“That cinnamon sure smells good,” Keira said when they finally had all the cartons moved downstairs and the pull-down ladder sent back up to fit snugly in the ceiling. She glanced at her watch. “Five o’clock. Time flies when you’re having fun. I could do with a cup of tea and some lemon bars, how about you?”
Back at her house, with the tea made and the boxes dusted and opened, they sat at the table to decide how to do this.
Leah’s cell rang. “Where are you?” Marcus’s voice could be heard across the table.
“At Keira’s having a cup of tea. I’ll be home in a little bit.”
“No rush, but there was no note or anything.”
“Kirsten knew where we were going.”
“Well, she’s up in her room and I didn’t want to disturb her.”
“We found treasures up in the attic at the home place. You’re welcome to join us.”
“There goes the phone again. See you when you get here.”
“Did he sound a mite belligerent at first?” Keira asked, arching an eyebrow. She knew how impatient her brother could be and how he’d worked to curb that tendency for years. She studied her friend. “Is something wrong with Marcus? He wasn’t quite himself at church today either.”
“What with Kirsten and this emergency, he has a lot on his mind.” She paused. “But you know, I cannot keep this secret from him much longer. He is going to be livid when he finds out that he wasn’t told right away. You said you would tell him today.”
“When have I had a chance?”
Leah gave her one of those looks.
Keira heaved a sigh. “This is for his own good. I hate to destroy his reverence for his mother.”
“I think he needs to be the one to make that choice.” Leah picked up the cut-out picture and stared at it again. “This has to be him. Why else would he be cut out?”
“She was playing paper dolls?” Keira rolled her eyes. “I know, flippant never helps but I keep thinking of him as That Man. I want to know who he is. I have to learn as much as I can.”
“I understand that, I guess, but it can’t be at Marcus’s expense.” Leah shrugged. “Let’s at least start. We can each take a box.” She opened the flaps on the one nearest her. Cards, all sorts of greeting cards. She dug down a ways. “This will take time. What about yours?”
“Packets, bigger envelopes of…” She opened one and found old receipts, papers. She checked the dates. “Back in the forties and fifties. Some earlier, I think.” She set the envelope back in the box. “Who knows what we’ll find here.” Please, Lord, let there be some clues for me. What if That Man is still alive?
Chapter Fourteen
What am I going to do?
Kirsten stared at the sampler she’d hung on the wall last night. Pansies, like the ones in the quilt covering her. Like the ones she’d helped her grandmother plant out at the home place. Kirsten had managed not to think about her situation—at least as well as she could—putting it off until after graduation. She wished she could keep putting it off. She wished someone could just tell her what she should do. What would Grandma say to do? She had never said much regarding the abortion issue. For several years the entire family was involved in fighting legislation to legalize abortion. Her father preached against it, they all marched against it, sent out letters. She heaved a sigh.
And here she was in that same predicament they had fought against. Like Tandy, who’d had an abortion, said, over and done with and her life could go on. It sounded so easy.
Unless you believed that was really a baby inside you. She laid a hand on her abdomen. Believing there was really a new life growing inside of her was so difficult. But she hardly thought of anything else. She should never have told her parents. Then if she’d had the abortion, they would never have known, and it would have saved them a lot of heartache. They would have thought she had the flu or something. But the Bible said God knew, He watched over His children even in the mother’s womb.
Thou shall not kill.
But scraping a few cells out, that’s all it was. Just a mass of cells so far. She’d read that more than once, and that was what Tandy said. Just cells. You wouldn’t even be able to see them, really.
But God already had a name for this child. So why did you let me get pregnant? You could have stopped it. Right. Like it was God’s fault she and José got carried away. For two people who were so smart, how could they be so stupid as to think it wouldn’t happen to them? So stupid, so very stupid. She mopped tears that burst forth like they’d been dammed up. She’d awakened crying during the night too. One time. Other girls slept around and they didn’t get pregnant. Because most of them were on the pill.
She’d been proud that she wasn’t on the pill. Pride, another one of those downfall things. “Pride goes before a fall.” Well, they had fallen all right. Big time with forever consequences.
We broke our vow. I broke my vow. A vow of chastity, that I would remain a virgin until my wedding night. She blew her nose, the pile of tissues on the floor growing. She should have moved her wastebasket closer.
She scrubbed at the tears that were leaking into her ears, one hand stroking Patches. Finally she reached over and picked up her goals notebook, with the pen in the binding. Scooting up against the pillows at the headboard, she sniffed and blew again. Flipping to the last used page, she posted the date. Goal one: get as much information as possible. So under that she wrote, “go to the pregnancy counseling center.” She wanted to talk to someone who wasn’t her family, someone who didn’t get hurt from what she asked or said. She deserved any hurt she received.
What about José? That was another question deviling her. As the father, shouldn’t he be included in the—in the process?
The men and the truck might be home already. But if they were, he would have called.
Her mind spiraled backward again. He didn’t get it when she asked him not to call. She didn’t get it either but that’s the way she felt. She’d asked herself if she was blaming him, and yes, she was, but not any more than she was blaming herself. Life would be so much easier if she could blame someone else.
