A couple of hours later, the front doorbell chimed. Football practice wasn’t over yet, so Sandy knew it couldn’t be Brad. She ran downstairs and peeked through the sidelight. It was Jessica. Sandy opened the door. Jessica came in and gave her a long hug.
“I missed you today,” her friend said. “When are you coming back to school?”
“Let’s go up to my room.”
The two girls had spent countless hours in Sandy’s bedroom talking, giggling, sharing secrets, and staying up late. They sat opposite each other on the floor. Sandy told Jessica she wasn’t going back to Rutland High and went over her educational options.
“The place in Atlanta sounds scary,” Jessica said.
“Yeah, I can’t believe my mom is pushing it. My parents say they aren’t kicking me out of the house, but that’s what it feels like to me.” Sandy took a deep breath before continuing. “I just want to work things out between me and Brad.”
Jessica glanced down at the floor.
“What?” Sandy asked.
“I don’t know,” Jessica replied without looking up. “It may not be anything.”
“What are you talking about?” Sandy asked in alarm. “Tell me.”
Jessica sighed. “I saw Brad talking to Crystal Bradshaw at her locker after second period. I didn’t think anything about it until sixth-period study hall. I had to get a book for that research paper I’m writing on Clara Barton for American history. When I went to the biography section against the back wall, Brad and Crystal were together again, talking and laughing. As soon as Brad saw me, he put his arm around Crystal’s waist, and they moved away. Everybody knows Crystal is a terrible flirt, so it was probably all her fault. I mean, she calls guys on the phone to try to get them to ask her out. Nobody does that.”
Sandy felt the color drain from her face.
“He put his arm around her waist?”
“Yeah.”
“How did he look at her?”
“I don’t know. He seemed uncomfortable.”
“Was that before or after he saw you?”
“Uh, after, I guess.” Jessica ran her fingers through her hair. “Hey, I shouldn’t have said anything about it. You’ve got enough going on without me making it worse.”
“No,” Sandy said, trying to regain her composure. “I need to know what’s going on so I can ask Brad about it. I’m not there at school to keep track of stuff myself. I’m sure he has a good reason for talking to Crystal. You know, I can’t expect him to ignore everyone except me.”
“Yeah, you like to joke around with Barry Maxwell.”
“Barry and I have been friends since kindergarten. There’s never been a bit of romance between us. He’s not my type.”
“And Crystal isn’t Brad’s type. I mean, why would he be interested in her if someone like you is willing to date him?”
“I guess so,” Sandy said without much confidence in her voice.
Shortly before supper, Sandy’s pink phone rang. It was Brad.
“Hey,” he said. “I missed you today.”
“I missed you too. It was super lonely here.” Sandy paused. It didn’t feel right to immediately bring up Crystal.
“I want to see you tonight,” Brad said. “I’ve got a plan.”
Sandy’s heart skipped a beat.
“What kind of plan?”
“Tell your mom that you’ll go to the grocery store to pick up something for her. Before you leave the house, call me and we’ll meet up.”
“Then what?”
“We’ll drive to the overlook. It should be deserted on a weekday evening.”
“I don’t know . . .” Sandy hesitated.
“I have to see you. It’s driving me nuts being apart.”
“And then I’ll come back home?”
Brad was silent for a moment, then laughed.
“What’s funny?” Sandy asked.
“We’re not running off to get married tonight, but we do need to work out the plan.”
Sandy felt embarrassed.
“Okay, but I’ll need to come up with more of a trip than to the grocery store. What are you going to tell your parents when you leave?”
“Nothing. They won’t care. Call me and I’ll meet you.”
Sandy helped her mother set the table for supper.
“Where are the paper napkins?” Sandy asked after checking the usual place.
“We must be out. Use the cloth ones, and I’ll wash them later.”
“Do you want me to go to the store after supper and pick some up?” Sandy asked, trying to sound nonchalant. “I’ve been cooped up in the house all day and need to get out.”
