Even Now (8 page)

Lauren couldn’t wait for Shane to show up at her house that night. She hadn’t told her parents he was coming, and now it was after eleven o’clock and her mom and dad were in bed. Lauren sat by the window watching the rain. It had been a light sprinkle all day, but now the drops were harder, heavier.

Still, the roads were clear. Shane should be there any time.

In her lap was the story she was working on, the latest one. Ever since she could hold a pencil she’d been writing stories — especially when her heart was full of unresolved emotions. She stared at the notebook in her hands and flipped back to the beginning of the story, reading the first page:
Even Now — the Story of Us
by Lauren Gibbs.

A smile tugged at her lips.
Lauren Gibbs
was the name she always used when she wrote. A long time ago she’d read the name in a book and something about it — the way it fit the character or the strength of it — stayed with her.

The day she’d found it she ran up to her dad, struggling to reign in her enthusiasm. “Dad . . . this is the perfect name.”

He was reading the newspaper. The pages crackled in his hands as he bent it in half and lowered it so he could see her. “What’s that?”

“The name in this book.” She held it up. “It’s perfect.”

Slowly he began to open the paper again. His eyes darted from the article to her and back again. “Good, honey.”

“Dad!” She huffed at him. “You’re not listening.”

“What?” The paper fell a few inches, and he looked at her. “Of course I am. You like the book you’re reading.”

“No!” Another huffy breath. “I like the character name in the book.”

He blinked. “Character name?”

“Yes.
Lauren Gibbs
.” She smiled big again. “Isn’t that the greatest name?”

Her dad chuckled a few times. “I think Lauren Anderson is pretty enough.”

Lauren stuffed the memory. Her father didn’t need to see anything special in the name. She made good on her word. Using it on her short stories was a way to leave herself behind. In her mind, Lauren Gibbs wasn’t a seventeen-year-old high school student. She was worldly and wise, with years of education and a fascination with international affairs. She traveled the world and met interesting people from a dozen different cultures.

That was the perspective she wrote from, as if she, like her fictitious alter ego, actually lived such a life.

Her eyes traveled down the page. The first line of the story read: “She watched him from her quiet place at the dinner table. She would remember this day for the rest of time — the day she fell in love with Shane Galanter.”

She heard a car in the distance and shut the cover. Once in a while she shared her stories with Shane, but not this time. They had too much else to work through. She set the notebook down and looked out the window again. This was the big chance they’d been waiting for. His father had told him they could talk about the possibility of him living with one of the baseball players for the next year. That would work perfectly. It meant his parents would be out of the picture. The way his mother treated her lately, it would be nice to have some distance between them. Headlights rounded the corner and she squinted into the dark night. It was him. He pulled his Camry up in front of her house and cut the engine. She watched him get out of the car, watched the way his shoulders slumped forward a little, the way his steps were slow.

She sat up a little straighter and a thought hit her, one she had resisted for the past month. What if his dad hadn’t given him permission? What if they were insisting Shane move with them? They wouldn’t do that, would they? Not when she was wearing his ring. Not when they were engaged to be married.

He was almost to the door, but she reached it first, opening it and motioning for him to be quiet as he stepped inside. Once the door was closed she leaned against it and searched his eyes. “He’s going to let you, right?”

“Lauren.” He looked down, and in that instant the answer was as clear as the Chicago skyline in August. When he lifted his eyes to hers, they were shiny wet. “He wants me to come to LA for my senior year. Just until I’m finished school. Then he’ll do everything he can to help us.”

The room felt wobbly, and she wouldn’t have been surprised to see the ceiling fall down around their ankles. “You . . . you’re leaving? In a month?”

“What else can I do?” A hint of anger colored his tone. “I have nothing, Lauren. No car, no job, no education, not even a lousy twenty dollar bill.” He pulled her close. After a while he leaned back and looked at her again. The sorrow in his eyes was so raw it hurt. “My mom says you’re thinking about giving up the baby?”

