“It may sound selfish of me, especially since I got myself in this predicament, but I don’t want to throw away the rest of my life working for minimum wage in a grocery store. When I have a family, I want to be able to provide a better life for them. I hope you don’t think I’m a terrible person for saying that.”
My emotions stuck in my throat, bobbing up and down as I swung from one end of the spectrum to the other. On one hand, I’d wanted to be the one who was pregnant. To feel the life growing inside me. To give my love freely without expecting anything in return, only praying for a healthy baby.
On the other hand, Zoe hadn’t even started her senior year of high school yet. She was still merely a baby herself. She was also facing a lifetime of regret for a mistake she made because she put her trust in someone who didn’t deserve her. After only knowing me for a few short weeks, she’d connected with me enough to want me to have her baby, to raise it and love it as my own. She was asking me to give her baby a chance at a better life than she’d had herself.
Tears filled my eyes because I couldn’t imagine being in her shoes and facing that choice. A young and innocent girl was making the ultimate sacrifice to give her unborn baby, and her future children, the best chance at a full and happy life she knew how to provide.
I threw my arms around her neck and hugged her tightly to me. “I’d never think that about you, Zoe. What you’re doing is the bravest act I can imagine a mother doing for her child.” I released her and leaned back pointedly to get her attention. “I would be honored to adopt your baby. But if you change your mind while you’re in the delivery room, I need you to promise you’ll tell me. I may be disappointed, but I’d never be mad or blame you for that.”
She nodded and tears spilled over onto her cheeks. “I promise, Layne. I’ll tell you if I change my mind. But right now, I don’t see that happening. There’s no future for me here.”
The conversation with Zoe’s parents was pretty much as bad as Zoe expected it to be. Michael and Sherry Sullivan are without a doubt the worst parents I’ve ever met. They’re middle-class and fit the classic mold of the baby boomer generation—the “me” generation. It’s clear they had Zoe later in life than most of the other residents, which leads me to believe she wasn’t planned or wanted at all. However, they had to keep up appearances with their small, insignificant social circle, so they couldn’t shirk their responsibilities and show their true colors.
“If you’re old enough to have sex and get pregnant, you’re old enough to be out on your own,” Michael chastised.
“When I tell the women in my book club what you’ve done, they’ll never shop at that grocery store again. They’ll drive the twenty miles to the next town,” Sherry added.
“I’m sorry,” Zoe replied glumly, her chin nearly touching her chest and her eyes downcast.
“Your daughter made a mistake. One I’d wager the two of you made yourselves,” I blurted out when I couldn’t take it anymore. “I’d go so far to say that you’re both jealous that your teenage daughter has the guts to make the choice you both wish you’d made about seventeen years ago.”
They both stared at me for several long minutes in shock, tongue-tied and unsure of themselves around the crazy, rude Northerner sitting in their living room. My usual bravado was out in full force, and I maintained my glare until they looked away first.
“Zoe, it’s time for you to pack your things,” Michael announced. “There’s nothing else either of you can say that will change my mind.”
Zoe and I packed her clothes in the suitcase I’d borrowed from Marcia’s cabin. Zoe suggested I bring it when we first made the arrangements because she knew that would be the outcome. She’s a bright girl and she knew she wasn’t wanted at home. Her pregnancy was the perfect excuse they needed to finally be rid of her.
Sherry, her mother, knew she could get mountains of attention and sympathy from her group of brainless, follow-the-leader friends over how her child had turned out, through no fault of her own, of course. She’d relish in the popularity it would automatically guarantee her. Michael, her father, could stick his head in the sand and pretend none of it happened, none of it mattered, and he could go on with his life in his own selfish, self-absorbed bubble.
As much as their betrayal hurt her, Zoe has finally accepted that she’s better off without them in her life. She’s staying with me in Marcia’s enormous vacation cabin. When I explained the situation to Marcia over the phone, she responded in typical Marcia fashion. She made some vague references to roofies, shaved heads, and genitals glued to embarrassing objects that would be impossible to explain to the paramedics. Nothing that hadn’t already crossed my mind to do myself, or that I’d ever admit to in a court of law.