The Choice

by Robert Whitlow

  “Obviously.”

  Leanne took a packet of tissues from her purse and offered one to Sandy. They both blew their noses and laughed.

  “What’s funny?” Jeremy asked, bewildered.

  “We need to get the kids,” Leanne said. “Chloe is going to wonder why her mommy has been crying. Jeremy, what are you going to tell her?”

  “That she should know because she’ll be a woman someday.”

  They walked out of the sanctuary together. The sun was shining, and the air had the comfortable cool that only autumn provides.

  “There’s not much time for us to talk now,” Leanne said to Sandy, “but there’s one question I have to ask you. Why did you send the boys to different families?”

  Sandy didn’t feel threatened by Leanne.

  “I thought it was the right thing to do. Someday I’ll tell you the whole story.”

  Leanne took both Sandy’s hands in hers and peered into her eyes.

  “I think having two mothers-in-law is going to be a blessing.”

  Sandy wasn’t sure if she drove her car back to Rutland or if it flew a few inches above the pavement. When she got home, she knew it was time to call her mother. Linda was visiting in Florida for a few weeks. That way Sandy could tell both women at the same time. Her mother answered the phone.

  “Hey, Mama,” Sandy said. “Where are you?”

  “In my bedroom. Why?”

  “Would you please ask Linda to pick up the phone in the kitchen? I have something important to tell both of you, and I don’t want to repeat it.”

  “Are you sick?”

  “No, no, I’m fine.”

  Sandy heard her mother call Linda’s name.

  “This had better be important,” Linda said when she came on the line. “I’m near the end of a good book and want to find out what happened.”

  “This is better than fiction,” Sandy replied. “I have some exciting news. I’ve met one of my sons.”

  The two women’s initial reaction was total silence.

  “Say that again,” her mother said after a few seconds passed.

  “I’ve found the younger of the twins. He’s a lawyer in Tryon named Jeremy Lane.”

  “Are you positive it’s him?” her mother asked. “How can you be sure?”

  Sandy repeated her story. When she mentioned the card on Baby Smith’s bassinet in the infant nursery at the hospital, Linda interrupted her.

  “I remember that card. I never told you, but I took a picture of the cards on both bassinets. The photos are in a box in the guestroom closet at my house.”

  “Jeremy’s mother has the original. When he asked why his birth weight was so low, I told him he had a fraternal twin.”

  “How did he take that news?” her mother asked.

  “So far, he’s not seemed that interested.” Sandy paused. “He really wants to get to know me.”

  “Did he ask about his father?”

  “Yes, but only to find out who he was. If he wants to track down Brad, I won’t try to discourage him.”

  “I would,” Linda grunted.

  “I know why you’re saying that,” Sandy replied. “But when you meet Jeremy and see his family, the negative things of the past will seem unimportant.”

  “Do you have pictures of him?” her mother asked.

  “Yes. I’ll e-mail some to you later. Oh, and I haven’t told Jack yet, but I’ll try to call him this afternoon. Other than Ben and Betsy, the only person who knows is Jessica. She was over here the other day and saw some photos lying around. There was no hiding the truth from her.”

  Sandy heard someone blow her nose.

  “Are you okay?”

  “That’s me, crying like a baby myself,” Linda said. “All the memories of those months we spent together hit me like a flood. It was one of the happiest times of my life. And to think about seeing one of the boys is unbelievable.”

  “Maybe I could ride back to Georgia with Linda and we could all get together,” Sandy’s mother said.

  “I think that would be a great idea,” Sandy said. “Let me mention it to Jeremy and see what he thinks. I’m trying to let him set the pace for the relationship.”

  “Good idea,” her mother said.

  “Maybe, but you’ve ruined the rest of my afternoon,” Linda said. “There’s no way I can get back into my book.”

  When the call ended, Sandy waited a few minutes, then phoned Jack. After listening to her story, he asked so many questions that Sandy finally had to suggest that he send an e-mail so she could make an effort to find out everything he wanted to know about Jeremy.

  Monday morning Maria came to Sandy’s classroom before first period started. The Hispanic girl looked tired.

  “I’m staying with Rosalita for a few days,” Maria said. “My father is very mad at me because I have not had the abortion.”

  “Will he bother you at Rosalita’s trailer? It’s so close by.”

  “No. He wants me to be there. If I am going to have a baby, he wants me to take care of it myself.”

  Sandy switched to Spanish. “What do you want to do about the legal papers filed against you to have you declared mentally incompetent?”

  “I want Mr. Lane to help me,” Maria replied.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you won’t change your mind?”

  Sandy didn’t want to be hard on Maria, but she felt it necessary to make sure the girl had really made a firm decision.

  “Rosalita and I talked about it. She believes I need to have someone I can trust helping me. Will you let him know? He told me I needed to sign a paper so he can be my lawyer.”

  Satisfied, Sandy said, “I’ll call him today.”

  During the short break between first and second periods, Sandy went to her car and phoned Jeremy’s office.

  “Lane Law Offices,” Deb said.

