“You think I’ve planned this—set all this up—to make Mom have trouble with her pregnancy?” I said, my words pouring out with a vengeance. “Is that what you think?”
He looked at me with bewildered eyes, standing there silently.
“You know me better than that!” I shouted. And with that, I flew out of the room and up the stairs.
EIGHT IS ENOUGH
Chapter 16
The next week was a blur of gloom. At least for me. Everyone else in the house seemed to be involved in some baby activity or another.
An unspoken wall of tension remained between Uncle Jack and me. Mom kept to herself, however. I was beginning to wonder if she’d ever get used to the fact that I wanted to split my time between her and Daddy. Usually, Mom took things in stride. But when it came to heart matters such as these, I guess Mom simply couldn’t pull herself out of the doldrums.
I didn’t get around to calling the attorney’s office back. The way I saw it, if Daddy was actually willing to consider the possibility, I’d rather use his private family attorney than have the state appoint one for me here. As for proceeding with the legal side of things, I wasn’t sure what I was waiting for. Maybe the fact that everyone had insisted I pray about it. Maybe that was what was holding me back.
But I hadn’t obeyed. All week I avoided the prayer issue, even neglected my personal devotions. Deep within myself, I recognized my problem. I was stubborn and unwilling to let God work in me. I wanted things my way or not at all. Yet I was too headstrong to change my course.
Carrie was the one who got me charged up about things again. I was cleaning my room after school when she knocked on my door.
“Hi,” she said, wide-eyed. Her hair was in a long ponytail; the way I used to wear mine. “I heard you want outta here.”
“Oh, really?” So Mom had finally gotten around to informing the rest of the family. I closed the door behind her, allowing Carrie into my private domain.
“I think it stinks,” she said, and before I could comment, she began to cry.
“Carrie, what’s wrong?” I went over to where she stood in front of my dresser, burying her head in her hands. Stunned, I wrapped my arms around her. “It’s okay, you don’t have to cry.”
But cry she did. Not just a little, either. Heartbreaking sobs poured from her. “Don’t leave, Holly . . . please, don’t go away. . . .”
I felt my own eyes watering—that’s how incredibly crushed Carrie sounded. Waiting for her to calm down, I finally spoke. “I hope you don’t think I want to go away because of you.” The thought had occurred to me while she was bawling. I didn’t want Carrie to think that I was abandoning her just because she was turning into a snooty little so-and-so.
“Mom said you need some space—to get away from here for a while,” she blubbered. “I don’t see what’s so bad about living here.”
I tried to explain. “It’s not just the space. It’s other things, too.”
She looked up at me suddenly, her tearful eyes demanding answers. “Like what other things? What could possibly be so awful about living here?”
“I didn’t say it was awful.”
“You know how much Mom . . . how much I love you.”
“And I love you, too.” I hugged her.
“But just not Mom, is that it?”
“Of course not, silly. That’s not it at all.” I was groping for words. Everything I wanted to say to her sounded trite inside my head.
“Then is it about the baby?” she asked, wiping her eyes.
I waited a few seconds before responding. “Yes, the baby’s a big problem for me.”
She didn’t understand. I knew by the incredulous look on her face. “How can you say that?”
I shook my head. It was no use. “I can’t explain it.”
“You’re jealous, then, that must be it.”
I hated her for saying that. Everyone was saying it. Even Andie. “Why should I be jealous of an unborn baby, for pete’s sake?”
She stared at me, determination in her eyes. “It’s written all over your face.”
I chuckled. “You’re sounding more like Mom every day.”
“So that’s it, huh? You have nothing to say for yourself.”
At that moment, I wanted to escort her—no, I wanted to throw her out of my room. The haughty little brat! “I don’t need a lecture from you.” I went to the door and opened it wide.
“Someone should talk sense into you. You’re making our mother sick, Holly. Why don’t you think about someone else besides yourself for a change?” In a huff, she bounced out of the room.
It was impossible to work on my novella that night. Algebra came first, of course, and later, I attempted to add another chapter to my book. Nothing came. The words were scrambled up in my brain, so how could I expect to sort them out on paper?
Along about ten o’clock, I gave up and went to bed. My sleep was erratic and filled with weird dreams. Even Goofey was restless and finally left his cozy spot on my bed for the peaceful solitude of the window seat.
The next morning I felt lousy when the shrill sound of the alarm awakened me. I stumbled into the bathroom and reached for the shower knobs, hoping the warm water would soothe my tired body and spirit.
While I let the water run against my back, I thought of Kayla’s questions about Stan—a mild relief from the true frustrations of my life. What could I do to tactfully inform my brousin of Kayla’s ongoing crush? Why were guys so dense, anyway?
One thing led to another, and soon I was mulling over Jared Wilkins. Again. Why did it seem I never quite got the guy out of my head? I mean, once my birthday passed, I was as good as Sean’s girlfriend.
These days, I could honestly say I never thought about Jared in that same way. If what Amy-Liz had told me months ago was true—that she broke up with him because he couldn’t stop talking about me—well, that was hard to believe. Even if that really was the reason, I had a hard time bringing myself to consider Jared as more than just a good friend. Funny thing, we were that—good friends. In fact, probably closer friends, at least at the present time, than when he and I both liked each other. Amazing, but true.
