Out with the In Crowd (9 page)

“It depends on why you can’t come.”

“It depends on “I just can’t.”

Maybe Abbie wouldn’t mind me telling Connor about her adoption plans, but I didn’t want to take the chance. Only a couple months ago, she’d flown into a violent rage when she discovered I’d told Connor about her pregnancy. Though, for the record, I hadn’t
intended
to tell Connor about the baby. He’d overheard me asking Heather to pray for our family. But it had been a moot point to Abbie, who didn’t care how word had gotten out, just that it had. Now, for the first time, Abbie and I were getting along. I didn’t want to risk spoiling the peace, even if it meant making Connor mad.

“I want a real reason.”

“Well, I can’t give you one,” I said in a cross voice. “You’re just going to have to trust me that I can’t go.”

“You know, it’d be really good for Jodi to see you there. Eli won’t come with her.”

“Maybe he will. He invited her to church.”

“I guess
he
didn’t, his mom did. Apparently, she liked how he got involved in church again when he started dating you. She thought if Jodi came, he might.”

“Jodi told you this?”

“Eli did. After you left on Sunday.”

“Ah.”

“So, will you?”

“Will I what?”

“Will you come?”

“I told you—I can’t.”

“Fine,” Connor huffed. “Well, you’re not gonna like this, but I told Jodi I’d pick her up.”

My heart hammered. “Why? She’s got a car.”

“I think she’s kinda nervous about showing up by herself. I didn’t think you’d care because I assumed I’d be taking you as well.”

“If I could go, I would. I can’t.” I took a deep breath. “Will you please do me a favor?”

“You want me to back out of picking her up, don’t you?”

Of course I did, but now that he’d guessed it, I felt stupid saying so. I forced myself to take a deep breath. I needed to get my jealousy under control. It had been running rampant since Connor and I had gotten together. I couldn’t live like this any longer. Time for rational thinking.

So, worst-case scenario—Jodi truly was after Connor. That didn’t mean he was forced to like her back. That all his feelings for me vanished just because she batted her long lashes. I should be totally fine with him taking her to youth group. And I would be.

“Just be careful with her,” I said. “She’s most lethal when she’s being nice.”

10

Abbie spoke so quietly, I had to ask her to repeat herself.

“I said, can you just wait out here?” She glanced at me, appearing nervous.

“You don’t want me in there?”

“You don’t want me in She shook her head.

“But . . .” Why didn’t she want me in there? “Don’t you think you’ll want another pair of ears? I mean, they’re going to be throwing a lot of information at you.”

Abbie shook her head again, her gaze already down the hallway where we expected Cindy Sheldon, the pregnancy counselor, to appear at any moment.

“Well . . . okay.” I pulled out
Wuthering Heights
, as if I’d be able to focus.

“Abbie Hoyt?”

A tall woman had appeared in the hall. Her gaze bounced between Abbie and me, the only two people in the waiting room.

“I’m Abbie,” my sister said without budging.

If Abbie’s age surprised her, the woman did a good job hiding it. But of course Abbie had probably already shared her situation.

The woman stuck out her hand, her clear eyes crinkling with a smile. With her crop of dark hair and fair skin, she looked like a modern-day Snow White. “Hi, Abbie, I’m Cindy.” She nodded at me. “Is this a friend of yours?”

A reaction we’d grown used to. Abbie and I shared two things—our last name and a bathroom. She favored our father, fair and auburn, while I carried on Mom’s Hawaiian heritage.

“This is my sister, Skylar.”

Cindy offered her hand to me as well. “A pleasure to meet you.” She turned her smile back to Abbie. “Well, if you girls would follow me, we’ll get started.”

“Skylar’s going to wait out here,” Abbie said, her tone leaving no room for disagreement.

A flicker of surprise crossed Cindy’s face, but she nodded. “Just make yourself comfortable.”

I took this to mean their meeting would take awhile. I settled into my seat in the spacious waiting room, opened
Wuthering Heights
, and hoped to get too absorbed in the world of Catherine and Heathcliff to think about what was happening down that hall.

Sadly, no luck.

The first time I glanced at my cell phone, positive at least thirty minutes had lapsed, only five had. I groaned and considered putting away my book. I’d barely read a page, though I’d been looking at it since Cindy and Abbie disappeared.

The next time I checked, only two more minutes had passed.

