Farah's Deadline

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Farah's Deadline Page 12

by Brenda Maxfield


  Chapter Fourteen

  “Farah?” Dad glanced toward me, and his face was red and teary. He smiled, and I could feel the raw joy in his movement. “Come join us.”

  My insides hardened. “No thanks.”

  Sam extricated himself from Dad’s arms. He walked to me and leaned down until our noses were even. “Farah, please.”

  His eyes stared into mine, and it was like I could see into his scarred soul. I shuddered and shook my head again.

  “For me,” he whispered.

  My jaw set and tears pricked beneath my eyelids. I tried to turn away from his gaze, but I couldn’t do it. This was Sam, my brother, standing right in front of me like a Christmas miracle. I leaned forward and lay my head on his shoulder. His arms curled around me.

  Dad cleared his throat. “Can we sit together for a while?”

  Sam stepped back from my hug and searched my face. “Can we, Farah?”

  I nodded, and he took my hand, and we went back to the den and sat on the couch. Dad sat at an angle from us on the other couch. He pulled a hanky out of his pocket and blew his nose.

  “Mom?” Sam asked.

  Dad sighed and stuffed his handkerchief back into his pocket. “We’re not together anymore.”

  Sam’s eyes grew wide. “What happened?”

  Dad shook his head and grimaced, an expression of fatigue settling over him. “Life.”

  I lay my head on Sam’s shoulder again, and Sam cradled my hand in his.

  Dad studied Sam. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry. I’ve regretted letting you leave, more than I can say.”

  “Yet you never tried to find me.” Sam’s body had gone tense again, and I felt his heartbeat quicken.

  Dad fidgeted with the outside seam of his pants leg.

  The baby inside me kicked.

  “No, I didn’t. Your mother…” Dad moved his shoulders around and shifted his position on the couch. “No, I can’t blame her, but the truth is she wouldn’t hear of it. I should’ve found you. I shouldn’t have caved in to her. It was wrong. No… stupid. It was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. Or not done.”

  Sam’s breath came fast, and my head on his shoulder moved up and down with it.

  “I was wrong. Please forgive me.”

  “We hugged, didn’t we?” Sam’s voice was quiet and direct.

  Dad blinked and rubbed his hands on his thighs. “You’re a bigger man than I’ve been my whole life.”

  Sam’s chest convulsed, and I jerked upright and stared at him. His tears were flowing, and there was confused surprise on his face.

  “Maybe we can start over,” Dad said.

  “Maybe.”

  “I’m glad you’re back with Farah.”

  Sam squeezed my hand. “So am I.”

  “I’ve talked to her about giving her baby up for adoption.”

  “And?” Sam asked.

  Again my jaw tightened, and I could feel the boiling start low in my stomach. He was bringing adoption up now of all times?

  “I’m right here!” I announced. “You don’t have to talk about me like I’m a six-year-old in the next room.”

  “We weren’t. I was only…” Dad started.

  “You were trying to control my life, as usual.”

  I leapt off the couch and glared at him. “You come uninvited, unannounced, and take over my time with Sammy. I’m the one who found him — me, not you. You didn’t even care enough to try!”

  I was on a roll, my voice getting more frantic with each word.

  “And I’m not giving this baby up! Pete and I are going to be married. How many bazillion times do I have to tell you?”

  I wanted to shut up. My whole brain screamed at me to shut up, but my mouth kept going.

  “I don’t need you or Mother or anyone telling me what to do. So, get out and stay out of my life!”

  I was shaking, and when the tears came, they made me furious. Sam jumped up and put his arm around me.

  “Farah, it’s okay. We’ll work it out. Don’t worry. I’m not leaving you again.”

  All color from Dad’s face drained, leaving it like a barren field of snow. His mouth went slack, and he somehow shrank in size.

  I pulled away from Sam. “I need some air.”

  “I’ll wait,” he said.

