The Friends We Keep

Bath time passed quickly. Gabby and Andrew tucked the twins in and read them several stories before they fell asleep. As soon as they stepped into the hallway, her husband turned to her.

“What’s up?” He touched her cheek. “You’re on edge. I could tell you wanted the girls in bed before we talked. Are you okay?”

“I’m exhausted and you need to talk to your oldest daughter.”

Andrew took her hand in his. “Only if we do it together.”

“That’s not going to go well.”

“Makayla’s going to have to get over that.”

They walked to her room. She met them at the door, then stepped back to let them in. Once the door was closed behind them, the teen put her hands on her hips.

“Dad, I want an abortion. I’m not carrying this baby anymore and you can’t make me.”

Andrew stared at her. “What happened to keeping the baby? You wanted to raise it yourself.”

“What? No. I don’t. I’m a kid. I don’t want to be a mom. Have you seen what Gabby does in a day? It’s ridiculous. You should get her some help. I don’t want to have a baby. I don’t. I’m fifteen. I want an abortion. You have to let me. Gabby said no, you have to say yes.”

Andrew glanced between the two of them. “You’ve been talking about this?”

Gabby thought about the shouting earlier. “Makayla told me this afternoon. She’s too far along. Plus, it’s not a decision to be made lightly. These are the wrong reasons to have an abortion. I told her she should carry the baby to term and then give it up, if that’s what she wants.”

Makayla stomped her foot. “No. I won’t. I want it out of me now. Dad, tell her!”

Gabby braced herself for the inevitable. The rational discussion that would result in Makayla getting exactly what she wanted. Because that was always what happened.

“No,” Andrew said calmly.

They both stared at him.

“Excuse me?” Gabby felt her mouth drop open and consciously closed it.

Makayla looked equally stunned. “Daddy, you never tell me no.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is,” Gabby said before she could stop herself. “Makayla always gets her way.”

How comical they must look to an outsider, Gabby thought as Andrew’s eyes widened. Everyone slack-jawed in amazement. She supposed that made this one of those life-changing moments people were always talking about. She should try to remember every detail. The problem was, she was exhausted and so ready to move on.

“I want an abortion!” Makayla shouted.

“And I want a daughter who isn’t pregnant,” Andrew roared back. “Now we’re both disappointed.”

Makayla burst into tears. Andrew’s expression turned stricken. Gabby groaned. She went to the teen and hugged her.

“It’s going to be okay,” she murmured.

“It’s not. I hate my life and I hate this baby. I don’t have any friends, school is awful and now I can’t have an abortion.”

Gabby pointed to the door. “Go on downstairs,” she told her husband. “I’ll deal with this.”

He hesitated.

She shook her head. “It’s fine. Trust me. There are powerful hormones at work. Let us work this through.”

He escaped before she could say anything else.

Makayla turned to her and began to cry.

“If only we could harness all our tears,” Gabby murmured. “California wouldn’t have a water shortage.”

“You think this is funny?” the teen demanded.

“I think it’s not tragic. It’s hard, it’s uncomfortable and what you’re going through is going to change who you are, but it’s not the end of the world.”

“It is to me.”

“No, it’s not. You’re going to have the baby. We’ll find a nice couple to take it. This time next year, you’ll be back in school.” She almost said just like nothing ever happened. Only she had a feeling there would be scars—at least on the inside.

Her stepdaughter sighed. “You’re really not going to let me get rid of it?”

“I’m really not.”

Makayla surprised her by wiping her face. “Is there any ice cream?”

“I don’t know. Let’s go find out.”





Chapter Twenty-Eight

Hayley sat in the meeting room of the local church and listened as the women talked. Her friend Shannon had told her about the support group for women trying to adopt a baby. This was her second meeting and it was just as depressing as the first one.

So far she’d listened to stories of failed adoption attempts in multiple counties. Of surrogates who couldn’t get pregnant or made legal trouble. Of IVF and fostering first.

She’d spent the last couple of weeks doing as much research as she could online before attending the group. She knew that everyone wanted an infant and that going through public channels could take years. That private adoption was a matter of knowing the right people, and she wasn’t sure she and Rob did.