I gave up on being a model English student and closed my book. Instead, I preoccupied myself by scrolling through my overgrown contact list. Had I ever cleaned this thing out? Some people I hadn’t talked to in over a year.

When I reached the Rs, I saw his name—Aaron Robinson.

My heart raced with the memory.

He’d pulled my cell from my pocket. “Here,” he’d said, punching in his number. “For when you get bored with those high school boys.” Handing it back to me, he had winked one of his dark eyes.

I’d always been a sucker for dark eyes.

My finger hesitated on the erase button. I longed to call him, to chew him out for the pain he’d caused me. Or nearly caused me. Whatever.

Connor once asked if I’d ever considered that my life might be worse if Aaron hadn’t acted like such a scumbag. Would I have ever cleaned up my act and recognized God if not for the wake-up call of Jodi’s party?

Really, I should call and thank him.

I smirked at the idea, imagining how it would stun Aaron. Was that why God told us to turn the other cheek? To give our cloak as well as our tunic? Or, to a modern girl like me, my cashmere coat as well as the gorgeous new Armani sweater I’d just bought?

I blinked at my cell phone’s screen: dialing Aaron Robinson, it informed me. I’d done it. I’d hit the call button.

“Hello?” His voice—quiet and distant because I held the phone in my lap—sent a shiver through me. I’d recognize it anywhere.

“Hello?” he said again. “Who is this?”

I could almost feel his mouth close to my ear, his unshaven chin tickling my cheek. “Let’s get out of here,” he’d whispered, and I’d wanted to say no, but my mouth felt sticky, like I’d just eaten a spoonful of peanut butter.

“Skylar?” Cindy said, jolting me into the present.

What a relief to find myself not at a raging house party but in the sparsely decorated waiting room of Christian Family Services. I glanced at my cell phone and found the call disconnected. Probably by Aaron, because my finger lingered on the connect button.

Realizing Cindy still watched me, I forced out words. “Sorry, I was just . . .” Just what? “Just . . . thinking.”

She gave me a kind smile. “From what your sister’s told me, there’s a lot to think about these days. Abbie’s decided she’d like you to join us.” She gestured to my phone. “Would you mind putting it on vibrate? I’d hate for it to disturb us.”

“I’ll turn it off,” I said, fumbling with it as I stood to follow Cindy.

We walked through several short, neutrally painted hallways until finally reaching her office. Though a warm space, it lacked any sort of personal touch. No pictures of her family, no framed finger paintings. Maybe she stashed them under her desk when girls like my sister came in.

Cindy gestured to a corner of the room. Abbie sat on a sofa, her legs crossed at the ankles, which she’d never done until the last couple weeks. She’d gotten too big to comfortably cross at the knees.

Cindy settled into an armchair, and I took a place beside Abbie. A silver bowl of Jolly Ranchers sat on the coffee table. Abbie offered it to me without matching my eye line.

“Abbie tells me you’re a senior,” Cindy said, pulling a notebook onto her lap.

I unwrapped a green apple candy. “Yeah.”

I unwrapped a green apple candy.

“Do you have plans for college?”

“I’m going to Johnson County.”

“I wish they’d make it a four-year college. My daughter went there and loved it. Do you know yet what you want to study?” She glanced at my lace-up boots and patterned skirt. “Maybe design and textiles?”

I smiled politely. “I’m not sure yet.”

“Plenty of time to decide. You’re very smart to go to community college while you figure it out.”

I didn’t answer, just kept my smile pasted on. Was I smart or just too lazy to put in the effort of applying to more schools? I didn’t know anymore.

Without a graceful segue, Cindy jumped into the reason for the meeting. “Well, Skylar, let me catch you up on what Abbie and I have been discussing. I’ve explained to Abbie how serious a decision this is. She already knows this, of course, but it’s important, especially with how soon her due date is, to move forward from this meeting feeling good about either the decision to put the baby up for adoption or the decision to parent.”

Cindy went on to explain how the adoption would work, that Abbie would look through files of families and pick one, but nothing would be final until after the birth of the baby.

I wanted to look at Abbie during this but didn’t dare. In my peripheral, it seemed as though her gaze stayed locked on Cindy.

“Any questions so far?” Cindy’s gaze flickered between us.

I shook my head.

“Do you get many fifteen-year-olds in here?” Abbie asked, her voice a solid rock.