  I ran to the entryway and grabbed someone’s coat off the array of hooks. I thrust it on. It was too big, and the sleeves draped below my hands. The doorknob slipped from my grasp. I shoved up the coat sleeves, tried it again, and it opened. I rushed out into the still cold air and slammed the door behind me. My lungs ached as I gulped in quick breaths. I leaned against one of the wide white columns.

  My heart was a twisted mass of confusion. All I knew was Dad had ruined everything. Everything. I’d gotten Sam back only to lose him again to Dad. I pounded my fist on the column and fought the tears stinging my eyes.

  The door opened and closed, and I cringed knowing it’d be Dad to check on me.

  “Farah?”

  I stiffened. It wasn’t Dad at all. I turned and saw Ned gazing at me. My lips trembled, and I attempted to assume a dignified stance.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Getting some fresh air.”

  “It’s freezing out here, and you don’t even have a hat or gloves. Where’s your brother?”

  “Inside with my dad.” I jerked my head toward the house.

  “Why are you out here? You should be in there with them.”

  “Long story.”

  Ned stepped close and pulled the edges of the coat together under my chin. “It’s too cold out here.”

  “I’m not cold,” I said and was shocked to realize it was true. Somehow Ned’s presence had eased my shaking and brought me back to myself.

  “Reunion not going so well, huh?” His hair stuck out below his stocking cap. He pushed the hat back from his forehead, making the tufts stick out even more.

  “No, it was good. Kind of got ruined when Dad came, though.”

  “I take it you don’t like your dad so much.”

  “I used to. Issues now.”

  His eyes rested on my stomach. “Baby issues?”

  “Among other stuff.”

  His eyes found mine, and his frank gaze comforted me.

  “You’re not judging me so much anymore,” I said.

  He gave a small laugh, and the corners of his mouth turned up. “Judging is overrated. Wastes too much emotion.”

  I sighed, and my forehead tightened into a frown. “Some people deserve it.”

  “Like who?”

  “My dad. If you knew…”

  “I guess that’s your choice, Farah.”

  He said it in a matter-of-fact tone and kept his eyes on me. Then he shrugged, tipping his head.

  “You don’t understand. Your parents are way different than mine,” I said.

  “Aren’t they all?”

  Okay, now he was irritating me, standing there all calm and superior.

  “You’re annoying, you know that?” The words shot out in a tight wave.

  Ned threw back his head and laughed, no, more like guffawed. My irritation rose. I put my hands on my hips and gave him my best withering stare. But it didn’t affect him — he kept laughing.

  I stomped my foot on the frosty cement, which kind of hurt, and Ned’s laughter softened into a chuckle.

  “Farah, you’re one of the funniest girls I know.”

  And just like that, the whole mood shifted, and I glided right into flirting. Without any effort, I knew my green eyes were shining and drawing him in. It was habit — I’d had years of practice.

  He put his hand on my shoulder. “Oh, no you don’t. I see that look on your face.”

  I bit my lips and gave him a guilty, wide-eyed gaze. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re totally flirting with me, and it’s completely inappropriate.” His voice carried a smile. “You’re pregnant, going to marry your crappy boyfriend, and walk out of my life forever.
Not to mention, my family would faint in a dead heap if I went for you.”

  I blinked, and tried to keep up with his words. Did he like me?

  Wait, he’d dissed Pete.

  “You don’t even know my boyfriend, so keep your insults to yourself.”

  “Come on, Farah, you’re smart. Too smart, in fact. You can’t be that blind.”

  “And now you’re back to annoying. Didn’t take long, did it?”

  Ned put his hand on his chin and studied me. “I was wrong. You are blind.”

  “I’m glad you’ve got me all figured out. And since I’m blind, I’ll have to feel my way back into the house.”

  I smacked into him, and he almost fell before regaining his balance.

  “Oh, so sorry. Didn’t mean to knock you over, but then I’m blind.”

  I opened the door, stepped into the entry way, and yanked it closed behind me. The echoing bang satisfied me down to my toes. I shrugged off the coat I’d taken, hung it on a hook, and paused to regroup. Dad and Sam were still in the den, and even though I didn’t want to see Dad, I did want to see Sam. Before I could make up my mind what to do, they both came into the living room.

