadn’t broken up back then, if she’d never fallen for Owen at all because she was still smitten with her high school sweetheart. This, of course, begged the question about whether it was better to have loved and lost…
Lately, she didn’t think it was.
If she’d never met Owen, then she wouldn’t be aching for him now. She wouldn’t be facing a life alone as a single mother living with her pastor father in the same house she’d grown up in.
Of course, she felt terrible for thinking like that. It was almost like throwing away her memories of him altogether. If it had been the other way around, if she’d died instead of him, what would his life be like now? Well, he wouldn’t be expecting a baby, for one. But would he mourn her or would he cry a little and move on?
Owen had always been the better person of the two of them, so no doubt he would choose the right response… whatever that was.
Abigail’s phone buzzed on her dresser with an appointment reminder. Once again, she’d let giant snatches of time pass without doing anything more than wallowing in her own misery. She really needed to cut that out… if only she could figure out how.
Struggling up from the bed, she pulled on her favorite pair of jeans. When the button dug into her growing belly, she unsnapped them and used the same ponytail holder trick she’d used in college when that wretched freshman fifteen had settled over her hips. A quick loop around the button and a bit of a tug transformed her too-tight jeans into makeshift maternity wear.
This was the beginning.
She wouldn’t be able to put off buying actual maternity clothes for too much longer, but maybe she could purchase them online and avoid having to go out to handle the dreaded task.
This made two outings in three days now, and she knew she’d need to help her father take the dogs into the vet that evening as well.
Just breathe. You’ve got this, she reminded herself.
After a quick splash of water on her face and a second ponytail holder to tie back her hair, Abigail took a series of deep breaths and headed out of the house.
Soon she would see her baby live on the big ultrasound screen. She’d even find out whether it would be a girl or a boy. That was a big deal, right? A huge deal!
So why wasn’t she excited?
Chapter 14
Abigail
Abigail held her breath as the ultrasound tech squeezed a line of cold gel onto her belly.
The tech hummed merrily as she slid the wand across Abigail’s distended abdomen. “Do you want to know what you’re having, or are we leaving it a secret until the big day?” she asked with the kind of smile that implied she absolutely loved her job.
“Sure,” Abigail answered, trying to match the other woman’s enthusiasm. This was her baby, after all. It was okay to get excited. It’s what she was supposed to be feeling.
The tech continued to make occasional small talk as she took and retook various measurements. Luckily, she didn’t ask about the father, a small miracle for which Abigail was extremely grateful. Instead, she said, “Your baby is measuring on the small side. Not small enough to be worried, but it explains why you’re not showing much yet. Have you felt the baby kick?”
“Not yet,” Abigail answered with a frown. Yes, a kick would definitely make her baby feel more real. So far she’d had a physically easy pregnancy and, for the most part, had kept her mind on Owen’s loss rather than bonding with the child. “Should I have?”
“Many women do by now, but it’s not uncommon for women undergoing their first pregnancy to feel the baby moving closer to twenty-six weeks. You’re at about twenty. Maybe nineteen.”
“What will it feel like? When the baby moves?” she asked, moving her eyes from the grainy image of her sleeping baby on the screen over to the other woman.
The tech gave a wistful smile as she continued to stare at the baby’s heart thumping on the black and white monitor. “Every mother describes it a little di
fferently. None of my girls were very rough and tumble on the inside or the out, so to me it felt something like bubbles popping or butterfly wings flapping.”
“Girls,” Abigail said, trying to feel something—maybe hope, maybe dread, just something—at the thought of having a daughter of her own. “Am I having a girl, too?”
The tech’s eyes widened and she dropped her voice conspiratorially. “Are you ready to find out?”
“Yes.” Abigail held her breath as she waited for the tech to reposition her wand. Suddenly she desperately needed to know what she was up against. Maybe decorating a nursery and shopping for an infant wardrobe would help her finally move on past her grief and begin to feel excited that she wouldn’t be the lone member of the Elliott-Sutton family any longer.
The tech snapped a picture of the screen and traced her cursor across the image to outline the baby’s private bits. “Congrats, Mama. You’re having a boy.”
Abigail closed her eyes to keep in the tears that had begun to form. She still didn’t know whether she felt happy about this news or saddened by it. The only thing she knew for sure is that she wished Owen were here to experience it with her. If she still believed in God, she could tell herself that her late husband was smiling down at her…
But she just couldn’t.
“Do you know what you’re going to name him?” the tech asked, moving the wand in slippery circles as she searched for the next spot to measure.
“Yes,” Abigail answered, surprising herself. This was one decision she didn’t need to deliberate over at all. She knew exactly what her little boy was meant to be called.
“Owen,” she whispered to the tech before saying it again louder, clearer. Owen.
Perhaps now the name would bring her joy. Perhaps now she could finally look forward instead of back.
“That’s a nice name,” the other woman said, not pressing for more. Somehow she just seemed to understand what Abigail needed from this exchange—and, even more importantly, what she didn’t.
When Abigail and Owen had first started dating, she’d looked up the meaning of his name on a parenting website. Now they had come full circle, it seemed. Owen was a Welsh name, she remembered, meaning “desire born.” But Abigail had never desired raising a child without his father. She had never desired becoming a widow in her twenties. Would new desires in life finally find her once this second Owen was born?
Owen, Jr. she thought, immediately deciding never to call her child that or the resulting nickname—OJ. She would teach her son how to be a strong man, a good and honest one. And if she had a hard time doing that on her own, she knew her own father would always be there to support him, to support them.
And she couldn’t think of a better man to serve as a role model for her son. After all, he had given up his whole world to make sure that hers had been magical growing up. Safe.