At least she’d had Saturday and Sunday without a mention from anyone. Except the monster inside screaming at her that her life was ruined. Back to her goal book. Goal two: make a decision. One decision she’d already made. She was not telling José what she planned to do today. Not José or anyone else.
“Well, Patches, I need to get up.” She threw back the covers and headed for the bathroom.
Sometime later, walking into the kitchen, she found her mother with her head in the refrigerator. “Morning.”
“I know there was a jar of relish in here and now I can’t find it.” Leah stepped back and closed the door. “You ready for some breakfast?”
Kirsten nodded. “Where’s Dad?” Monday was usually his day off, but she didn’t want to talk to him right now anyway.
“There’s a group meeting at the church regarding the relief efforts our church can do. They’re talking about sending a construction crew down there to help out.” She turned the heat on under the teakettle. “There’s coffee but it’s a couple hours old. I can make new. Oh, but the caffeine isn’t good for…”
“Tea sounds better anyway. I’ll just make some toast.”
While her mother was making breakfast, Kirsten sat down at the table. Step one. “May I use your car today?”
“Sure.” Leah set the plates in front of them both.
“Thanks. Do you need anything from the store?”
“I’ll make a list.” When the teakettle screamed, she poured the boiling water into two mugs and set them on the table, shoving the basket of tea bags over.
Kirsten bowed her head. To her regular grace, she added, Please help me, Lord. Amen. She broke off a piece of her toast. “Lindsey said that she might be getting a summer job in Mayfield at the nursery.” Anything to keep this sounding as normal as possible. Especially since all she wanted to do was throw herself in her mother�
��s arms and scream and cry and do whatever it took to get the demon off her shoulders.
“Good for her. Is she planning on college in the fall?”
“Community college, probably. She’s hoping to go to State, but she still has no idea what she wants to do yet.” Kirsten stirred her tea and removed the tea bag.
“What is José planning?”
“Well, after the missions trip, he’ll be lifeguarding at the pool again. They gave him a break.” Kirsten stared at her mother. “Do you think I can still go on the missions trip?”
Leah kept silent for a long minute before looking up. “I don’t know, Kirsten. I think we should talk to the doctor about that. There are a lot of parasites in the food and water down there. Have you scheduled an appointment with Dr. Youngstrom?”
“Not yet. Pretty soon everyone is going to know.” Kirsten pushed her plate away. “Thanks for the breakfast. I’ll brush my teeth and then I’m ready to leave, if that’s okay.” She clamped her teeth hard, turning away before the tears could explode.
“I’ll get the list made.”
Maybe an abortion would be the best route, Kirsten thought as she stood in the bathroom. Kirsten Marie Sorenson, how can you even think such a thing?
Back downstairs, Kirsten kissed her mother’s cheek and picked up the list. “How about Rocky Road?”
“If you like. We have some vanilla left.” Ice cream was a favorite evening snack for the whole family. In the summer they made their own with an electric motor–driven freezer out on the back porch. They used to have a crank one but when the boys moved out, Dad found the electric one at a rummage sale.
“I’m going to plant the garden today and could sure use some help.”
“I’ll hurry.” Once in the car, Kirsten entered the address in the GPS and headed east. Following the female voice’s instructions, she parked in the parking lot of the Pregnancy Counseling Center and took in a few deep breaths, hoping that courage would come with them. Thankful there were no other cars in the lot, she hurried inside and up to the reception window.
“I’d like to see a counselor, please,” she told the woman after the greetings.
“Well, you came to the right place. If you would fill this out, I’ll go see who is available.”
Kirsten took the clipboard and sat down. Did she really want to give them all this information? She printed her name, address, and phone number and read on through the remainder of the questions. Some she didn’t know the answers to, some she didn’t want to answer. She took the clipboard back to the window. “Do I have to fill this all out?”
“No, not right now. They’ll be calling for you any minute.”
Kirsten picked up a magazine, without even looking at the cover. Her shaking hand made the pages rattle. I don’t belong here. This can’t be happening to me.
“Kirsten?”
“Yes.” She stood and tried to smile but her mouth didn’t work right. She followed the woman to the door she indicated.
“Your counselor today is Mrs. Nimitz. She’ll be right with you.”
At least it wasn’t an examining room but an office. Kirsten took one of the chairs beside the desk and glanced around the room. Scenic pictures on the walls, a half-filled bookshelf with a carved wooden dolphin leaping from the water on one shelf, pictures of a family on another.
“Hello, Kirsten. I’m Sharon Nimitz.” The woman held out her hand, so Kirsten shook it. “You mind if I sit right here?”
A shrug was all she managed. At least Mrs. Nimitz wasn’t wearing scrubs or a lab coat. Instead she wore Dockers, a crewneck cotton sweater, and a smile that set Kirsten more at ease. After all, she was only here for information.
“I see you didn’t fill in all the blanks. Do you mind if I ask you a few more questions?”
“No.”
“How old are you, Kirsten? That is the way to pronounce your name, right?”
“Yes, and I will be eighteen this month, the thirty-first.”
“And I take it you are sexually active?”