  “Hi, Deb. This is Sandy Lincoln. Is Jeremy—”

  “Sandy,” Deb interrupted. “This is so incredible. After seeing you and Jeremy together at the church, I can totally see the family resemblance. I was looking at the pictures in Jeremy’s office this morning. Chloe looks even more like you than he does. Send me a cute photo of yourself, and I’ll have it framed to put on his credenza. It will be a fun surprise.”

  “Thanks, but I’m already working on an album for him. If he wants a picture for his office, I’m sure he’ll let me know. I’m trying to avoid surprising him any more than I already have.”

  “There’s no use being too coy. This is huge. I tried to corner Jeremy this morning, but he dashed in here for five minutes, then left for the courthouse. Did you enjoy meeting Leanne? She’s a sweetheart.”

  “Yes, very much.”

  “She’s more serious than Jeremy. He has a big playful streak that he doesn’t show much as a lawyer, but it comes out when he’s with his kids. You’ll see it eventually. Oh, I assume you’re going to ride together to the hearing in Atlanta on Wednesday.”

  “Yes, we talked about it the other day. He’ll prep me some more during the drive.”

  “This must be so exciting for you. Do you have any other children?”

  “Did Jeremy tell you he has a fraternal twin?”

  Deb screamed so loud that Sandy had to hold the phone away from her ear.

  “Sorry about that,” Deb said. “It’s a good thing I’m here by myself. This is like something from a movie. Have you met him?”

  “No, and I don’t know where he is.”

  “I’m sure tracking him down will be one of Jeremy’s priorities.”

  “Maybe.” Sandy frowned. “Listen, I’m in between classes and have to go, but I talked to Maria Alverez this morning, and she wants Jeremy to represent her in the juvenile court case. Can you ask Jeremy to send me an attorney-client contract for Maria to sign?”

  “Of course; he had one in the file when he met with her and her father in Rutland on Thursday”—Deb paused—“the day he found out about you. I know
it was intensely personal, but I wish I could have been there. Was he skeptical at first? Did he cry?”

  “No tears from him. And it wasn’t too hard to convince him.”

  “How did you do it?”

  “I think the key was when I told him how much he weighed when he was born.”

  “That’s so perfect. Who else would know that after thirty-three years but a mother?”

  Sandy heard some muffled talking, then Deb came back on the line.

  “I’ve got to go,” Deb said. “A client came in to pick up some papers.”

  “Okay. Don’t forget the papers for Maria.”

  “I’ll send the contract within an hour.”

  Sandy had submitted a request for a vacation day as soon as she found out about the hearing in Atlanta. When she stopped by the teachers’ lounge on her way to the cafeteria for lunch, there was a sealed envelope in her school mailbox. Inside was an approval for paid time off; however, at the top of the page was typed “Carol Ramsey.” Sandy suspected her letter had been sent to Carol. She put the envelope in Carol’s box, which turned out to be empty.

  Sandy wasn’t surprised that Carol would be at the hearing. Who else would claim that Sandy had been intimidating Maria? However, it didn’t make being on opposite sides of the courtroom from a coworker any easier. Before going to the cafeteria, Sandy went by the school office. Dr. Vale’s secretary, a young woman who didn’t look much older than some of the students in Sandy’s classes, was sitting at her desk.

  “The approval for Carol Ramsey’s request for a vacation day on Wednesday was in my box,” Sandy said. “I put it in hers. Did she turn mine in to the office?”

  “I haven’t seen it,” the woman said. “Are you sure you sent one in?”

  “Yes,” Sandy replied patiently. “You weren’t at your desk, so I gave it to Ms. Falls. She was filling in for you.”

  “I can check with Dr. Vale, but you should probably put in another request. I can’t be responsible for things that aren’t given directly to me.”

  Sandy clenched her teeth.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Returning to her classroom, she printed out a copy of the request with the date at the top and marched down the hall. When she entered the office, Dr. Vale was standing beside his assistant’s desk.

  “Here she is,” the secretary said.

  “Ms. Lincoln,” Dr. Vale said, “it’s school policy to file requests for vacation days at least five business days in advance.”

  “Which is why I gave this to Ms. Falls last week,” Sandy replied, handing him the request. “Check the date at the top. Apparently it wasn’t delivered to you in a timely manner.”

  “Do you have proof of delivery?” the principal asked.

  “Do you have a Bible handy?”

  “Why?” Dr. Vale gave Sandy a blank look.

  “So I can swear on the Bible that I delivered the request more than five business days in advance.”

  “Make arrangements for your own substitute,” Dr. Vale answered curtly. “And in the future, give any requests for days off directly to me.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  Fuming, Sandy left the office. Never in her teaching career had she faced overt harassment from the school administration. She took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself. Dr. Vale was probably catching heat from the school board about two of his staff squaring off in a legal proceeding that would bring negative publicity to Rutland High.

  After lunch, Sandy went by the teachers’ lounge. There was an envelope in her box. It was approval for her vacation request signed and dated the previous day by Mr. Blankenship, the assistant principal.

  Bureaucratic foul-ups could drive a person crazy.

  THIRTY-TWO

  Tuesday morning Maria signed the contract hiring Jeremy as her lawyer. Sandy took it to Coach Bestwick’s office to scan and send to Jeremy. The basketball coach was sitting at his desk reading when she entered.

