26

Christina was stuffed, which made the already bloated feeling she had just being seven months pregnant even worse. But she didn’t care. Nothing could take away the excitement she felt being moments away from getting the key to her new apartment.

Her new apartment in River Oaks.

What would her mother say if she saw her now, living in a place like this? One of the last things her mother did say when Christina left her in New York with her latest boyfriend was, “You go down to Florida and I guarantee you, you’ll be homeless or else a prostitute before you know it.” Always a source of encouragement, her mom. But Christina didn’t want to think about that now.

She walked out of the main house into the backyard and stood under a shaded patio facing a gorgeous pool. The whole backyard was beautifully landscaped, like a scene out of a magazine. To the right was the cozy garage apartment. She remembered the living room had a nice view of the pool. Looking the way she did, she had serious doubts whether she’d be using it before the weather changed and it got too cold.

Just to be able to see it every day would be something. To be able to walk outside in the morning, every morning, and see what she was seeing now. To walk across the lush green grass and onto the stone patio surrounding the pool and sip coffee at the wrought-iron table. It would even make decaf bearable. To enjoy the beautiful garden areas outlining the pool, the tall white fence and the garage. Marilyn had said Christina could work in the garden as often as she wanted.

It was like a dream.

“You ready?”

She turned toward the voice. It was Doug. She hadn’t heard the door that led inside to the apartment steps open. “You mean to get my stuff upstairs?”

“Yeah. Got my stuff all loaded into the car. I’m all yours.”

Wouldn’t that be nice, she thought. No, stop. “We’ve got to go to the front of the house. My car’s parked in the street.”

“I tell you what,” Doug said, “how about we switch? I’m heading back to school right after this. I’ll go pull my car around to the front of the house, and you drive yours into the open parking space in the garage. That way, I won’t have to walk so far carrying your boxes.”

“That’s a great idea. But after you leave, how will I get my car in and out of the garage?”

“I’m glad you mentioned that. I’ll talk to my dad. I think he has a spare garage door opener somewhere in the house. I’d give you mine, but it’s built into my rearview mirror. They just plugged in some kind of code to get it to recognize our door.”

“Okay.” How exciting, her own garage door opener. Her car had never spent a night indoors. Of course, it hardly belonged next to the two cars in there now. But still . . . starting today, she would be parking her car in a garage.

“So I’ll go move my Mazda now, and you go move your car.” Doug turned to head back inside. “But hey, if you see my dad in there, ask him about that door opener. Once I leave, you won’t be able to close the big door without it.”

“I will.” She hurried back into the house. Tom, Jean, and the kids were upstairs. Michele and her mother were watching something on TV, looked like a Hallmark movie. She didn’t see Jim anywhere.

When Marilyn looked up, Christina told her what they were doing, then asked, “Is Jim still here?”

“He just laid down for a nap,” Marilyn said. “Why?”

Christina told her about the garage door opener and what Doug had said. “But I can get it later.”

“He can’t be asleep yet,” Marilyn said. “I’ll go see. Even if he is, I think I know where it is.” She got up. “Could you pause it, Michele? I’ll be right back. You go take care of what you need to, Christina. If I find it, I’ll bring it out to you.”

“I don’t want to interrupt your movie,” she said. “You can just leave it on the counter near the back door there, and I’ll get it after.” Christina walked across the living room and out the front door.

After they’d switched the cars, it took Doug less than fifteen minutes to carry all her stuff up the stairs. He wouldn’t let her lift a thing.

“You do realize,” she said, “I loaded all that stuff into my car by myself this morning. And I carried it down some rusty metal steps, not this plush carpeting.”

“That’s because I wasn’t there,” he said.

“Guess that smothering thing runs in the family,” Christina said. Of course, when Doug had used that phrase earlier, he’d included the words “with love” on the end. That wouldn’t quite work here. But she sure did love being treated this way. Seeing the muscles in his arms and back flex carrying those boxes up the stairs did nothing to lessen the growing attraction she’d begun to feel for him.

She knew there was nothing to it on his end. He was just raised right. All she had ever known were guys raised totally wrong.

He looked at the pile of boxes in the center of the living room. “How about I move these into the rooms where they go? Might as well put me to work while I’m here.” He looked more closely at them. “I don’t see any rooms written down.”