“Well… yes, but only once.”
“Yes, in this instance. You think you are pregnant?”
“I did the test three times, they all said I am.”
“How long since your period?”
“Well, I… I mean we…” Kirsten swallowed hard to clear her throat. “I had a hard time figuring it out. I’ve not been regular, you see.”
“You’re an athlete?”
Kirsten nodded. “This happens a lot, I mean irregular periods. And besides, maybe stress and I—um—was bulimic for a while.” She blew out a breath. How to keep going. “So I think two but possibly three.”
“I see. So you don’t keep a record?”
“Not usually. I didn’t have any reason to keep a record before—before this.”
“And do your parents know?”
“I told them after I took the test.”
“Do they know you are here?”
Kirsten shook her head. “I came for some information.”
“You’ll be a senior next year?”
“No, I graduated two days ago.”
“Good for you. What are your plans?”
“I’m planning college and pre-med.”
“Having a baby could really make that difficult, couldn’t it?”
Kirsten nodded. Her foot twitched like it was just itching to leave the room.
“You understand that what you are carrying right now is not a baby—yet.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s a cluster of nonviable cells. You’ve had a sex education class, right? So you understand the sperm and the egg.”
“Yes. But I want to know what happens here.”
“The nonviable cell mass is removed and you go on about your life. You might have some mild cramping afterward but no worse than menstrual cramps. We could take care of this tomorrow. If you choose to carry the fetus to term, you will have to choose whether to raise the child yourself or give it up for adoption.”
“If I choose to—to, uh, do my parents have to sign for this?”
“You do not have to tell your parents, or anyone else, for that matter. Not if you wait until you are eighteen.” Sharon leaned forward.
“And if I can’t do this?”
“Then come December, you will have a baby. By then, as I said, you will need to decide whether to keep it or put it up for adoption.”
“A girl at school said she had an abortion. It was no big deal.”
“We make things as easy as possible for you. Shall I set up an appointment for an examination?”
“Well, I think I’m going to have to think about this. I…” Kirsten swallowed, trying to ease the dryness in her throat. It felt like someone had turned up the heater. Or set one right in front of her. She stood and headed for the door, sure that if she didn’t get outside, she would most likely vomit. In the parking lot she sucked in air as if she’d been underwater. We make things easy for you. She could still hear the woman speaking, a gentle voice that stayed in her mind.
Kirsten got back in the car and stared at the sign on the door. Pregnancy Counseling Center. Was that just another name for an abortion center? She should have asked more questions about the other options. Her head fell forward, too heavy to be held up. This sounded so easy. No more worries, no more fear, no angry parents. Who would know? She didn’t need to tell anyone. Girls lost babies all the time, didn’t they? How would she get here? Would Lindsey bring her? That meant she’d have to tell her. Could Lindsey keep a secret? Not usually. How many times had Lindsey said, “Now, I’m not supposed to tell anyone, but…” José? No, he would never agree. Even if she could go through with it in spite of that, she could hardly ask him to be part of it. There was no way to do this alone, someone would have to know.
I know, Father, you are watching over me. I’ve believed that all my life. But is there some way I can hide this, even from you? She started the car and drove back to the main road. She parked in the lot at t
he grocery store on her way home, picked up the things on her mother’s list, and turned into the Lotta Burgers for a cold drink to stop the urge to cough. Or was it gag? After a couple of long sips, she put the car in gear and drove home to sit in the car in the driveway.
If my brothers knew I was contemplating an abortion, they would kill me. But won’t it be just as bad if they knew I got pregnant? If I went back to the clinic, they’d never need to know. It would be like it never happened. She stared at the trellis where the wisteria was spreading tendrils and green leaves on its dead-looking branches. But I’d know. If she told her mother where she had been, what would she say? If her announced pregnancy affected her father so badly, what would this do? But I am not them and they are not me. I don’t want to give up my life to have this baby.
Chapter Fifteen
Marcus, we really need to talk.”
“I know, but we have another meeting tonight and before then, I need to talk to John. He said he found a family willing to come up here, but they weren’t ready when our truck left. They will send them on a truck from one of the other churches.”
Leah watched her husband shuffling papers on his home desk. Was he throwing himself into the relief work so he didn’t have to think about or act on things at home? This wasn’t like him, but then he’d never faced such a situation before. “Supper is nearly ready.”
“Good.”
But she could tell his mind was off, running in ten or more different directions. Returning to the kitchen, she turned the burner down on the potatoes and checked the pork chops. She stretched her back, with her fists in the middle at the waist, rubbing the sore places out. The early days of gardening did that. Good thing she’d had Kirsten helping her; it went so much faster. She’d gotten the peas in earlier in the year like she planned, and now they needed stringing. The bush pea pods were already branching out. The thought of fresh peas made her mouth water.
At least she could now talk this problem with Kirsten over with Keira, especially since her other sounding board was keeping as busy as possible and to himself. The only bad thing about planting a garden was all the thinking time available. What would they do? What was Kirsten thinking? How much easier life would be if she didn’t have the beliefs she did. Well, that was a stupid thought, life without God would be intolerable.
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