“That’s not necessary, but if you want to go out, you could take a peach pie I baked this afternoon to the nursing home where Mrs. Belhaven is staying. I told the administrator I wanted to donate a dessert as a prize for their bingo tournament later in the week. It would also be good if you could stick your head in for a minute and say hi to Mrs. Belhaven.”
Sandy smiled. “Sure.”
Each time during supper that Sandy thought about her rendezvous with Brad, her heart beat a little bit faster. Her brothers wolfed down their food in between monosyllabic responses to their mother’s questions about school.
“When is Sandy going back to school?” Jack asked. “It’s not fair that she gets to stay at home.”
“We’re not sure,” Sandy’s mother responded. “But while she was home, she washed and folded your dirty clothes.”
“That’s why I couldn’t find my brown shorts,” Ben said.
“They’re in the third drawer of your dresser,” Sandy replied.
“I’d moved them to the second drawer,” Ben said. “The third drawer is where I keep stuff that I don’t wear too much.”
After supper, Sandy didn’t stay in the kitchen to clean up. She went directly upstairs to her bedroom, closed the door, and called Brad.
“Perfect,” he said when she told him about the nursing home. “Great idea. When are you leaving the house?”
“In about ten minutes.”
“See you in the parking lot at the nursing home. I’ll park on the opposite side of the building from the main entrance.”
“But we won’t have time to go to the overlook. The nursing home parking lot will be private enough.”
“Not for what I have in mind.”
“No,” Sandy replied emphatically. “We need to talk, not—”
“Relax, baby,” Brad interrupted. “See you there.”
The peach pie was covered with clear plastic wrap. Sandy could see a few places where the juice had seeped through the top of the brown crust. Her mother had perfected the art of flaky crusts and knew exactly how much sugar to add to fresh peaches without ruining their slight tartness.
“I’m leaving with the pie!” she called down the hallway to her parents’ room.
“Thanks. Don’t go anywhere else!” her mother answered.
Sandy didn’t reply. She carried the pie out of the house and carefully positioned it on the floorboard of the car.
The nursing home was about two miles away. The one-story building was constructed in the shape of a T. There was no sign of Brad’s car when Sandy parked on the right-hand side of the building.
She delivered the pie to a woman on duty in the administrator’s office, then went down the hallway to Mrs. Belhaven’s room. The door was closed, and Sandy cracked it open. The elderly woman was asleep on her back with her mouth open. Sandy tiptoed into the room and wrote a short note on a pad to let her know that she’d stopped by.
When she left the building, Sandy saw Brad’s car. He’d backed into a space beside her VW. Sandy looked both ways as she crossed the parking lot. No one was in sight. Brad was wearing a Rutland High baseball cap. He leaned over and unlocked the passenger door of his car as she approached.
As soon as she got in the car, Brad leaned over, put his hand behind her head, and gave her a kiss. Sandy responded for a moment, then pulled back.
“What’s wrong?” Brad asked.
“It feels weird kissing in the parking lot of the nursing home.”
“That’s why we should go to the overlook.”
Sandy shook her head. “Not tonight. I can’t stay out long.”
Brad shrugged. “Pretty soon we’ll be kissing whenever and wherever we want.” He took a sheet of paper from his pocket. “During study hall I wrote down some stuff we need to talk about.”
“Was that before or after you hung out with Crystal Bradshaw?”
Brad’s eyes narrowed. “I knew Jessica would tattle to you about that and turn it into a big deal. Look, Crystal is a cool girl, but there’s nothing between us. She knows what we’re going through and was decent enough to call me and tell me everything is going to be okay. That’s way better than the people who are talking behind our backs and running us down.”
“She called you at home?”
“Yeah.”
“How many times?”
“Not that many. Come on, Sandy. I didn’t want to get together with you to talk about Crystal.”