  “Farah, there you are,” Sam said. He walked to me and gave me a long hug. “When can I come again?”

  “We have visiting hours on Saturday,” I murmured into his shoulder. I wanted to stay in his hug forever.

  “I’ll be here,” he said in my ear.

  We pulled apart, and his finger skimmed down my cheek. “Till Saturday.”

  Happiness pressed on my chest, giving me a thrill of anticipation. My brother stood next to me, promising he’d see me again in four short days. I couldn’t fathom the wonder of it all.

  I watched him leave and then realized Dad was still there, his eyes following Sam. He turned to me.

  “Thank you for this, Farah. Thank you with everything in me.”

  A truckload of tiredness dumped on me, and I wavered on my feet. Dad reached out and grabbed my arm.

  “You okay?” Worry thickened his voice. “Let’s sit you down.” He tried to lead me to the couch, but I resisted.

  “I want to go to bed,” I said. And sleep for a million years.

  “Go on, then. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  I moved to the hallway and raised my hand behind me. “Don’t bother,” I said and padded my way over the thick carpet.

  When I walked into our room, the lights were out, and I assumed Lizbet was asleep. I went straight to my bed and fell onto it. Reaching down, I took off my shoes and dropped them with a thud, but I didn’t bother to change my clothes. I pulled the blankets over me and buried my head in the pillow.

  “Farah?” Lizbet rustled in her covers.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m happy for you. After so many years. What was it like?”

  My eyelids were heavy and already felt glued shut. “Wonderful.”

  “I didn’t know your dad was coming.”

  I was too tired to care anymore. “Me neither.”

  “You had a reunion like on one of those reality shows Ariel keeps talking about.”

  My mind wandered elsewhere. “Does Ned have a girlfriend?”

  Her silence stretched across the room.

  “Lizbet, did you hear me?”

  “I heard you. No, he doesn’t. Why?”

  “Wondered is all…”

  With that, I was asleep.

  ****

  Breakfast was hot oatmeal, toast, and fruit. No one spoke much; we all concentrated on our food. I got up to clear the table when Jasmyn moaned. Her hand lurched across the table, and her oatmeal went flying.

  Steve jumped up. “What’s wrong?”

  Jasmyn bent double, and her moans came in quick staccatos. “It hurts. It hurts.”

  “Edie!” Steve yelled over his shoulder and dashed to Jasmyn’s side. “Someone call 911!”

  Ariel scrambled from her chair and ran to the office.

  Steve held Jasmyn in his arms to keep her from sinking to the floor. I plastered myself against the dining room wall and stared wide-eyed as blood ran down the legs of her chair.

  “What’s wrong?” cried Edie, running into the room. She took one look at the blood and let out a cry. “Jasmyn, honey, what’s wrong?”

  “Ariel’s gone for help,” Steve said.

  Jasmyn’s face was white, and her eyes darted around the room terrified. “I hurt. It won’t stop.”

  Steve held her, and Edie starting rubbing her shoulders. “Breathe, honey, breathe. That’s a girl, you’re doing fine.” Edie’s voice took on a coaching tone, soft and firm.

  Was Jasmyn in labor? My mind whirled with calculations. She wasn’t nine months along. Something was wrong — and blood didn’t gush in labor or did it?

  Rosaline was frozen in her chair, her eyes glazed over. She was the furthest along of all of us. If anyone should be in labor, it should be her. Ariel skidded back from the office. “I hung up, but they’re coming.”

  She hurried over and sidled up to me. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “Keep breathing, Jasmyn, there’s a girl,” Edie’s voice droned on, her tone even. “It’ll ease soon.” Over Jasmyn’s head, Edie and Steve exchanged looks of open-eyed fear.

  A siren wailed in the distance, and Ariel broke away from me and ran to the front door.

  “Call them,” Jasmyn choked out. “Call the Millers. Hurry!”

  Edie stroked her back. “We’ll call them. Don’t you worry. Help is almost here.”