She shook her head, frustrated. “Never, Shane. Never once.” Her hands came in tight around his waist and she held him. “Why does she keep saying that?”

“It’s not just her.” His voice was kind, gentle. “Your mom said the same thing.”

“What?”
She took a step back and shook her head. “Is that what you want?”

“Of course not.” He reached for her hands, but she kept her distance. “It’s just . . . for the next year, nothing’s up to us.”

She turned her back to him and stared out the window. A trembling started in her arms and moved to her hands. If Shane was leaving, then maybe she
should
give up the baby. How would she raise it without his support? Her parents had promised their help, but clearly they didn’t approve. The trembling moved down her legs to her knees, and suddenly her entire body was shaking.

He came up and slipped his arms around her, resting his hands on her swollen belly. “I want this baby, Lauren. I wish it were coming ten years from now, but I still want it.” He eased her around so that she was facing him. “Don’t ever think I don’t.”

“You’re really leaving?”

“I won’t give up. I’ll keep looking for away, pushing my dad and trying to make this work somehow until the last minute.” He took her hands in his. “I promise.”

“I know, but — ” her teeth were chattering now — “but if it doesn’t work out, then we only have a month left together.”

“They can take me out of Chicago, but they can’t take me out of your life. So we finish up school, Lauren. Then we’ll be together. My dad promised.”

She wanted to scream or cry or grab him and run as far away as they could get. But they were stuck. The walls closing in a little more every day. She felt the baby move, and it made her eyes fill with tears. “Find a way, Shane.” A sob broke free and she buried her face in his shoulder. “Please. I can’t do this without you.”

He held her, whispering promises that he’d try, that maybe there was something they hadn’t thought about. But in the end, as he drove away that night, she was convinced that she wasn’t the only one who knew the truth about their situation. He knew it too.

Never mind about love. Good-byes were a month away.

T
he days passed like so many minutes, each one colored with a different set of new and frightening emotions.

Some afternoons Lauren drove to the lake with Shane, and they’d walk along the shore talking about forever. They barely noticed the strange looks they drew from people who passed by. With her straight blonde hair, she looked younger than her seventeen years. Whispers came with the territory.

Neither of them cared. They were too caught up in their own world to mind what anyone thought. Even their parents.

“I’m talking to one of my teachers about renting a room,” Shane told her one sunny afternoon as they sat side by side on the beach. “You know her. Mrs. Tilp.”

“Mrs. Tilp, the calculus teacher?” Lauren squinted into the sun. Her abdomen was tight, the baby pressing against her.

“Yeah, she and her husband have an extra room. I heard her talking about it to another teacher. I asked if I could rent it, you know. Through next year. We could get married in the fall and live there together with the baby.”

The possibility sounded doubtful. “Did you tell her it would be you? Or you and me and the baby?”

“Me for now.” He adjusted his baseball cap. “I thought I’d ask about the two of you after she says yes.”

A day later, Shane had the answer. The teacher didn’t want a student boarder. Especially not a minor. Shane’s next attempt was a neighbor three doors down, a retired man who lived by himself.

While the possibilities dwindled one at a time, Lauren refused to believe it wouldn’t somehow work out. At night, when Shane’s school day was over, the two of them were almost always together. They felt uncomfortable in either of their homes, so Shane would pick her up and they’d park someplace to talk.

“What about names?” Shane asked her one night. They’d discussed a few, but hadn’t decided anything. “We need a plan, just in case.”

“In case?” Lauren searched his eyes, and instantly she understood. “You mean if they take you to California?”

He pressed his lips together and nodded. His eyes fell to her belly and then rose again. “I have one.”

This was wonderful, sitting alone with him, pretending they were like any other normal couple about to be parents. She leaned back against the car door and grinned at him. “For a boy or a girl?”

“Girl.”

“Okay, what?” The baby moved inside her, and she set her hands over the area. “Here.” She took his hand and laid it on her belly. “You haven’t felt this yet.”

