A harsh laugh alerted Cordelia to a knot of kids up ahead by a stand of lockers. She knew it meant trouble even before she identified one of the kids as Corey Bohan, a notorious bully who, unlike a lot of male bullies, was usually smart enough not to get caught. “Not this time,” Cordelia muttered under her breath as she strode toward the group.
As she grew closer, she saw the object of Corey’s unwanted attentions, a freshman named Martin something or other. Poor kid, Cordelia thought. He had bully magnet written all over him, from his too skinny arms to his bad haircut (clearly his mom or dad had done it), from his mouth full of braces to his too short pants.
“Hey, Martin!” she said loudly, causing both Martin and his would-be tormentor to jump. “I was looking for you. I need help with my laptop. Do you have some time to look at it now?”
Martin smiled gratefully and nodded. Corey (and really, Cordelia thought, he could use a better haircut, too, not to mention a shower) glared at her for a moment, and then abruptly walked off. His cohorts trailed behind him, muttering empty threats. Idiot, Cordelia thought. She would bet money that Corey would be spending his adult life stuck in some minimum wage job he would barely be smart enough to keep.
“Great,” she said to Martin. “Let’s go.”
Cordelia led Martin toward the library. Fact was she really did need some IT help, but even if she hadn’t, she would have lied to get Martin safely out of a bad situation. Her father had talked about something called “moral proximity” one night at dinner, and it had really struck a chord. It was the idea that when you were faced with someone in need of help, you had a moral obligation to help them simply because you were there and a witness to the situation. Well, her father had put it more eloquently, but Cordelia didn’t need to talk about it, just to put the idea into action. She hoped that if someday she were witness to something really horrific, like what those people at the Boston Marathon had experienced, seeing people blown apart just feet away, she would have the courage to act.
Martin worked his magic on Cordelia’s computer and left the library blushing with the pleasure of an accomplishment recognized and valued. Cordelia followed soon after and headed for her final class of the day. Along the way, she kept her eye out for her father.
She hardly ever saw him during the day, but on occasion they would catch each other’s eyes across a crowded hallway. Seeing him always made Cordelia smile. Her father was a great guy; even the kids who regularly got in trouble thought so. Well, if they thought otherwise, they weren’t telling her, but Cordelia knew that his methods of correction (he didn’t like the word punishment) were fair and most often they worked.
Cordelia stopped outside the door to geometry class. It most definitely was not her favorite subject. Still, there were only four and a half months left of school and then no more sine and cosine and problematic angles and complicated formulas. Sure, she would probably have to work at The Busy Bee during the summer, but not every day. There were far worse places to work, but she kind of enjoyed grumbling about it anyway. Her mom knew she was only kidding around.
And then, senior year would begin, and it would be so much fun. She and Sarah had been looking forward to it since the start of junior year. Well, it was mostly Cordelia who had been psyched about the parties and the prom and the overnight trip the class would take to Augusta. Sarah was much more subdued a person. She was the sort who calmly took each day as it came, although she was also the sort to plan ahead and to always have a few Band-Aids in her backpack “just in case.” In short, of the two, Sarah was the more mature one; everybody could see that.
“And now I’ve got to be mature,” Cordelia murmured, “and go inside!”
Cordelia survived the class, as she knew of course that she would, and left the building with a spring in her step. Wow, she thought. Look at that! The sun was actually shining through the gray cloud cover. Okay, it wasn’t as if you could feel its warmth, but there it was, if you looked hard enough. Summer was still a very long way off, but nevertheless, Cordelia’s spirits lifted. Better times were coming, and by better, she meant warmer and brighter weather and some awesome new clothes to go with it.
“Hey, Cordelia!”
“Hi, Thomas!”
Cordelia waved and headed toward the waiting bus.
Chapter 14
Cindy and Joe and Sarah were in the kitchen, seated around the table. Stevie had gone to a friend’s house after dinner to watch a movie. It was only six thirty, but it had been dark since four. The house felt very quiet.
Sarah noted that her parents looked tired. Her mom had been at the quilt shop most of the day, cleaning for the reopening. Her dad never took a day off, unless he was really sick, and as far as Sarah could remember that had happened only once. He had even gone back to work hours after he had broken his wrist a few years back.
She took a steadying breath. This was the hardest thing she would ever have to do. By comparison, telling Justin that she was pregnant had been a breeze. And that was because she truly loved her parents. She respected them. She cared what they thought of her, far more than she cared what Justin thought of her. What Justin had thought of her, once upon a time.
Her mother spoke. “You said you wanted to tell us something.”
“Yes.” Sarah squeezed her hands together in her lap. She looked at her mother; she couldn’t bear to look at her father. “I’m going to have a baby,” she said.
Neither parent said anything. There was a dull and uncomprehending look on her mother’s face. At least, that’s how Sarah read her expression. She still couldn’t look at her father.
“I mean,” she went on, “that I’m pregnant.”
Her mother twitched, as if a switch had been thrown, bringing her back to life. “I know what you mean,” she snapped. Then she slumped a bit in her chair. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have . . . oh, God, Sarah, are you sure?”
Sarah nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I took a test.”