  “Call them!” Jasmyn screamed as a spasm shook her. She moaned and burrowed herself into Steve’s side. The siren outside shrieked to a halt, and paramedics ran by Ariel to Jasmyn.

  A horror movie played out in front of us. The two men placed Jasmyn onto the gurney. She writhed in pain and tried to twist back onto her side. The paramedics strapped her down and headed out the door. Steve ran for Edie’s coat and tossed it to her as she bolted after Jasmyn.

  They were gone. Rosaline became mobile again and stood, clearing the table and picking up the dishes like a programmed robot.

  No one touched the puddle of blood snaking under Jasmyn’s chair.

  Ariel whistled under her breath and our eyes met.

  “Is she dying? She isn’t in labor is she?”

  “She’s only seven months. It’s way too early. And the blood…”

  Steve shut the front door and came back to the dining room. “She’ll be fine, girls. We’ve got a great hospital. I don’t want you to worry. Edie will keep us posted.” He walked toward the office. “I’ll get the mess cleaned up in a few minutes. I have to make some calls.”

  “Who are the Millers?” I started after him. “Why was Jasmyn so insistent on calling them?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ariel grabbed my arm and pulled me back. “The Millers are the family adopting her baby.”

  “She’s met them?”

  Ariel gave me a quizzical squint. “Of course. Haven’t you talked with the adoption people yet? They’ve been here a couple times since you’ve been here.”

  “No.”

  “Jasmyn chose the Millers. They’re getting her baby. She’s met them twice.” Ariel stared off toward the front door. “Maybe no one will get to keep her baby now.”

  “Don’t say that. The baby will be fine. You’ll see.”

  But I didn’t believe my own words.

  “Have you chosen a family?” I asked Ariel.

  “Of course. My mother would never help me raise a baby. Besides, it’s a girl and…”

  She didn’t continue.

  “And what?”

  “Mom doesn’t like girls.”

  I stared at her. “What do you mean?”

  Ariel shook her shoulders as if shrugging off a heavy coat. “Never mind. Not important.”

  I stood for a moment, my thoughts whirling. “If something happens to Jasmyn’s baby, what happens to the Millers?”

  “I guess they’ll go back on the list.” />
  Steve emerged from the office, saw us, and flinched as if surprised we were still standing there. “Shouldn’t you be getting out there to the bus?”

  “To school? Are you serious? How could we concentrate with Jasmyn at the hospital?” Ariel asked.

  He ran his hand through his hair. He left one wisp sticking straight up in the front, giving him an antenna in the middle of his head. “I see your point. Fine, you can stay home, but if we get word soon, I’ll drive you to school for the rest of the day. Where’s Lizbet?”

  “She never came to breakfast,” Ariel said.

  “She got up and showered. I’ll go find her.” I left them and went down the hallway to our room. Lizbet was sitting in the middle of her bed with her legs drawn up as close to her chest as she could over her pooching stomach.

  “Jasmyn went to the hospital,” I said.

  She nodded. “I saw everything.”

  “What are you doing hidden back here then?”

  “Is it going to hurt real bad for us, too?”

  “We don’t even know if it was labor, she might have had indigestion or something.”

  “Bloody indigestion?” Her eyes pleaded with me.

  “Don’t look at me. I don’t know what I’m talking about. Plus, I’ve never been through labor.”

  “I want this to be over,” Lizbet said, lying over on her side. Her braid fell down her back and zigzagged across the bedspread. “I’m tired of it.”

  “You and me both.”

  “Would you do it again?”

  I gave her a sharp glance. “I didn’t do it on purpose this time.”

  She sat up. “But you weren’t attacked. You had a choice.”

  I pressed my lips together and tried to ignore the swell of irritation rising inside. “I didn’t choose to get pregnant, Lizbet.” Her name snapped out of my mouth like spit.

  She flinched. “Sorry. It seems like I’m always making you mad.”

  I took my hairbrush from the bedside table and pulled it through my hair with vigor.

  “Don’t be mad, okay?” Lizbet’s voice was soft.

  “I’m not. Let’s drop it.” I kept brushing my hair, and it cackled with electricity.

 

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