  “Sorry, something else,” she said holding up the sheet of paper.

  John scooted away from his desk.

  “Go ahead.”

  When Sandy placed the contract on the printer and pressed the Scan button, she saw a devotional book and an open Bible on John’s desk.

  “You’re reading the Bible?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’m trying to get in thirty minutes a day. That’s still less time than I spend running and lifting weights.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “I’ve been making some changes. I even contacted my ex-wife last week and apologized for being such a jerk during the final year of our marriage. She didn’t know what to think.”

  Sandy didn’t know the details of the divorce.

  “Is she remarried?”

  “Yes, but I needed to do it anyway. A few days ago, I called my daughter Fay, you know, the one who just started a new job in Jacksonville. She’d heard from her mother and asked me a bunch of questions. She ended up telling me she loved me. That hasn’t happened in years. I feel like the prodigal father who came home.”

  Sandy removed the contract from the machine.

  “I know what you mean,” she said.

  John Bestwick’s words were still in Sandy’s mind when she left school after cheerleading practice. Instead of going straight home, she pulled into the parking lot for her church. Margie Little, the church secretary, was there. The two women had known each other for decades.

  “Reverend Peterson is at the hospital visiting Bill Woods,” Margie said when Sandy came in.

  “What’s wrong with Bill?”

  “Gallbladder. They thought it might be something more serious, so the news was a relief.”

  “I didn’t come by to see Reverend Peterson,” Sandy said. “I just wanted to spend a few minutes in the sanctuary.”

  “Go ahead,” Margie said and waved her hand. “I won’t be finished here for at least half an hour. Take your time.”

  The deserted sanctuary was as still and quiet as a secluded pond on a windless day. Sandy walked down the center aisle but didn’t stop at the pew where she usually sat. Instead, she headed toward the spot where she’d sat with her family the night of the special Christmas Eve service.

  Sitting down, Sandy closed her eyes and folded her hands across the body that had been full of new life that long-ago night. Now she knew one of the tiny, hidden babies was a strong, grownup man—Sandy smiled—who was no longer able to kick her bladder in the middle of the night so she had to crawl out of bed and go to the bathroom.

  Everyone is a prodigal in their own unique way, Sandy thought. She knew she’d come reluctantly to the church on Christmas Eve as an unmarried, pregnant teenager and been embraced by the welcoming arms of a loving heavenly Father. She was a prodigal who came home and experienced God’s peace and forgiveness. The ensuing years had proven the change genuine. She took a few minutes to silently express her gratitude.

  But Sandy sensed the need for something more. God knew every hidden whisper of her heart, but she wanted to receive a tangible token to carry with her on the next stage of her journey. She rested her fingers lightly on the top of the pew in front of her for a few moments.

  And knew what to ask for.

  Sandy bowed her head and prayed that she, like her heavenly Father, would open loving, unselfish arms to the people God brought into her life—Maria, Jeremy, his family, the cheerleaders, and others not yet known. Sandy didn’t have a traditional family, but she could hold out her arms as wide as God’s grace allowed. It was a vivid picture, something she could hold on to in the days and years to come.

  Grateful again, she slipped out of the pew.

  Sandy had arranged to meet Jeremy in the parking lot at Ben’s office early in the morning to leave for Atlanta. The lot was empty when she arrived. She sat quietly in her car as she waited. Jeremy’s white SUV came around the corner.

  “Sorry I’m a few minutes late,” Jeremy said when Sandy got in his vehicle. “Chloe had an upset stomach las
t night, and I didn’t get a lot of sleep.”

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  “Probably too much pizza and ice cream at a friend’s birthday party. By this morning she felt better than I did, so Leanne sent her to school. Where is the best place to get a cup of coffee in Rutland? I need a second jolt.”

  Sandy directed him to a coffee shop with a drive-through window.

  “Do you want anything?” he asked.

  “No, thanks.”

  They left Rutland and headed down the familiar road to Atlanta. Sandy thought about the drive she took in her VW when Jeremy was an unborn child.

  “I had a long conversation with the lawyer on the other side of the case,” Jeremy said, taking a sip of coffee.

  “You did?” Sandy asked in surprise.

  “Yeah, sometimes it’s a good idea to talk to opposing counsel before a case gets going and emotions start to run high. That’s especially true when dealing with an unfamiliar attorney. I wanted to show him a bit of Southern hospitality. I think I caught him off guard, and he opened up more than he might have if he’d had time to think about it. He’s only been in Atlanta for about a year. Most of Dusty’s trial experience has been in Los Angeles.”

  “Dusty?”

  “That’s what he goes by. We’re about the same age. I’ll call him Mr. Abernathy in front of the judge.”

  “If you talked to him about Southern hospitality, won’t that make him think he can run all over you?”

  “If he tries,” Jeremy said with a steely glint in his eye, “it would be a serious mistake.”

  “Did you find out why he took the case?”

  “A friend asked him to. My guess is that his ‘friend’ is a woman he’s interested in who supports or volunteers for the organization he’s representing.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Dusty isn’t married and doesn’t have any children.”

  “You asked him about that?”