I need to keep my baby, was what she wanted to say. “Good night, Braxton.”
“Anya, wait—I have to tell you … I made the appointment.” His voice dropped to almost a whisper.
His words tore at her insides, and she had to hold onto the headboard.
“When I didn't hear from you earlier,” he continued with her silence, “I didn't want to chance missing the weekend appointments. So … I made a tentative appointment for tomorrow at ten. Is that okay with you?”
A pocket of air caught in her throat. She needed more time. “I'll be there.”
She heard him exhale.
“They want us to be there a half-hour early—to sign some papers and …” He coughed. “They want to go over some things.”
“Where?” her voice squeaked.
She didn't write the address down; she would forever remember the place where her baby would die.
“Anya, this is for the best. I'm only doing this because I love you.”
She hung up the phone.
Chapter 49
Anya pressed her legs together to try to calm the shaking. But then her hands began to quiver. Maybe if she didn't move, maybe if she closed her eyes, then opened them slowly, she would wake up from this hellish dream. She waited a second, closed her eyes, but when she opened them, it was still the same. It was still Saturday, she was still pregnant, and she was still going to go to an abortion clinic.
She heard the garage door open, then a minute later it closed— the sign that Sasha was gone. That's what she had been waiting for. How could she look into Sasha's eyes now, when she had tried to be an example?
Finally, she stood and walked from the bedroom. As she got to the first floor, she heard Sasha moving in the kitchen. She turned to go back, but Sasha called out her name.
“I thought you had left,” Anya said when Sasha met her at the stairs.
“I'm on my way out,” Sasha replied, crunching on half a bagel. “I needed a napkin.” Sasha looked at Anya for a long moment. “What's wrong with you?”
She brushed past Sasha. If she had to answer that question, she couldn't look into Sasha's eyes.
Sasha followed her. “Are you and Braxton still fighting?”
Anya opened the refrigerator. “No, it's over.” She faced Sasha. “I'm going to get an abortion this morning.”
Sasha's mouth opened wide. “Are you okay with this?”
Anya pressed her lips together, holding back the emotion. “I can't talk about it right now,” she quivered. “This is how it has to be.”
“Anya, you can't do this if you're not sure. Don't do it today.”
Anya shook her head. “There are things that you don't understand.” She turned her back to Sasha and stared out the window.
“Have you talked to Madear?”
“No,” Anya said, and turned to Sasha for just a moment. “And don't tell her. I have to handle this my way.”
“Then I'm going with you.” Sasha said, once again talking to Anya's back.
“I don't want you there,” she said harshly. Then, she softened her voice. “Braxton's meeting me. The only reason he's not here now is because I asked him to give me some time. I need to be by myself.”
“But, Anya—”
“Please, go, Sasha. I won't be able to stand it if you're here.”
Without another word, Sasha hugged her cousin from behind, grateful that Anya couldn't see the tears that were building in her eyes. “Make sure this is what you want to do,” Sasha whispered. “This is your baby.” Sasha paused. “This is God's baby.” Sasha blinked in surprise at her own words and she felt Anya flinch under her arms. But she turned, and walked away.
Anya stood at the window, with tears dripping from her eyes. Why did Sasha say that? Thoughts of the Lord had come to her all night, but she had pushed them away. She couldn't think of God, or even talk to Him right now. She was too broken to pray.
She laid her hands on her stomach and tried to calm the tremors that quaked within her. There was so much she wanted her baby to know. She had to explain that it was loved, but the time wasn't right. She couldn't keep it because it would mess up her relationship with Braxton, and it would never have a father, and it shouldn't be raised without one. She couldn't keep her child because it would never be loved the way it should be.
She recited all of Braxton's thoughts in her mind, not believing any of them. This baby would be loved—it was already loved more than she could have ever imagined.
But she knew that sometimes in love you had to do what you didn't want to do. Braxton was right—there were too many questions. How would her child feel knowing it was born from a rape? And, what if Alaister found out about the baby? But the question that cut her most— what would she see in her baby's eyes?
“I love you so much,” she spoke to her hand that was still resting on her stomach. “But you'll be better off … with God.”
She walked to the living room patio and opened the doors. “This is where you would've lived.” She spoke as if the baby could see. Then, she moved through the living room, touching every piece of furniture, as if the baby could feel.
When the clock chimed nine times she stiffened, but then with quick movements, she picked up her purse and jacket. Tears flooded her, as she turned around the room one last time. She was trying to grasp the moment, hold onto it forever.
Then she walked out the door knowing that, no matter what, she would never be able to look back.
After checking in, Braxton took a seat that gave him a view through the tinted windowed doors of the clinic. He'd be able to see Anya even before she walked through the door. He glanced around at the others, mostly young girls waiting their turn.
He rubbed his hands together. Maybe he should wait outside. Then he shook his head slightly. Anya would come. He had planted deep seeds, ones she could never ignore.
