Stanford University.
She barely breathed as she withdrew the letter and read the first line. Dear Mr. Haynes: We are pleased to offer you a place of admission …
Tears made it impossible to read the rest.
“Isn’t it great?” he said, taking the letter from her. “Early decision rocks.”
“It’s so early … no one else knows yet.”
“I guess I’m just lucky.”
Lucky. Yeah. “Wow,” she said, unable to look at him. There was no way she could tell him now.
“This is the beginning, Lauren. You’ll get into USC or Berkeley, and we’ll be on our way. We’ll be together every weekend. And holidays.”
She finally looked up at him. It felt as if miles separated them now, a distance as big as an ocean. Different colleges hardly seemed to matter. “You’re leaving tonight, aren’t you?” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded dull, wooden.
“Thanksgiving at Uncle Frederick’s.” He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly, whispering, “It’s only through the weekend. Then we can celebrate.”
She wanted to be happy for him. Stanford. It was what he’d dreamed of. “I’m proud of you, David.”
“I love you, Lauren.”
It was true. He loved her. And not in that silly high school I-just-want-to-get-laid way, either.
Yesterday that would have been enough; today she saw things differently.
It was easy to love someone when life was uncomplicated.
Last week Lauren’s biggest fear—and it had seemed Incredible Hulk big—had been not getting in to Stanford. Today that was the least of her worries. Soon, she would have to tell David about the baby, and from that moment on, nothing would be easy. Love least of all.
Somehow Lauren made it through her Wednesday shift at the restaurant. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure how she did it. Her mind was crammed so full, it didn’t seem possible that she could remember a single order, let alone dozens.
“Lauren?”
She turned, found Angie standing there, smiling at her with a worried look in her eyes.
“We want you and your mother to come to Mama’s house for Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Oh.” Lauren hoped her longing didn’t show.
Angie moved closer. “We’d really like you to be there.”
All her life she’d waited for an invitation like this. “I …” She couldn’t seem to say no. “My mom isn’t one for parties.” Unless you’re offering gin and pot.
“If she’s busy, come by yourself. Just think about it. Please? Everyone will get to Mama’s around one o’clock.” Angie handed Lauren a slip of paper. “Here’s the address. It would mean a lot to us if you were there. You work at DeSaria’s. That makes you family.”
On Thanksgiving, when Lauren woke up, her very first thought was: You work at DeSaria’s. That makes you family.
For once, she had somewhere to go on this holiday, but how could she go there now, ruined and stupid? Angie would take one look at her and know. Lauren had been dreading that moment from the second she found out she was pregnant.
She was still pacing the apartment at eleven when the phone rang. She answered on the first ring. “Hello?”
“Lauren? It’s Angie.”
“Oh. Hi.”
“I wondered if you needed a ride today. It looks like it might rain and I know that your mom’s car isn’t running.”
Lauren sighed. It was a sound of pure longing. “No. Thanks.”
“You’ll be here at one o’clock, right?”
The question was asked so softly Lauren couldn’t say no. She wanted it too much. “Sure. One o’clock.” When she hung up, she went to her mom’s room and stood by the door, listening. It was quiet. Finally, she knocked. “Mom?”
There was the pinging of bedsprings, then footsteps. The door opened. Mom stood there, bleary-eyed and ashen-skinned, wearing a knee-length T-shirt that advertised a tavern. The slogan was Alcoholics serving alcoholics for 89 years. “Yeah?”
“It’s Thanksgiving, remember? We’re invited to dinner.”
Mom reached sideways for a pack of smokes. Lit one up. “Oh, yeah. Your boss. I thought you weren’t sure.”
“I … I’d like to go.”
Mom glanced behind her—at the man in the bed, no doubt. “I think I’ll hang around here.”
“But—”
“You go. Have a good time. I’m not one for big to-dos, anyway. You know that.”
“They invited both of us. It’ll be embarrassing to show up alone.”
Mom exhaled smoke and smiled. “No more embarrassing than showing up with me.” She looked pointedly at Lauren’s stomach. “Besides, you’re not alone anymore.”
The door closed.