Her mother leaned forward. “A test? Only one? So that means—”
“No. I mean, I know. I’m sure. I just am.”
For what seemed like an eternity, no one moved or said a word. Finally, Sarah’s father shifted in his chair and her mother put her hand to her chest as if to calm the beating of her heart.
Sarah felt tears spring to her eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she cried. “I don’t know what else to say. Except, please, please forgive me.”
“Now, enough of that,” her father said, in what Sarah thought was a remarkably even tone. She glanced quickly at him, and he gave her the ghost of a smile.
“Is the . . . is Justin the father?” her mother asked.
Sarah nodded. “Yes. I told him a few days ago.”
“And? What did he say?”
“He offered to marry me.”
“Oh, Lord!”
“Don’t worry, Mom,” Sarah said hastily. “I said no. I knew he really didn’t mean it. And I don’t want to be married to him, either. And he offered to help pay for an abortion, but I told him I was going to have the baby.”
Sarah glanced again at her father. His lips were now compressed into a fine thin line.
“Where do you stand with him now?” her mother asked.
Sarah looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. “Nowhere, I guess. We’re not together, if that’s what you mean.”
“So he’s walking away?”
Her father’s voice was tight now. Sarah was surprised he hadn’t burst out with a violent stream of abuse against Justin. Not that she had ever seen her father lose his temper, not even when another driver cut him off or when a client cheated him out of part of his fee. But this was something far worse.
“He said he would be there for me.” Sarah winced at the lie. That wasn’t what he had said, not really.
“What does that mean, exactly?” her mother asked.
“I don’t know.” But that’s a lie, too, Sarah thought. She knew very well what it meant.
There was another ter
ribly uncomfortable silence until finally, her father spoke. “Well, that’s that,” he said. “Cindy, you get Sarah to a doctor. We’ve got a lot of planning to do, what with a new baby coming along.”
He got up from his seat and leaned down to hug Sarah where she sat hunched beside him. Then he squeezed his wife’s shoulder and left the kitchen.
The worst, Sarah thought, as a shudder of relief ran through her, is over.
Or else, it had only just begun.
Chapter 15
How in heaven’s name did a person accumulate so much stuff? Adelaide sighed and tapped the stack of papers that would go into the recycling bin. Even though she straightened her desk several times a week, there always seemed to be a handful of unwanted and unnecessary—well, garbage.
But this advertisement for a college loan program could stay. She and Jack had been saving since Cordelia was born, but there was never any harm in reevaluating their game plan. Adelaide hoped that the Bauers were being as proactive as she and Jack were with Sarah’s education fund. But it wasn’t something she could ask without sounding as if she were criticizing.
Anyway, figuring out how to fund a college education sometimes felt like learning an exotic and very slippery language. Adelaide doubted anyone could really tell what would happen. Sarah, for example, had the better grades, though Cordelia, with her involvement with the school newspaper (she wrote the weekly social column) and her participation in the Teens and Elders program (once every two weeks a group of kids were bused to a local home for seniors where they read to the residents or played cards or simply talked), might be considered more well-rounded and might therefore be more eligible for scholarships. Cordelia’s family had more money than Sarah’s; Sarah might be considered more eligible for financial aid. But who knew? They would just have to wait and see which girl was awarded what opportunities. One thing is certain, Adelaide thought with a smile. Neither girl is ever going to get an athletic scholarship!
Adelaide looked at the framed photo of the girls on the shelf over her desk. Next to it sat a photo of Cindy and Adelaide at The Busy Bee, on the occasion of the store’s fifth anniversary. Hmmm, Adelaide thought. Maybe the four of them—or the five of them if Stevie were interested—could take a girls’ excursion before the summer season hit hard, and Adelaide and Cindy would be glued to the shop. Just a day trip, maybe to the Farnsworth Art Museum or to the Winslow Homer Studio in Prouts Neck, or even just up to Portland. They could easily spend a full day in the city, visiting the museum, shopping, taking a tour of the Longfellow House, and having lunch somewhere fun. There was a good French-style bistro she had read about, though it might be a bit too pricey for Cindy and her girls. Well, Adelaide thought, there is nothing wrong with fish and chips!
The thought of fish (if not chips) brought to mind Sarah’s boyfriend, Justin. He hadn’t gone to college. In fact, to hear Cordelia talk, he had barely graduated high school. There was certainly no love lost between Cordelia and Justin Morrow. She called him the Idiot.
“Now, Cordelia. Why would Sarah go out with an idiot?” Adelaide remembered asking.
Cordelia had just shrugged. “Don’t ask me. But she is.”
True, the relationship was a bit curious, but Sarah seemed happy, so she must be getting something from all the time she spent with Justin. Sarah wasn’t the sort to waste her time with someone entirely lacking in merit.
Yes, Adelaide thought, she would suggest to Cindy that the five of them take a day trip some Saturday. And if Saturday was the day Sarah usually spent with Justin, well, it wouldn’t kill her to change her plans this once. Boys and men could wait.
Adelaide hefted the stack of wastepaper she had gathered and headed down to the basement, where the recycling bins lived.