“Really?” His touch was light as they waited. The baby kicked again, and Shane’s face lit up. “Wow . . . That was amazing.” He put both hands on her now and caressed the place where the baby lay. Then he leaned in and whispered, “Hey, little one, I felt that. You’ve got a strong kick.”

The baby moved again, and the happiness in Lauren was so great she wondered if she was glowing. This was Shane’s first contact with their baby. It made everything about her pregnancy feel normal and real and wonderful. The way it was supposed to feel.

Shane ran his hand over her middle once more and then he leaned back against his door and grinned. “Here it is — Emily.” His eyes shone. “What do you think?”

“I like it.” She pictured her daughter — it was a daughter, she was sure of it — dressed in pink and lace and bearing the sweet, feminine name. Justine or Tabitha had been on her list, something a little modern. But it touched her that Shane had chosen a name. “I didn’t know you were thinking about baby names.”

“I can’t think of anything else.” He gave a weak chuckle. “School’s barely holding my attention because I’m dreaming about you and the baby, when it’ll be born and whether . . . ” His smile faded. “Whether we’ll be together when it happens.”

She ignored that last part. If their parents would let them, she was sure Shane would make the best father ever. Another time when they were together she asked, “What about for a boy?”

“I’m not sure.” He made a curious face. “Maybe Josh or Jared. Something like that.”

The discussions always felt the same to Lauren. Like they were playing house in the shadow of an impending tidal wave. Still, the normalcy of talking about names made the days bearable. Especially when each one drew them closer to his parents’ moving date.

With a week left, the call Lauren had expected all along finally came.

“I have to go.” Shane sounded like he’d been crying. “I’ll finish school in California and then I’ll come find you. Whatever it takes. We’ll figure something out from there.”

Even then she wasn’t ready to give up. All week she tried to talk sense into her parents. “Do something, please!” She took hold of her mother’s hand, her father’s shoulder. “We love each other; we don’t want to be apart. Please, help us.”

Her parents listened and once in a while offered some show of sadness on her behalf. But they never once offered a way out. Lauren cornered her mother in the kitchen one day near the end of that week. “Call the Galanters. Have them over. Tell them we can’t do this living so far apart. Please, Mother.”

“Lauren, things are different. The Galanters have made it clear they want no part of our family.”

It was like the shrinking hallway. No doors. No windows. No way out.

Finally it was Sunday night. Shane and his family were leaving the next morning, and he was on his way over to say goodbye. Lauren headed outside to meet him.

“Stay in, honey,” her mother called from the kitchen. “We want to say good-bye, too.”

“No, you don’t. You could care less if he leaves.” Lauren’s tone was sharp. Things between her and her parents had never been worse. If they didn’t want to help keep Shane around, then what good were they? Everyone was against them. She slammed the door behind her, walked to the end of the sidewalk and waited.

She wore a faded oversized yellow T-shirt and her father’s navy running shorts. Her middle was gigantic, so big it scared her, and even though the air was heavy and hot, she began to shiver. How had things gotten so crazy? Why hadn’t they listened to their youth group past or before, back when they still had time to finish high school like any other kids?

The moon was full that night, casting light through the trees and spraying shadows around the place where she stood. She heard a car in the distance and she squinted at the headlights coming closer. It was him. She knew the sound of his car. When he stopped and climbed out, she knew for sure. He’d been crying. He still was. He shoved his hands in his pockets, walked around the front of his car, and came to her.

“Lauren . . . ” He pulled her into his arms and tried to hug her. But her abdomen was so large that the moment was awkward, and he drew back. “I only have ten minutes. My dad wants the movers to hook the car up to the moving truck.”

She searched his face. “What if we give the baby up, would that make them stay?”

“No.” He ran his fingers along her brow and into her hairline near her temple. “We’ve been over this.” Question marks danced in his eyes. “Do you want to give the baby up?”

“Of course not.” She sniffed and a pounding filled her chest. “But I can’t have the baby on my own, without you. My parents aren’t on my side, Shane.” She took a step back. “I don’t know what to do.”

He felt her hand, moved his thumb across the surface of her engagement ring. “Remember what it says.”