He picked up one of the magazines on the table—Family Life. Chuckling, he tossed the magazine aside. He glanced at his watch. In just a few hours, this would be over. They would be able to move on. And he would be able to return to his goal—to make Anya the happiest woman alive.
Even with the rain pelting from the sky like machine gun ammunition, it hadn't taken her long to get to the clinic. No matter how slow she drove, every traffic light was green.
Pulling into the parking lot, she eyed the empty space next to Braxton's car, then drove to one in the back, far from the front door.
She turned off the ignition and her eyes moved to the clock. She was five minutes early. Her eyes stayed on the clock, watching the second hand that barely seemed to move. But time was slipping quickly.
She took a breath and stepped from the car. The gravel crunched under her feet as she walked slowly across the puddled lot. But before she got to the front door, she stopped, turning suddenly, and ran back to the car.
“What is wrong with me?” She banged her hands on the steering wheel. She pulled down the visor and stared at her reflection, searching for the person she knew.
“Okay, God!” she cried aloud. “I need you like I've never needed you before. I know I haven't talked to you about this, but I'm coming to you now. You know what I'm feeling, but now please hear me. And talk to me, Lord. Please, in the name of Jesus, help me. I have this life inside of me that I know you put there. Why did you give me this baby?”
She paused, the words sticking in her throat. “I want to know what you want. I need to know and I'm trusting that you will tell me. Speak to my heart, Lord. Please.” She paused, remembering how Jesus had prayed: I thank thee that thou hast heard me. So she did the same. “Heavenly Father, I thank you, for hearing me.”
Then she leaned back, and waited. Closed her eyes, and listened. Calmed her breathing, and trusted. And as the rain began to slacken, she heard Him. She heard Him as clear as the silence surrounding her.
She remained still, allowing His message to sink into her heart. By the time she got out of the car, the rain had stopped. She maneuvered onc
e again through the small circles of water covering the gravel, but halfway to the front door, she turned back.
Inside the car, she put her hand over her stomach and rubbed it in small circles. “I don't need to go in. They'll figure out that we're not coming.” She turned on the ignition. “Come on, little one. We're going home.”
She drove off, splashing water along the curb as she sped away from the clinic.
Braxton had only used the key that Anya had given him for emergencies a few times. Today, he used his key.
As soon as Braxton stepped in, he saw her. He held the door open for a few seconds before he let it slowly close behind him. Then he stepped to the couch and sat beside her.
Anya kept her eyes pasted on the mantel in front of her. But she could feel the glare of his stare.
Finally she whispered, “I couldn't do it, Braxton.”
“Anya, you don't have a choice.”
She simply shook her head.
“What about all the things we talked about?” he asked, keeping his voice steady. “You're going to hate this baby.”
“That's not true.”
He began to pace. “You're going to see the rape in the child's eyes.” He crouched down in front of her. Finally, their eyes met. “I can't let you do this.”
“Braxton, I can't explain it, but I love my baby already.”
He cringed. For the first time, he noticed the Bible next to her, but he forced his eyes away. “You don't love this child.”
She shook her head. “You don't understand, this child is a part of me.
“But think about the other part, Anya. How can you even think about bringing that man's child into the world?”
Her eyes pleaded for him to understand. “I wish I could find a way to explain, but there's nothing else for me to say.” She paused and took his hands. “I'm going to have this baby.”
“You're talking like this is just about you,” he said, snatching his hand away. “What about the rest of us?”
“That's what makes this so hard, because I am thinking about you and Junior. But I don't see why I have to give up one person I want to love, for another person I love.”
With his hands, he waved her words away. “You keep talking about love, but this is not about that. You can't love this … thing. You're in shock” He sat next to her again. “Anya, just remember that you were raped.”
“Even without your constant reminders, I will always remember that.” He held his face in his hands. “I'm just trying to get you to understand.”
“And I want you to understand. This baby is a part of me. Fifty percent of this child is me!”
“Okay …” He stood, his eyes flashing with anger. “Finish the equation, Anya. This baby is fifty percent you and—”
“This baby is fifty percent me and one hundred percent God.”
Braxton sucked in air, then exhaled, letting silence visit them again. Minutes passed before he spoke. “Honey, this is not what God wants you to do.”
“Braxton, I think this baby was in God's mind before it was ever conceived. He brought this to us.”
“I don't believe that.”
“I know you don't, but I've got to stand by my faith.”
“We have the same faith.”
She looked at him for a long moment, then turned away.
“So you're saying what I believe is wrong?” Braxton asked.
“I'm not saying anything about you. I'm talking about me and what I have to do for my walk of faith. I either believe in God or I don't. I can't do this halfway.”
“That's what you think I'm doing?”
“I can't answer that. Braxton, I'm not judging you. I'm just walking the path that I believe God has set for me.”
“While you're walking this walk, what about my son?”
“Junior will be fine, I promise you.” She allowed a few seconds to pass. “I asked God for direction. And he gave me a scripture.” She picked up the Bible and handed it to him, then recited the verse that she had already committed to memory. “Before I formed thee in the belly I knew thee; and before thou earnest forth out of the womb I sanctified thee …”
Braxton sighed deeply. “Anya, God is not talking about your baby.”