“Okay,” Sandy replied defensively. “But not being at school makes me worry about things—”
“That you shouldn’t worry about.” Brad glanced down at the sheet of paper. “I’ve written down the name, phone number, and address of the clinic in Atlanta. I talked to the lady again this afternoon, and she says there’s no reason for you to wait until after we’re married to have the abortion. That makes sense to me. Then we can get married, and have an awesome honeymoon. It would be weird being together and knowing you’re pregnant. After we were married, I thought we could call our parents and tell them we’re going to the mountains for a few days. They have these honeymoon cabins in Gatlinburg—”
“Please,” Sandy interrupted. “You’re going too fast.”
“Hey, it’s my job as the man to plan our future.”
“But I haven’t decided if I’m going to have an abortion.”
Brad’s mouth dropped open. “Why not?”
Sandy told him about the sleeping pill incident.
“So?” Brad replied. “You were half asleep. That’s not the best time to make a big decision.”
Sandy placed her hand on her stomach.
“I just can’t think about the baby as a glob of cells.”
“But that’s what it is. The woman at the clinic told me they use a vacuum cleaner sort of thing that sucks it out in a few seconds.”
Sandy felt suddenly nauseated. She put her hand to her mouth.
Brad spoke slowly. “I told you in the school parking lot that I wasn’t ready to be a father. Bringing a kid into our lives makes no sense.” He pointed at Sandy’s abdomen. “You’re going to have to choose between me and it.”
Sandy swallowed. She wanted to cave in but couldn’t force the words out of her mouth.
“What if I let someone adopt the baby?” she asked hopefully. “My aunt in Atlanta has offered to let me stay with her until the baby is born and adopted out. Then we could get married.”
“I’m not going to put my life on hold for nine months while you’re in Atlanta.”
“It’s only seven months. I’m already eight weeks along.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Brad frowned. “Once you have a kid, you’re used up.”
Sandy stared at him in shock.
“Used up?” she asked.
Brad turned away. A horrible thought hit Sandy.
“Do you really want to marry me, or are you just trying to talk me into getting an abortion and then you’ll dump me?”
Brad faced her.
“You’re psycho,” he spat. “Get out of the car.”
“It was just a question.” Sandy felt panic rising up in her throat.
“And I’m not going to answer it. I don’t have to put up with your stupid jealousy about Crystal and craziness about a baby. This pregnancy thing has turned you into a different girl, and I don’t like her. If you’re not going to go along with my plan, we’re finished.”
Sandy didn’t know what to say. Shaking, she put her hand on the door handle.
“If you change your mind, call me before you go to bed. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll rip up this sheet of paper, because it’ll be over between us.”
Sandy drove home through a haze of tears. She dried her face with a tissue before she went inside the house, but when she glanced in the rearview mirror, she saw that her eyes were bloodshot. She quietly opened the front door and tiptoed toward the staircase.
“Sandy!” her mother’s voice called out from the kitchen.
“I’m here!” Sandy said, her left foot on the first stair.
Her mother came into the foyer.
“How did it go at the nursing home?”
For a split second Sandy thought her mother knew about the meeting with Brad.
“Uh, I delivered the pie. Mrs. Belhaven was asleep, but I left her a note.”
“Why were you gone so long?”
Sandy turned her head slightly.
“You’ve been crying,” her mother said, concern coming into her voice. “What happened?”
Sandy plopped down on the second step of the stairs as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.
“I saw Brad.”
She buried her face in her hands. Her mother joined her and put her right arm around Sandy’s shoulders. Her mother left for a moment and returned with several tissues that she pressed into Sandy’s hand.
“He says we’re finished unless I get an abortion,” Sandy said, her chest still heaving. “Did you know they use a thing like a vacuum cleaner to—”
Sandy couldn’t say the words. Her mother began to gently massage her upper back.
“He says he wants to marry me,” Sandy continued. “But he’s not ready to be a father.”
“Do you think he’s ready to be a husband?” her mother asked softly.
Sandy thought back to the conversation in the car. She’d felt bullied and belittled.
“No, and I don’t think I’m ready to be a wife and mother either.”
She stared at the front door where Brad and his family had stormed out of the house.