What would Sean think if he knew I was thinking about Jared this way? What would my future husband, whoever he was, think if he knew how emotionally caught up I was in both Jared and Sean?
I couldn’t determine how, or from what submerged brain cells the idea came, but suddenly the disturbing notion was there—certainly uninvited, perfectly crazy.
Sean Hamilton wanted to end our friendship—that’s why he’d written the letter. Could it be true—was my intuition correct? Was his excuse about the Power House group not being able to come to ski merely a convenient way for Sean to say good-bye?
Briskly, I dried off, anxious to reread his letter. But by doing so, I felt only more rejected, reading things between the lines that may or may not have really been there. I was more frustrated than ever and fussed over my hair for no reason. It was easy to manage now that the too-frizzy spiral perm had finally relaxed. Except for the shorter length, I actually liked my hair. Sean had written that he liked it, too, after receiving a recent photo from me. He’d gone on and on about how pretty I looked.
But even better, you’re pretty on the inside, which is far more important to me. He’d written that, and I’d believed him. But now? Now he wasn’t coming to Dressel Hills at all and was making no effort to reschedule another time. What did he expect me to think?
Mom didn’t show up for breakfast, so we kids did our fending routine and managed just fine. Basically, Stan and I saw to it that everyone bowed their heads for prayer and ate a well-rounded breakfast before heading off to our separate schools.
I couldn’t help thinking about the playpen or high chair soon to be making its appearance in the kitchen. Babies didn’t stay little long. They grew up rapidly, threw applesauce and oatmeal all over the floor, and made big messes.
When breakfast and cleanup were over, I hurri
ed to the bus stop, eager to see my school friends. All of them—Jared included.
EIGHT IS ENOUGH
Chapter 17
Jared was as charming as ever when he stopped by my locker before lunch. He wore a shirt that brought out the blue in his eyes. And, for a change, I actually listened as he told two jokes, one right after the other.
“You’re in rare form today,” I commented as we walked toward the school cafeteria.
“Hey, I like what I’m hearing.” He turned to look at me with a smile.
I refused to allow things to get out of hand between us. That’s why I headed straight for the table where Andie, the Miller twins, and I usually sat at lunchtime. I had to be careful. It wouldn’t be fair to soak up Jared’s obvious interest just to divert my own thoughts and change my mood. I wouldn’t use him that way.
“What’s the latest about living in California?” Andie asked as she, Paula, and Kayla converged on us.
“I’m waiting to make my decision,” I stated.
Paula smiled. “Waiting till after your mom has her baby?”
“Not that long,” I replied, not telling her that I’d been advised to pray about my choice. But I still hadn’t.
“What will be the determining factor?” Kayla asked.
I glanced around at each of them, feeling suddenly overwhelmed with their presence. “Can we drop this for now?” I gave them a weak smile. “I have a lot to think about.”
Jared was first to agree. “Yeah, let’s give Holly some breathing room.”
Andie caught my eye and gave her wordless warning. I knew she didn’t want me going soft on Jared.
Then he brought up the subject of a Valentine ski party. “Pastor Rob’s been talking a lot about it. What do you guys think?”
I held my breath as Andie jumped in on the conversation. She didn’t know—no one knew—about Sean’s letter or that he’d canceled his trip.
“Well, Holly’s guy friend is coming from California with a bunch of middle-school kids. What do you say we include them?” Andie said.
“Fine with me.” Paula studied me with a question mark in her eyes, probably wondering why I didn’t respond.
“That’s cool,” Jared said, but his expression gave him away. He didn’t really think Sean’s coming was cool at all.
“Great!” Andie continued. “What do you think, Holly-Heart?” She looked right at me.
“Maybe next year.” I decided to level with them. “Sean and his youth group are going to San Diego instead.”
Andie gasped. “No,” she cried. “Oh, Holly.” She reached over and grabbed my hand. “You must be totally devastated.”
I forced a smile. “Not exactly.”
“Yes, you are,” she insisted. I knew it was all a show for Jared’s sake.
“Really, it’s okay.” I pleaded with my eyes for her to drop the subject. But she kept it up. That is, until I picked up my tray and left the table.
I wasn’t surprised; Jared got up, too, following close behind as I headed for the kitchen to return my tray. “Are you okay with this . . . this cancellation?” he asked.
He’s fishing, I thought.
“There’ll be other times,” I said.
Andie was headed our way, plowing through a group of students, frantically trying to get to me. I don’t know why she didn’t trust me. Didn’t she know I wouldn’t fall for Jared’s sweet talk just because Sean wasn’t coming?
“Oh, Holly,” she called, displaying a desperate look. “Walk with me to my locker.” She completely ignored Jared, who stood beside me. “Come on!”
“Excuse me,” I called to Jared over my shoulder.
“See you after school,” I heard him say as we hurried down the hall.
“What’re you doing, Andie?” I demanded. “I can take care of myself.”