She took the Bible from him, then took his hand. “We don't need to keep going over and over this. We have to find a way to make this work for us.”
He gently slipped his hand from hers.
“So you're willing to choose this baby over me.”
“I'm not choosing the baby, I'm choosing God.”
“Over me?”
“Braxton, would you want to marry me if I didn't put God first?”
“Anya, there's no way …” He stopped.
She clasped her hands together to stop their shaking. “Finish what you were saying.”
He looked away. “This changes everything, Anya.”
Immediately tears came to her eyes. “I know.”
“I don't know how you expect me to live with this. You want me to bring that child into my home. That child is not mine.”
“Junior is not my son either and I want him to be part of our home.”
“That's different.”
“I know you think it's different.”
The present and the future were dichotomized only by the silence that fell between them. Finally, with a sideways glance, he spoke. “You need some time.” He slowly nodded his head. “I know you'll change your mind.”
Anya was unable to speak.
Their eyes didn't dare meet.
“I need to give you space,” Braxton continued, his voice now beginning to shake.
When he finally forced himself to face her, the tears that stung his eyes matched the ones that were already streaming down her face.
“Just a little time …” his voice quavered.
She finally spoke. “I understand.”
More minutes ticked by. Anya stared at her ring and began to twist it from her finger. A tear fell from her eye and covered the diamond. She wiped it away, then reached out, offering the ring to Braxton.
“No!” He shook his head vehemently. “It's not like that. I just want you to—”
She brought her forefinger to his lips. “When we work things out, you can put it back on my finger.” Anya opened his closed hand and put the ring into his palm. She held his hand for a moment longer, then pulled away.
“I love you, Anya,” he said, as a tear wavered in the corner of his eye.
“I love you.”
When he kissed her on the cheek, his tears began to fall. Anya used her fingertips to wipe them away, then stood silently as he walked through the front door.
She clutched her arms as a lump expanded inside her throat, choking her until she had to gasp for each breath. And in that instant, she knew she would never experience a greater pain.
She heard the soft knock on her bedroom door and sat up immediately in the darkened room. “Braxton!” she yelled out.
The door opened and Sasha peeked inside. “Can I come in?”
Anya scooted up in the bed, pulled Madear's quilt over her, and turned on the nightstand light.
Sasha came to the edge of the bed. “I tried to call, but you didn't answer.”
“I was trying to get some sleep.”
Sasha took her hand. “Are you all right?”
“I didn't do it.”
A slow smile crossed Sasha's face. “Oh, God, I knew you wouldn't do it.” She hugged Anya.
“I thought you wanted me to.”
“That's what I said the other day because I thought it was socially correct. But a lot of what you said made sense to me. I can't explain it, but somehow in my heart it seems … right for you to have this baby. I knew you guys wouldn't do it,” she said, throwing her fist in the air like she had just won a prize. “So Braxton finally gave in, huh?”
Anya paused for a moment, then lifted her left hand and wiggled her fingers.
Sasha gasped. “No!”
“Y
es.” Even though she had cried most of the afternoon, the acknowledgment made her heart ache.
Sasha stood and paced the room. “He doesn't mean this, you'll work through it.”
Anya sighed. “All I know is that I've shed a million tears today, but now I have to find a way to survive through this.”
Sasha sat back down on the bed. “Are you scared?”
Anya nodded. “But I'm counting on God big time! He brought me here, so He's just going to have to pull me through.”
Sasha shook her head. “Your faith amazes me. You act like you have God sitting in your back pocket.”
Anya chuckled. “That's an interesting way of putting it, but that's how I feel. I know how God works.”
Sasha hugged her again. “I know you're tired. Do you want anything to eat?”
Anya lay back on the bed. “No, I just want to sleep. I have church in the morning, and then I'll go by Madear's and tell her. So I need my rest.” Anya grinned.
“Okay.” Sasha moved toward the door, then turned around. “Where's your ring?”
Anya frowned. “I gave it back to him.”
“You what? No, don't repeat that.” Sasha closed her eyes and brought her hand to her forehead. “I think I'm going to faint.” Then she put her hands on her hips and said, “Haven't you learned anything from me? You were supposed to keep the rock and let it give you solace in your moments of sorrow.”
Anya laughed. “Get out of here, girl.” Anya was still chuckling when Sasha left the room, still shaking her head in disbelief. And in spite of it all, Anya was still smiling when she turned off the light and went to sleep.
Chapter 50
Anya took an aisle seat and laid her Bible in the chair next to her. She was surprised at how good she felt, sleeping through most of the night. But now, she sat anxiously waiting. Service would begin in less than five minutes and Braxton had not arrived. It was becoming reality—he meant every word he said.
She used the bulletin to divert her attention, glancing at the announcements, when suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She smiled, relieved, and turned toward the hand. “Braxton.”
It was his dimple that she noticed first. “David, what are you doing here?”
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