| |
"No, Liz, I don't think your decision to give your baby up for adoption is the wrong one." Scottlyn's heart nearly broke when she saw the sadness in the fifteen-year-old's wide green eyes.
"Are you sure? I mean..." She stopped to rub a belly that looked ready to burst. "I watch how good you are with Mercie, and I almost think I could raise my son."
Scottlyn glanced around the large library at the Choose Life Shelter. She came here every Tuesday evening to help tutor the students, to try and repay a small portion of the kindness she'd been shown. Tonight the room held a dozen pregnant teenagers, a dozen different stories, a dozen different paths. Father, please give me the right words.
She put an arm around Liz's shoulder. "I think it's normal to second guess your decisions this close to your due date, but you need to think with your head, not your heart. You've got two years of school to finish. Your mom's doing everything she can just to provide for you and your sisters. Is it fair to her to add another mouth to feed?"
Elizabeth lowered her eyes and shook her head. Scottlyn saw a tear drip from the younger girl's chin.
"Did Dad's parents change their minds about helping?"
"He's just fourteen..."
Sorrow filled her heart. Parents at fifteen and fourteen. What had these kids been thinking? Scottlyn squeezed the skinny shoulders. "Not aborting your baby was the right choice. I think adoption is the right choice too. Didn't you tell me that the adoptive parents agreed to an open adoption?"
Liz swiped her face with the sleeve of her shirt. "They said I could see him at birthdays and Christmas if I want, and they promised to send me a new picture once a month."
Two visits a year and a couple of pictures. Is that what's waiting in my future? Scottlyn swallowed back the bitter thought and put her arm around Liz, focusing on what would be the ideal arrangement for the younger girl. "That's a pretty good plan." She steered Liz to a side table, plucked a tissue from a box, and pressed it into her hand. "I don't want to sound preachy, but I think you need to pray about this. A lot. I know it's hard to think about giving him up, but think about the couple that wants to make a family with him. How will they feel if you change your mind? Can you give him the sort of life they can? I know those are hard questions, but if you listen close, God will give you answers everyone can live with. Do you have your phone with you?"
Liz nodded and dug a phone from her pocket. Scottlyn took it, tapped on an icon, and entered her contact information. She handed the phone back and waited until Liz lifted her eyes back to hers. "You call me any time you need to talk, or even if you just want someone to pray with you."
The younger girl shrugged. "OK."
Scottlyn caught a glimpse of one of the center's directors entering the front door. "I need to run and speak to Mrs. Hatter for a second. I'm praying for you, OK?"
"Thanks."
She squeezed Liz's hand and hurried out of the room, catching Millicent Hatter on her way to the kitchen.
"Mrs. Hatter, wait up."
Millicent Hatter, Principal of Eden Heights Christian Academy and co-director for the Choose Life Pregnancy Shelter, was sixtyish, slender, and five foot nothing in her stocking feet. Dressed in her traditional two piece suit—tonight's selection a pale peach—she turned in the kitchen doorway and focused a mega-watt smile on Scottlyn. She opened her arms wide. "Oh, come here, dear girl."
Scottlyn stepped into the older woman's embrace and received an almost bone crushing hug. She gave as good as she got. "I miss seeing you every day."
Mrs. Hatter nodded. "Schools only been out for two weeks, but I know what you mean. I always miss my graduates. It's a nice perk that I get to see you here." She held Scottlyn at arms- length. "Has anyone told you, tonight, how grateful we are for your time? Summer school homework is drudgery for most of the girls. A little help goes a long way."
Scottlyn grinned. "Not tonight, but I enjoy it. Coming here gives me the chance to share my experiences. I might even call it selfish, since every girl I help, helps me in return." She looked back down the hall, then leaned in to whisper into Mrs. Hatter's ear. "You might say an extra prayer for Liz. She's really conflicted right now."
"That poor child. Of course I'm praying, but I'll keep an extra eye on her. I know she'll do the right thing when the time comes. Now, come join me for a cup of our horrible institutional coffee and tell me what you've been up to since graduation."
Scottlyn allowed herself to be pulled into the dining room. The older woman poured a cup of black coffee and took a seat at the large table. Scottlyn treated her drink to suitable amounts of sugar and creamer and snagged a couple of napkins and cookies from the bar before she took a seat next to her friend. She handed a cookie across before dunking hers in her coffee.
Millicent Hatter sipped her drink and set the cup aside. "So, what's up with you?"
"Not much, just taking care of the baby and trying to get my college plans in order."
The old teacher grinned, her expression mischievous. She leaned forward. "Really? Just college and baby? I know you young people like to think my generation lives under a rock, but I could have sworn I saw a Facebook notice just last week about you being in a new relationship with a certain handsome journalism student."
Scottlyn met the grin with one of her own. "Saw that, did you?" She held out her arm to display the bracelet. "He gave me this. Called it a token of his feelings." Her sigh filled the room. "He's so romantic...I like it!"
Mrs. Hatter took Scottlyn's hand, turning it this way and that to admire the bracelet. "I imagine so. Romance is almost a lost art these days. You're a lucky girl." She released Scottlyn's hand and pushed back from the table. "I'm sorry to run, but I need to get up to the third floor, we're having a board meeting in an hour, and I have to get our financial report ready."
Scottlyn nodded her understanding. "Don't be late on my account, but I am glad I ran into you." She fished a stack of cards from her bag, flipped through them, and handed one across the table.
"What's this?"
"An invitation to Mercie's birthday party next Saturday. I was going to mail them out tomorrow. You saved me a stamp."
"Wonderful, I'll be there with bells on." She stood and bent to pick up her cup.
"Don't worry about it," Scottlyn said. "I'll clean up here. You get started on your report."