Cindy offered a kind, closed-mouth smile. “We get women of all ages.”

Abbie nodded, apparently satisfied. “And these families who adopt . . . how do you find them?”

“They come to us, actually. They apply, and we do a very thorough evaluation to be sure we can confidently place a child with them.”

“Are they mostly people who can’t have kids?”

“It varies. Some can’t. Some have kids but can’t naturally have any more. Others feel called to adopt.”

“Called.” Abbie shifted in her seat and reached for another Jolly Rancher. “Do the other girls—the mothers—do they usually feel called to give away their baby?”

Cindy shrugged. “Some do. Others simply feel it’s the best option.” She looked at my sister with such kindness, I wanted to hug her. “It’s never an easy decision, though.”

Abbie didn’t acknowledge this, just popped the candy in her mouth.

“Any other questions?”

Abbie shook her head. “Not right now.”

“Then I have a few.” Cindy positioned her notepad on the arm of her chair. “You said your parents know about the baby. Is there a reason they aren’t here?”

“I . . .” Abbie glanced at me. “I’ve only told Skylar. About adoption.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because Mom and Dad want me to keep the baby. They think . . .” Abbie shook her head. “I think they’re embarrassed by the idea of adoption. Like doing it is me saying I’d rather have some strange family raise her than either of them.”

Cindy cocked her head. “How
do
you feel about your parents being involved in raising the baby?”

Abbie flattened the candy wrapper on her palm, smoothing out the wrinkles as best she could. “They’re right, I guess. I’d rather take my chances with a strange family than them.”

“That’s why?” I said. “Because of Mom and Dad?”

Abbie spared me a glance but quickly returned her attention to Cindy. “Our family’s a mess. Seriously. We’d be the worst thing for this baby.”

That would’ve offended me, but I could see Abbie’s face— red and tight from restraining tears. And her voice, so defensive.
Too
defensive. Like maybe . . .

“You want to keep her.”

Abbie turned to me. Her chin quivered, and a deep crease ran down the bridge of her nose. Just like me when I held back tears.

“It’s crazy, I know.” Abbie gulped. “I’m fifteen. I’ve never had a job. I don’t have a car. How can I raise a baby?”

Cindy didn’t speak. She probably expected me, the big sister, to swoop in with reassurance. She didn’t realize how worthless I was whenever words really mattered.

“Do you believe . . .” Abbie toyed with her Jolly Rancher wrapper. “Recently I’ve felt like God was calling me to raise the baby,” she whispered. She looked up at me, her eyes wide and red-rimmed. “Is that possible? After I ignored him and got pregnant? Could he really trust me to raise her, or am I just imagining it because selfishly I want to keep her?”

I glanced at Cindy. I finally had stuff to say, but I couldn’t in front of a woman resembling a Disney princess.

Cindy smiled as she stood. “I have something to speak with the receptionist about. Just come find me whenever you’re ready.”

We watched her leave.

Abbie laughed nervously and balled up the candy wrapper. “She must think I’m a total whack job.”

I smiled. “If you’re gonna do this, you should probably figure out how to get past what other people think.”

“I want to know what
you
think,” Abbie said, her eyes searching my face. “Do you think it’s possible God is calling me, or am I just being stupid and emotional?”

I turned the Jolly Rancher over in my mouth as I worked to form my thoughts. “Remember over the summer, when I suddenly changed?”

She nodded.

“I’d been at Jodi’s party. This guy put something in my drink. He nearly raped me, but Eli followed us and stopped him.” I took a deep breath to slow myself down—I’d talked so fast, it’d be a miracle if Abbie had caught half of it. “At first I was naive enough to believe Eli saved me, but I know now God was after me, after my heart.”

I placed my hand on Abbie’s. “If God is willing to use a kegger of Jodi’s to save me, it doesn’t seem too crazy to think he might be using her”—I patted Abbie’s belly—“to come after you.”

Connor called that night as I pulled the blankets around me.

“You just getting home?” I asked, glancing at the clock. 10:30.

“We all went out for pancakes afterward.”

I didn’t want to ask but couldn’t help it. “You all . . . ?”

“Everyone but Cevin. Denny’s is funny about dogs.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. So much for ceasing to be a paranoid, jealous girlfriend. I mean, so what if Connor
had
gone for pancakes with Jodi? I needed to calm down.