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Authors: Francine Rivers

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BOOK: The Atonement Child
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“I imagine your staff could have handled the details.”

“Possibly, but I take a personal interest when one of my patients is upset.”

She bristled. “
Two
of your patients were in great distress. Here. The wait frightened them away.”

“Or maybe they thought better of having an abortion,” he said rigidly, knowing that response would not go over well.

He was right. Her eyes flashed with growing anger. “Perhaps,” she said smoothly, then stepped into the room. “Here’s your check.” She held out it out to him. He frowned. He was bothered by the money side of his work at the clinic, and usually she considered that, giving him his pay in an envelope. Apparently she felt like reminding him he was no better than anyone else, maybe worse for his pretentiousness. He drew pay for his part in the business just like she did, just like Dr. Franklin, just like Phyllis and Brenda and half a dozen others.

Heat flooded Jim’s face. He looked at her and felt a muscle jerking in his cheek. He wanted to tell her to stuff that check where the sun didn’t shine, but he held his tongue. Establishing a practice was expensive. Malpractice insurance was a killer. What choice did he have? “I’ll pick it up later.”

“I’ll just tuck it into your sport coat, how’s that?” she said, mockery clear in her tones.

“I said I’ll pick it up later.” He stepped past her and went out. He walked down the hallway to the first room and took the chart off the door rack. It was a brief form with the barest minimum of facts about the waiting patient. Stapled to it was a signed consent. He read everything. Sighing, he entered the room, scarcely glancing at the young girl on the table.

“Is it going to hurt?”

“As little as possible,” he said, smiling at her with what encouragement he could offer.

She talked as he made swift preparations, fast words pouring out in her fear. He tried to put her at ease. She fell silent through the procedure, tensed up at the pain. One of the “nurses” took the basin from the room.

When it was over, Jim stripped off his gloves and discarded them in the wastebasket. Everything had gone smoothly and swiftly. He was good at what he did. Thorough. Elizabeth always encouraged him to finish the procedure and move on to the next room, leaving one of the counselors to give instructions afterward, but he couldn’t. Not today. He lingered, concerned, and spoke gently to the silent girl. He wanted to say something to make it easier on her, but he hadn’t the words.

“You’ll be all right,” he said, patting her arm.

Turning her head slightly, she looked up at him.

Looking into her eyes, Jim hurt. Worse, he remembered the newspaper article he had read that morning.

Dynah sat terrified in the clinic waiting room. Half a dozen girls sat in the chairs around the room, all with their backs against the wall. Dynah’s mother sat beside her. She supposed she should be thankful for that, noting the others were by themselves. Yet she was torn. Was she doing the right thing? Was this the only way out?

No one said anything.

No one made eye contact.

Her heart thumped wildly every time the door opened and another number was called. Each seat that was vacated was filled with another girl or woman who entered. All strangers. All closed into their private anguish. She was afraid she was going to be sick.

“Mom, I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered, trembling.

Hannah heard the fear in her daughter’s voice and took her hand, holding it on her lap between both of hers. “Shhh. It’ll be all right. I’ll be with you the whole time.”

“I just don’t know. . . .”

“I won’t force you, honey. I promise you. We’ll talk to the counselor first, and then we’ll see what’s to be done.”

Dynah looked into her mother’s eyes and could say no more. She looked down, not wanting her mother to see how afraid she was. She was so afraid she had caused a breach in her parents’ marriage.

“I suppose it’s the only way. I don’t know what else to do.”
Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God, is this what I’m supposed to do? If it’s right, then why do I feel this churning inside me and this gut-wrenching fear? I can’t see my way out of this mess I’m in. It wasn’t my fault, Lord. Why did it happen? Why?

Dynah fought down the tears she knew would only add to her mother’s distress.

Hannah felt her daughter’s torment and shared it. “It’ll be all right,” she said again, clinging to the hollow words, wanting to believe them. Her daughter wouldn’t be alone the way she had been. She would have her mother to stand beside her, to hold her hand through it all and love her afterward. It would all turn out right in the end. Dynah wouldn’t hurt the way she had.

The way she still did. . . .

The door opened again, and a middle-aged woman in white stood in the doorway. “Twenty-eight.”

“That’s us,” Hannah said softly, rising, her daughter’s hand firmly in her own.

They were ushered into an examination room and joined there by a young black nurse who introduced herself as Brenda. Brenda read through the form Dynah had filled out, rechecking the data.

Dynah asked her several questions and received vague responses. Though the young woman seemed increasingly uncomfortable, Dynah felt she had to persist. “I need to know, Brenda. Won’t you please tell me the truth?”

The young nurse stared at her as though caught in a dilemma. She remained silent for a moment, then shook her head. “I think you might feel better about the procedure if you both spoke with the director. Ms. Chambers will be able to reassure you. Would you like to speak with her?”

“Please,” Dynah said.

Brenda went straight to Elizabeth. “I have a young girl and her mother who’d like to speak with you.”

“I haven’t the time for this,” Elizabeth said, rubbing her temples.

“They’ve asked to speak with you,” Brenda persisted. “They have some questions they want answered.” Elizabeth raised her head and glared at Brenda, who spread her hands. “I’m sorry, Ms. Chambers, but they’re adamant. I’m afraid they’ll leave if you don’t talk with them.”

“How far along?”

“Four and a half months.”

Second trimester. That meant more money. “What did you observe about them?”

“The girl seems to be having difficulty accepting abortion as her only option.”