Andie snorted. “Didn’t look like it to me.”
We were coming up on her locker. A group of upperclassmen were hanging out nearby. Three of them glanced at us as though we were slime. What else was new? This was high school, after all.
“Smile!” Andie called to them, only to receive the cold shoulder and some loud, disparaging howls of laughter. At times like this, I wished I were homeschooled.
Not Andie. She loved social challenges. “C’mon, you can force a smile for us lowly freshmen,” she shot back.
“Andie, please,” I whispered. “Cut it out.” This time I was the one grabbing her arm and hauling her away to my locker.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Saving you from yourself.” I kept going, dragging her along.
Reluctantly, she followed me to my locker. I made her hold my books while I searched in my purse for Sean’s letter. “Here,” I said, finding it. “Read this and tell me what you think.” I pushed the letter into her face.
“I can’t read it that close,” she complained, piled up with my books.
I stepped back, still holding the letter as she began to scan it. “So . . . what do you think?”
She shrugged. “About what? He’s not coming; it’s that simple.’
“But . . . do you think he’s really hoping to avoid me?”
Andie frowned and shook her head. “I don’t get that from reading this, why?”
I sighed. “Once more—read it again.”
She did. “Nope. It’s not curtains for Sean Hamilton.”
“You’re absolutely positive?”
“What are you worried about, Holly?”
“Just a feeling I have.”
“Well, your feeling’s wrong.” She handed back my books. “Did you write him back?”
“Not yet.”
“You’ll be getting another letter from him. You’ll see.”
Going on Andie’s instincts, I felt okay about answering Sean’s letter, which I did during French class. Most of the class was studying for a test scheduled for tomorrow. I figured I could review my dialogues that night. Easy.
Surprisingly, I felt better once the letter was written. Not because I’d written in an upbeat manner, but because my best friend thought I was mistaken about why Sean wasn’t coming. To tell the truth, hoping she was right was one less burden to carry around. The mental and emotional load was still weighing me down. And now I had another burden to add: Mom’s ultrasound results. Also scheduled for tomorrow.
Tomorrow, on the first day of February—the beginning of my birthday month—the doctor would probably be able to determine whether Mom’s baby was a boy or a girl. On top of that, if the ultrasound pictures were clear, Uncle Jack was going to play a video of it for the family. Like he thought we were actually interested.
Personally, I couldn’t imagine spending tomorrow evening viewing such a thing—an unborn baby floating around inside my mother’s stomach. The very same baby who was upsetting my entire life!
EIGHT IS ENOUGH
Chapter 18
After school that day, both Andie and Jared were waiting at my locker. Andie’s scowl gave her away—she wasn’t thrilled that he’d shown up again. She totally dominated the conversation. In fact, there was no time for Jared to say what was on his mind before we had to leave to catch the bus.
“Okay if I call you?” Jared asked as the three of us headed down the hall.
“Of course,” I said, smiling. “I’ll look forward to it.”
Andie looked like she nearly died on the spot, but she was polite enough not to make a rude remark. Jared said good-bye to both of us and hurried off in the opposite direction to the library.
“About Jared,” Andie said as she and I waited at the bus stop. “You’re leading him on.”
“I’m only being polite,” I assured her. “There’s nothing to worry about.”
“C’mon, you know what’ll happen.”
“What? What can happen if I don’t want to go out with him?”
She was silent. But only for a few seconds. “So . . . are you really going to push for the custody thing?”
“It’s the
best thing in the world for me.”
“For you? Since when does your family’s life revolve around one person?” She’d launched off on one of her pet peeves. “Families are a community effort—they’re forever, and don’t you forget it.”
“I didn’t say they weren’t, but if I remember correctly, we’ve already had this conversation. If you don’t mind, could we please just drop it?” I’d had it with her know-it-all attitude.
“Well, excu-use me. If I can’t talk sense to you, Holly, who can?”
I kept my mouth shut even though I knew she was baiting me. The atmosphere was heavy with conflict, ripe for a fight. Besides that, Andie’s biggest hang-up lately was irrational worry over the future. In other words, what would happen to us—our friendship, our close bond—after high school, college, and beyond? The question had plagued both of us in recent months.
“So . . . aren’t we talking now?” she asked.
“I see the bus.” That’s all I could say without getting into a word war.
“Okay, fine. No more talk of California or joint custody,” she volunteered. “I promise.”
“And what about Jared?”
She shook her head. “Do whatever you want about him.”
“Really?” I said, elated. “Did I hear you correctly? You’re actually giving me permission to live my life without consulting you every five minutes?”
Andie ignored my ranting and boarded the bus.
Case closed. At last!
I couldn’t wait to get back to Tricia’s Secret Journey. But first I worked through my French homework on the bus.
Back home, Carrie and Stephie had already claimed the dining room table, spreading their homework every which way. Phil was using the kitchen island for his space. Mark was outside playing in the snow, and Stan still wasn’t home from school. As best as I could calculate, Stan had ten more minutes before he should be calling home. The after-school calling rule remained in force. Even for male sophomores.
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