It wasn’t his fault that life had thrown her such an unfair curve ball. But was it really God’s, either? Her father had spent his entire life in pursuit of living a good life, of leading others to Jesus. He was the best man she knew. Could his beliefs really be fundamentally flawed?
…Or was it Abigail herself who was wrong? Damaged? Deeply flawed?
She looked again toward the monitor and watched as her son twisted into a new position, bringing his hands up to his mouth and eliciting a yelp of joy from the tech.
“Oh, look! Someone finally decided to join us. Hi, little guy,” she said with a smile that matched the one that had stretched across Abigail’s face, too.
“Hi, little Owen,” she whispered, wiping away the beginnings of fresh tears. “I’m your mama.”
Chapter 15
Pator Adam
I returned home from a morning meeting with the church elders to discover my only daughter had snuck off in my absence. Of course, almost immediately, I found myself wondering if she’d gone out with that Gavin fellow. And if that were the case, should I be grateful to him or suspicious of his motives?
Hmm, a tough question indeed.
A quick check on the puppies found all four content with full bellies. Mama Mary seemed to be well fed, too, so I left the five of them to whatever mid-day routine they’d established amongst themselves and continued my search of the rest of the house for my missing Abigail.
As I opened doors and flung back covers, I attempted a little bit of math in my head. Mind you, math had never been my strong suit, but desperate times, desperate measures and such.
Okay, I told myself. I found the puppies Thursday night. Abigail found Gavin Saturday morning. And now it was early Monday afternoon. By last count, I was still up five dogs, up one questionable ex-boyfriend, and down one daughter.
Hmmm, indeed.
Maybe a few more calculations would help me sort this out.
Numbers, numbers… Owen’s funeral had been about three months ago, which meant Abigail’s baby was about five months along. Meanwhile my wife had been missing approximately eighteen years and seven months, give or take a week.
I had no idea where this left me now. I hadn’t moved on relationally in close to two decades, but I had kept my head up and kept going on as if life were normal for my daughter’s sake. Was she ready to do the same for her child?
Also, my wife was still—presumably—out there somewhere very much alive. We knew Owen’s body rested peacefully six feet under while his soul enjoyed eternal paradise with His maker.
That made things different between Abigail and me.
But just how different, I found it difficult to quantify. If you divided my length of mourning by her length of mourning so far, carried the two, and multiplied by a factor of…
Nope, I surely had no idea how to solve for X when it came to this one. Or even what X represented, for that matter.
That was when my phone rang, zapping me straight out of my mathematical conundrum. The caller ID told me it was none other than my missing Abigail.
“Hello,” I answered with a smile that almost made it hurt to talk. I’m not sure whether I was happier to have found Abigail’s whereabouts or to be free of trying to calculate… whatever it was I had begun to calculate.
Her voice came out soft, so soft it was hard to hear over the thumping of my own heart.
“Speak up, dear,” I shouted into the phone, trying to lead by example. “Are you okay?”
“I’m perfect,” she said with that omnipresent sniffle of hers. Perfect was a word I hadn’t heard her utter since the days before Owen’s passing, which really made me wonder where she could be and why she was calling now. Luckily, I didn’t have to ask.
She rushed straight into sharing her news, informing me, “I’m having a boy.”
A boy. A boy!
I swear to you, more wonderful words have never been spoken, not before and not since. My baby girl was having a baby boy.
What really sent my heart spinning with happiness, though, was the pride in her voice as she made this announcement, the gratitude and love.
Soon Abigail would have a son, and I’d have my daughter back.
Plus, one very special grandchild to spoil rotten as only pappies, paw-paws, and gramps are welcome to do. I couldn’t wait for my turn to come.
Chapter 16
Abigail
A sudden burst of sadness overtook Abigail as the glass door to the doctor’s office swung shut behind her. It was there in that tiny office she had felt the first flickers of excitement about becoming a mother, there she had truly committed herself to doing whatever it took to give little Owen the best life possible.
And that started with healing his mother.
Despite her newfound determination, she had no idea where to begin with such a lofty task. There was so much she needed to fix, so many parts of herself she needed to find again. The challenge seemed practically insurmountable.
But she simply had to find a way, no matter how long it took.
Head down, she hurried down the corridor that led back to the parking lot.
Maybe she could start with setting up the nursery. She’d been out of work for a while now, but she also had a modest sum remaining from big Owen’s life insurance policy. If she was mostly frugal, with a few special splurge items here and there, she could craft something quite special for little Owen.
She just had to—
Oof!
“I’m so sorry,” she sputtered into the stranger’s chest. That’s what she got for not watching where she was going. “I didn’t mean to—”
Her voice fell away the moment she glanced up and spotted Dr. Gavin Holbrook smiling down at her with a bemused expression. “Fancy running into you here,” he said with a smirk.
“You said that last time,” she pointed out.
“And it’s even truer this time. Where are you headed in such a hurry?”
“The baby store,” she admitted. “I just found out I’m having a boy.”
“Well, congratulations!” he said with not the slightest indication that he felt anything other than immense happiness for her. “I’d say this calls for a celebration. I was just about to take my lunch break. Can you delay your shopping for—oh—I’d say an hour?”
She hesitated for a moment before remembering her resolution to be better for her baby. Friends were good and healthy. She needed this.
“Sure,” she said with a smile as she reached into her purse for her keys. It got easier each time she forced a smile. Maybe soon she wouldn’t have to fake it anymore. “But do you mind if I drive?”
Gavin sucked in a deep breath and leaned forward as if to reveal a secret. “Uh oh. Seems like someone still remembers what happened during driver’s ed sophomore year.”
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