“And the mother?”

“Supportive. She’s holding her hand and telling her everything will be all right.”

Good. That would make it easier. “All right. I’ll speak with them, but give me ten minutes. I have a call I need to make first.”

As soon as Brenda closed the door, Elizabeth punched the speed dial for her ex-husband’s office. His secretary didn’t want to put her through. “I don’t care if he is in a meeting! You tell him it’s an emergency concerning his daughter. Remind him her name is Kip.”

He came on within seconds, angry and wanting to know what had happened. She told him what the principal had said.

“So pick her up! Why bother me with it?”

“Because she’s made some absurd accusation that I’m abusing her!”

“Are you?”

“Of course not! We were married ten years. You should know me better than that.”

“No, you’re right. You never threw a fist, but you threw words like grenades.”

She clenched her teeth, retaining tenuous control.

“Look,” he said impatiently, “I haven’t got time for this. You’re going to have to sort it out yourself, Liz. Today’s meeting is important. We were in a break, or I wouldn’t have been able to talk to you.”

Why should she be surprised? He’d never cared enough to help her before. Why had she assumed he would jump in now? Even if it involved his own daughter. “What about your new wife? Can she help?” she said, trying to keep the edge of sarcasm from her voice and failing.

“Leslie hasn’t got the time either. She’s packing.”

“Oh,” she said with cloying sweetness, “is she leaving you, too?”

“No. We’re taking a second honeymoon. She flies to Hawaii tomorrow to get our time-share ready. I’m meeting her in Maui on Saturday.”

Second honeymoon. How nice. Her honeymoon had been spent in married housing on the UC Davis campus. She’d spent three years putting him through college. He had never even taken her to Monterey during their ten-year marriage. She had sacrificed a great deal to help him attain his dreams. He had been too busy clawing his way to the top. Now that he was there, he could do as he pleased and forget his responsibilities toward her. A time-share in Maui and a vacation. And where was she? Asking him would do no good.

“Leslie could take Kip with her. I could send someone to the house to pack her things.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Liz. Kip needs to face her problems, not run away from them.”

“You mean the way you do.”

He gave an unpleasant laugh. “Same old Liz.”

“She’s our daughter, Brian. We both worked and planned and sacrificed to have her. I don’t know what to do about—”

“Look,” he said harshly, cutting her off, “this is going nowhere, as usual. You wanted custody of Kip. You got it. You wanted everything your way. You got it. Now you complain. Tough. You hear that, Liz? The court took your side. You got Kip and the exorbitant child support you demanded. I had to fight tooth and nail to get two lousy weekends a month to see my daughter! Seven years you’ve had it your way, and now you wonder why you’ve got problems. Well, don’t think I’m going to step in now and fix the mess you’ve made. Fix it yourself!”

Click.

Hurt and angry, Elizabeth slammed the telephone down. She sat for a moment fuming and then punched in the number for the private school. By the time she was passed from the school secretary to the principal’s secretary to the principal, her temper was ragged, though controlled.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Ord, but Kip’s father won’t pick her up. He’s busy getting ready for a vacation in Hawaii.” She couldn’t keep the bitter edge from her voice. What she resented most were the tears that burned her eyes. She thought she’d gotten over the pain of their shattered relationship. It hurt to be used and discarded.

As furious as she was at Kip, the thought of her daughter being taken away from her tore at her heart. Why was Kip doing this to her? Why was she so rebellious and hateful? She had provided her daughter with everything she needed. She had shown she loved her by giving her everything she wanted. She had coddled, nurtured, and counseled. Last year, when Kip had such a crush on that senior football player, hadn’t Elizabeth put her on birth control so she didn’t have to worry about getting pregnant? Hadn’t she even purchased condoms for the boy so Kip wouldn’t have to worry about contracting AIDS? Not once had she tried to stop Kip from trying to find happiness. And this is the thanks she got for understanding! It wasn’t her fault the boy had dumped Kip or that a succession of other boys had come and gone since.

“She’s recanted her story.” Mr. Ord’s quiet words broke into her frustrated thoughts.

“That’s nice, considering it wasn’t true in the first place.”

“She seems very distressed and confused, Ms. Chambers.”

“You said she’s drunk.”

“It’s more than that.”

Elizabeth glanced at her watch. She didn’t have time for this. Brenda would be tapping on the door in a few minutes. If Kip thought she had problems, she ought to spend the day counseling girls in a family planning clinic. “I know that, Mr. Ord. I’m doing the best I can. Can I send someone to pick her up? One of my staff. I could have her brought here to my office.”

“There’s no urgency at the moment, Ms. Chambers. Kip’s asleep right now in the nurse’s office. An hour or two won’t be a problem.”

She felt his hesitance but decided not to question it. “Good. I’ll be there by three.”

“I’d like you to talk with the school counselor.”

“Fine. I’ll do that. And thank you, Mr. Ord.” She hung up before he could say more. With one problem settled, she felt better able to face the next.

Moments later Brenda ushered in the mother and her daughter. Smiling warmly, Elizabeth sat at her desk, her hands folded on the blotter, and surveyed them with what she hoped was a friendly demeanor. She noted the mother’s diamond studs immediately. Although her wedding ring was a simple gold band, on her other hand was a ring clustered with diamonds. Elizabeth noted other signs of affluence. French-manicured nails. An expensive watch. Designer pants and jacket. Italian shoes. The casual cut of her hair cost money to maintain.

BOOK: The Atonement Child
10.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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