“Thank you for agreeing to come today. David has told us it’s difficult for you.”
David squeezed her hand.
Lauren knew this was the time to say something, maybe state her opinion, but when she tried, nothing came out. She nodded instead.
Just then Mr. Haynes walked into the room. Dressed in a navy blue double-breasted suit and pale yellow shirt, he looked every bit the power player who was used to getting his way in the boardroom. Beside him was a heavyset man in a black suit.
“Hello, Lauren,” Mr. Haynes said, not bothering to smile. He didn’t look at his son. “I’d like you to meet Stuart Phillips. He’s a well-respected attorney who specializes in adoption.”
That was all it took, just the word being spoken aloud, and Lauren started to cry.
Mrs. Haynes was beside her instantly, handing her a tissue, murmuring something about everything being okay.
But it wasn’t okay.
Lauren wiped her eyes, muttered, “Sorry,” and let herself be led into the living room. There, they all sat down on the expensive cream-colored furniture. She worried that her tears would stain the fabric.
There was a moment of awkward silence before the lawyer started to talk.
Lauren listened, or at least she tried to. Her heart was beating so loudly that sometimes she couldn’t hear anything else. Bits and pieces drifted toward her, sticking like flotsam in the net of her mind.
best decision for the child
another family/another mother
better able to parent
termination of rights
college is best for you now
too young
When it was over and the lawyer had said everything he’d come to say, he sat back in his chair and smiled easily, as if those words had been sounds and breath, nothing more. “Do you have any questions, Lauren?”
She looked around the room.
Mrs. Haynes looked ready to burst into tears and David was pale. His blue eyes were narrowed with worry. Mr. Haynes was tapping his armrest.
“You all think I should do this,” Lauren said slowly.
“You’re too young to be parents,” Mr. Haynes said. “David can’t remember to feed the dog or make his bed, for God’s sake.”
Mrs. Haynes shot her husband a withering look, then smiled at Lauren. It was sad, that smile, and full of knowing. “There’s no easy answer here, Lauren. We know that. But you and David are good kids. You deserve a chance in life. Parenthood is hard work. You need to think about the baby, too. You want to give your child every opportunity. I tried to discuss all this with your mother, but she didn’t return my calls.”
“Believe me, young lady,” the lawyer said, “there are dozens of wonderful people who would love and adore your baby.”
“That’s the point,” Lauren said so quietly that everyone leaned forward to hear her. “It’s my baby.” She turned to David. “Our baby.”
He didn’t move, didn’t look away. To someone who didn’t know him, he might have appeared unaffected. But to Lauren, who’d loved him so long, everything in his eyes changed. His face seemed to crumple into disappointment.
“Okay,” he said, as if she’d asked a question. She knew then—as she’d known before—that he’d stand by her, back up her choices.
But he didn’t want this. To him it wasn’t a baby, it was an accident. A mistake. If it were up to him, they’d sign a few papers, hand over the baby, and move on.
If she didn’t make that choice, she’d ruin his life as much as her own. Maybe the child’s, too.
She drew in a heavy breath, exhaled it slowly. She should break up with David. If she loved him enough, she’d set him free from all of this.
The thought of that, of losing him, paralyzed her with fear.
She looked around the room, saw everyone’s expectation, and she was beaten.
“I’ll think about it,” she said.
The suddenness of David’s smile broke her heart.
“All right,” Angie said, coming into the living room. “Do you hear the timer on the stove?”
“It’s beeping,” Lauren said, pulling her knees up to her chest. She was sitting on the floor in front of the fire.
“Yes, it is, and do you know why?”
“Dinner is ready?”
Angie rolled her eyes. “I realize I’m not the best chef in the world, but even I don’t take my dinner out of the oven at eleven in the morning.”
“Oh. Right.” Lauren stared down at her hands. She’d chewed her nails down to the quick.
Angie knelt down in front of her. “You’ve been moping around this house for too long. I brought home your favorite pizza last week when you graduated and you hardly touched it. Last night you went to bed at seven o’clock. I’ve been patient, waiting for you to talk to me, but—”
“I’ll go clean my room.” She started to get up.
Angie stopped her with a touch. “Honey. Your room couldn’t be any cleaner. That’s all you’ve been doing in the last few days. Working and cleaning your room and sleeping. What’s going on?”
“I can’t talk about it.”