"Thank you, dear. I'll see you Saturday."
Scottlyn watched the older woman retreat before cleaning up their snack. Satisfied that everything was tidy, she reached for her purse. It was almost Mercie's bedtime, and she needed to get home. The William Tell Overture sounded from the depths of the bag. She fished through make up, pacifiers, and wipes, finally bringing the phone out where she could see it. The number on the screen made her hands shake. Her suddenly nervous fingers stabbed at the icon four times before the call connected.
"Hello."
"Scottlyn, it's Grant's dad. We have a court date set for two p.m. a week from Friday. Can you stop by my office tomorrow after lunch? There are some things I need to prepare you for."
***
"HEY, CHECK THIS OUT."
Scottlyn looked up from a shelf of party favors. Grant stood in the aisle wearing a rainbow-colored sombrero and a plastic mustache attached to goofy glasses. He danced in front of her, heedless of the other shoppers. No one had to tell her that her answering grin was half- hearted.
"Cute." She turned back to the shelf. Mercie's party was tomorrow, and she still had favors, balloons, and ice cream to buy. What sort of favors did you buy for a bunch of toddlers? She sifted through noisemakers, multicolored beads, and small plastic puzzles. Too many little pieces.
She felt a presence behind her a second before Grant's arms slipped around her waist. "Scottie."
Scottlyn leaned into the embrace, warmed as much by the nickname as the hug.
"Scottie," he repeated. "I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do to cheer you up?"
She tossed seven small stuffed animals and seven grapefruit-sized plastic balls into the cart. More than she wanted to spend, but hey, it might be the only party she got to plan for her baby, and by George, it was going to be perfect.
A hand waved in front of her face. "Earth to Scottlyn."
She acknowledged his effort with a sigh. How could she make him understand her worry? "The department of child services came to the house today."
Grant took a step back, cocked his head to the side, and reached a hand up to run a finger over the spot between her brows. "That explains the frown."
"Yeah." Scottlyn turned away, grabbed the bar of the cart, and shoved it down the aisle. "Just part of the process." She shrugged. "Your dad warned me that they'd be coming, but it still unnerved me. The lady was nice enough, but I didn't enjoy her poking around the house, and she asked a ton of questions. Where does the baby play, where does she sleep, are there pets in the house, do we have a gate to keep her out of the kitchen?" She stopped and faced him with her hands on her hips. "A pet? I've talked it over with Diana. I was going to get Mercie a puppy soon. Guess that's out of the question."
Grant pulled her to his side. "I'm so sorry they're putting you through this."
Scottlyn looked up into his serious dark eyes. Snap out of it girlfriend. You've got a serious hunk by your side, and that social worker didn't find a single thing out of place. She linked her arm with his and bumped him hip to hip. "I'm the one who's sorry. This whole thing is just...scary, and the biggest reason I didn't agree to a movie tonight. I know Diana enjoys her alone time with Mercie, but I couldn't think about being away from my daughter for the whole evening." She gave him a smile. "I'm done with the mulligrubs tonight. You were sweet enough to understand about the movie and bring me shopping instead. I promise I'm going to try and be more positive."
"How could you not be worried? The outcome of this could change your whole life." He closed his eyes and pressed his palm to his forehead. "That came out wrong. I—"
"You're fine." This guy...my guy...is so adorable. "I trust your dad...and God. But I've got to be honest. Every day this drags out...it's just hard not to hate these people."
"Hate is a valid emotion, but by this time next week, it'll all be settled."
Scottlyn closed her eyes and jerked her head into an affirmative nod. She held up a hand. "In my favor."
His hand smacked against hers. "In your favor."
"Then let's make this party happen!" Crepe paper, party hats, and paper ware emblazoned with clowns joined the growing mound of goodies in the cart. Scottlyn smiled as she pushed the cart to the checkout with her right hand covered by his left on the bar. God, I really am trying to trust You, but I feel so helpless. Thanks for Grant. Having his support on top of Yours makes it a little easier. He's so steady. So not Bradley. I know it's too soon to think about a future with him, but it's hard not to dream.
They loaded their purchases into Grant's pickup and headed for the local Braum's for the ice cream. Scottlyn hesitated over the impressive selection, finally deciding on a carton of chocolate and one of peppermint. She hoisted it in front of Grant. "Little girls gotta have pink ice cream."
"You're the boss." He nodded to the other side of the store where customers stood in line for burgers and ice cream. "Want a cone?"
Scottlyn's eyes cut to the busy food counter. "Oh yeah. Chocolate almond, two scoops on a waffle cone."
"A woman after my own heart. We'll make that two. You get in this line, I'll get in that one."
They met at the truck ten minutes later. Scottlyn put her bag in the back seat of the extended cab and climbed into the passenger seat before leaning over the console to take both cones so he could climb into the tall cab. They drove in silence, and by the time they got to Diana's house, the summer evening had made her treat a dripping mess. She lifted it and tried to catch an errant drop that was racing down the side of the cone. She surfaced to find a wide grin on Grant's face.
"What?"
Grant pointed. "You've got ...um..." He leaned across the console, cupped a hand on the back of her neck, and brought her close. His head tilted, and his lips brushed the corner of her mouth. "Yum. Chocolate and Scottlyn, what a terrific combination."
The touch of his lips sent an electric jolt straight to her heart. Not the old revulsion attributed to the attack, but a honey sweet hope. She pushed him away anyway. "I have napkins."
"The kiss was more fun."
She stared at him in the fading light, the cone forgotten, the air in the pickup charged with something that sent goose bumps parading up her bare arms.
"Scottie, you are so beautiful."
She was speechless when he pulled her close a second time and covered her lips with his.