Chapter 16
It was almost two in the morning, and Cindy was wide-awake. Joe was in a characteristically deep sleep; the man always slept soundly, no matter the worries of the day gone or ahead. Still, this time might prove an exception, so as not to disturb him with her tossing and turning and sighing, Cindy had gone down to the living room and was sitting there now in the dark, alone with her troubled thoughts. She didn’t know how Sarah was sleeping and half expected to see her daughter glide into the room, wrapped in her warmest robe, a fuzzy orange thing she had found at Goodwill a few years back.
It seemed like a century since Sarah had told them she was pregnant, though in reality it was only a matter of hours. But in those few hours everything had changed radically. Assumptions had been proved faulty, assurances had been shown to be empty, and certainties had turned out to be uncertainties.
Cindy felt another wave of guilt overcome her. She had talked to Sarah about protection, but she hadn’t forced her to go to the doctor to get a prescription for the birth control pill. She should have. She simply had never considered the possibility of Sarah’s having sex without being completely prepared.
She had been stupid, Cindy thought now. And ignorant. She had put too much faith in her daughter; she had assumed Sarah was more mature than she had proved. Sarah was a teenager. No matter how smart and responsible she was she was still a child. Children weren’t equipped to make the best decisions for themselves. That’s why they were legally dependent until the age of eighteen. And even then they could act wildly and irrationally, take dangerous risks and shrug off the possibility of disaster. The sense of being fully human—flawed and mortal—didn’t come until later in life. It just didn’t.
“Oh, Sarah,” Cindy whispered into the dark. “How could you have done this?”
The purchase of new kitchen appliances she and Joe had planned would have to be postponed, maybe for quite some time. It was odd, wasn’t it? Cindy thought, staring into the dark. Only a day or two earlier she had been thinking about how she would hate to live far away from her grandchildren. And now, her first grandchild would be growing up just down the hall.
She was sure that for as long as she lived she would never forget the moment in the kitchen when Sarah had told them her news. Cindy had watched her husband’s face carefully. He was the mildest of men, but neither of his children had ever been in such a situation before. She had felt suddenly afraid, as if for the first time in their marriage she had no idea of what her husband might do or say.
And Justin! He had told Sarah that he would be there for her. It probably meant nothing. Of course it meant nothing. Cindy felt a flare of anger so intense she thought for a moment that she would pass out. Thank God Joe is retaining his composure, she thought. Because I’m not sure that I can.
Cindy rubbed her eyes. She supposed that she should tell Adelaide the news very soon. Adelaide was her friend, she would support her through any trial, but still, telling her was going to be difficult. She didn’t really believe that Adelaide would judge Sarah. It was just that . . . just that Cindy had never, ever expected the words “my sixteen-year-old daughter is pregnant” would be coming out of her mouth.
But they would be. And Cindy was sure that nothing would ever feel halfway normal again.
Chapter 17
“Could I have the carrots, please?” Cordelia asked.
“You can and you may,” her father said, passing the bowl to her.
“How’s Sarah?” her mother asked.
“She’s fine,” Cordelia said, spooning the carrots onto her plate, but she wasn’t really sure that Sarah was fine. She was still being strangely quiet, not that she was ever boisterous, and Cordelia was now a wee bit annoyed. She had thought she was Sarah’s closest friend, so why wasn’t Sarah telling her what was wrong instead of making her guess and worry?
“It’s just that I haven’t seen her much in the past week.”
Cordelia shrugged. “You know how she is. She gets—quiet—sometimes.”
“I’ve been thinking,” her father said now. “This family deserves some time off together, an entire week someplace this summer. That is, Adelaide, if you think you can leave the store in Cindy’s hands.”
“What a wonder
ful idea,” Adelaide exclaimed. “And I think Cindy’s totally capable of running the shop on her own. She might even enjoy the opportunity.”
Cordelia restrained herself from clapping. Her mother had asked her not to clap at the table as she supposedly did it quite loudly. “Dad,” she said, “that would be awesome! Maybe we could rent a house on the beach somewhere. But with a cool town right nearby, with great shops.”
“Or we might rent a house on a lake,” her mother suggested. “After all, we have a gorgeous beach right here. A change of scenery might be nice.”
“As long as it’s a lake with no bugs and a cool town nearby with great shops.”
Jack grinned. “I’ll do some research, get some ideas that work within our budget, and then we’ll take a vote. I wouldn’t mind a lake with a cool town nearby with a good sports bar. You guys can shop while I watch baseball. And sorry, Cordelia, but I don’t think there’s a lake on this planet without its share of bugs.”
“Or there’s Montreal,” her mother said. “I’ve always wanted to go there.”
“I might be able to use my French,” Cordelia added. “But maybe not. Canadian French isn’t the same as what we learn in school, is it?”
“No. But you’ll still know more than I will, with only my half forgotten high school Spanish.”
“And, of course,” Jack said, “we’ll have to be sure Cindy agrees to our little scheme.”
“I’m sure she’d appreciate the extra money. Because, of course, I’d pay her for the extra duties.”
“And she’ll have Sarah to help her,” Cordelia pointed out. “She’s the most responsible person I know. Next to you guys, of course.”
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