“Brad said I was crazy. Maybe I am. But what he wanted us to do was crazy.” She turned toward her mother. “I couldn’t make myself go along with him. I love him, but I don’t trust him.”
“Then trust your heart.”
“I don’t know what it’s saying.”
“I think you do.”
Sandy shook her head, then remembered what had happened the previous night at the top of the stairs. Brad’s words rang hollow compared to what she’d felt in that moment about the baby she was carrying. Every cell in her body rebelled against the idea of harming the life inside.
Her mother slipped from her seat on the stairs and knelt at Sandy’s feet. She took Sandy’s hands in hers. Tears pooled in her mother’s eyes.
“Mama, don’t,” Sandy protested.
“Sandy, we love you. And I’ve—”
“I know, I know—” Sandy tried to stop her.
“Let me finish. I’ve treasured every moment of your life from the time I first saw you as a tiny infant in the hospital to watching you run onto the football field as head cheerleader two weeks ago. I don’t want you to leave our home. I’ll miss you terribly. But sometimes love doesn’t get what it wants; it has to do what’s best.”
Her mother’s words had a calming effect on Sandy.
“You really think I should stay with Linda and place the baby for adoption?” she asked.
Her mother put her fingers to Sandy’s lips and shook her head.
“Don’t say anything now. Wait until you’re sure in your own heart.”
Later in her bedroom, Sandy stared at her pink phone and tried to visualize herself picking up the receiver to call Brad. Each time she played out a possible conversation, it ended with an argument. Suddenly, the phone rang. Sandy jumped. It continued to ring as she debated whether to answer. Finally, deciding she’d regret not finding out what Brad had to say, she picked up the receiver.
“Hey.”
“Sandy, it’s Linda,” her aunt said in her crisp voice. “I hope it’s all right to call your personal number. I know you like to use the phone in your bedroom for conversations with your friends.”
Sandy sat on the edge of the bed.
“No, it’s fine. I’ve not been getting a lot of calls from my friends. I don’t think they know what to say.”
“I understand. Well, I’m not ready to stamp a scarlet letter on your forehead, and if you decide to accept my invitation to live with me, you’re not going to get any lectures about the mistakes you’ve made. I assume you’ve figured that out on your own.”
“Yes.”
“Good. That doesn’t mean I’ll pamper you either. I intend to treat you like an adult.”
“I don’t feel like an adult.”
“You aren’t, but we’re going to start pretending that you are. Your grandmother taught your mother and me that adversity is the crucible for character formation. That’s what I want to see happen in your life over the next few months.”
Sandy wasn’t sure exactly what Linda meant. It sounded like a threat, but the words weren’t spoken in a threatening way.
“Did Mama ask you to call me?”
“No, we haven’t talked since yesterday morning.”
Sandy paused for a moment.
“Thanks for inviting me to stay with you,” she said. “It’s very generous of you.”
“It was one of those things that can’t be logically explained. I immediately knew I had to extend the offer. It’s up to you and your parents whether to accept.”
“Mama is letting me decide.”
“Good. I know that’s hard for her to do. Whatever you choose, I’m going to support you.”
When the phone call ended, Sandy slowly lowered the receiver into the cradle. Linda had always scared Sandy. Her father thought she was a busybody. But now, for the first time, Sandy saw how being around someone strong like her aunt might be good for her.
Sandy didn’t call Brad. He didn’t call her. Crawling into bed, she dreaded the return of the frantic anxiety that had harassed her the previous night. However, no night terrors assaulted her. She closed her eyes and woke up with the hazy rays of early morning light peeking through her window.
Within a few minutes, she was in the bathroom throwing up. When she finished, she went downstairs and told her mother and father that she wanted to go to Atlanta, the sooner the better.
“Are you sure?” her mother asked.
“Yes.” Sandy touched her heart. “It’s the only thing I can think about that feels right in here.”
Her mother looked at her father and raised her eyebrows.
“Okay,” he replied, throwing his hands up in the air. “If she can survive seven months with Linda, she’ll be able to handle anything life throws at her down the road.”