“Doug, it’s not that big of a project. I really appreciate your help. Seriously, I mean that. But I can take it from here.” She walked into the kitchen. “You look like you could use a cold drink. I haven’t had any time to shop, and I’m not sure the tenant who lived here before me left anything good in the fridge.”

He laughed. “I doubt it. I heard that guy was a total loser.”

She opened the refrigerator. It was empty. “Well, at least it’s clean.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll get something in the house when I say good-bye to my folks.” He walked toward the stairwell, then turned. “Say, Christina, you don’t need to answer this if you don’t want to. Maybe I am being nosy like my mom said at dinner. But you were talking about that big decision you made recently about your . . . baby, when my mom cut you off. You said something about my sister, Michele, helping you make it. Mind telling me what it was? You know, whether or not you’re keeping the baby?”

She didn’t mind answering this question and even remembered telling him he could ask her about it later. For some reason, she wanted to know why he wanted to know. What was fueling his curiosity? But she couldn’t think of how to ask him. She walked toward him and sat on the edge of the sofa. “I don’t think it’s nosy to ask. I was about to tell you before. I’ve decided to place my baby with an adopting couple.”

A surprised look came over his face.

“Did you figure I was gonna keep her and raise her myself?”

“So you know it’s a girl?”

“They told me after I had an ultrasound a few appointments ago.”

“Doesn’t that make it even harder . . . giving it up. I mean, giving her up?”

“You mean, knowing it’s a girl makes it seem more real, like I’m giving up a real person versus an it?”

“I guess. I mean, I know it’s real.” He shook his head. “She’s real. I was just thinking it might make it harder to let her go.”

“It wasn’t a big thing for me. I mean, I know it must be for some people, the way they use words. Like calling an unborn baby it, instead of saying he or she. The clinic I went to before going to the one where your mom works does abortions. I didn’t go there for that, just to see if I was pregnant or not. They did free tests there. They called babies it all the time. Either it or fetus. The unborn fetus. I hate that term. It’s a baby. They use words like it or fetus, because then they don’t have to face the fact that they’re talking about ending the life of a person, a little baby.”

Doug walked over and sat on the edge of an upholstered chair. “I was watching a video during some prolife weekend at the church. Our youth group was serving refreshments. It was a few years ago. They were showing this doctor who performed abortions, but he also delivered babies for patients who wanted to keep them. I thought that was really odd. But even weirder than that, they showed how he changed what he called the baby when he was talking with the mother, based on whether she was having an abortion or keeping the baby. If the mother was having an abortion, he called it a fetus. If she was planning to keep it, he called it ‘your baby.’”

“See,” Christina said, “that’s exactly what I’m talking about. It’s a baby. It’s always a baby.” She patted her stomach. “That’s what’s in here, a baby. Whether I keep her and raise her as a single mom or let another couple, a married couple, raise her as their own, she’s always a baby.”

“I like that,” Doug said. “I can tell you feel strongly about it.”

“I really do. And I think because I do, it was easier for me to make the decision I made.”

“You mean giving her up for adoption?”

Christina nodded. Suddenly her emotions began to kick in. She didn’t want them to, but she couldn’t stop them. Maybe it was just the way Doug said “adoption.” She hated how it sounded. But she still knew it was the right thing to do, the only thing she could do.

“Are you okay?” he said.

“Yeah. It’s just, I hate being a girl sometimes. But don’t think these tears are because I’m not sure I know what I’m doing. I’m totally sure. Talking with your sister helped, and seeing all these other moms at the playground with their children helped. Seeing kids who had moms and dads who lived in nice places, had decent jobs, who were ready to be parents and planning to be parents. That’s what a baby needs.” Tears fell down her cheeks. “That’s what my baby needs. But that’s not who I am now. I can’t give her that.”

Doug got up and grabbed a napkin off the kitchen counter, handed it to her.

“Someday, I want that to be me. I hope God lets it be me. But I want my baby to have that right away, not years from now.” She wiped her eyes. “She deserves to start off that way. And this way, I can give her that chance.”

Doug stood up. “That’s really something, Christina. And if it matters at all, I agree with you. What you said. All of it. And I respect you for it. I really do. It’s probably the hardest decision a person can ever make.”