Shades of Blue (16 page)

Brad’s silence in that single moment changed forever the way she viewed people of faith. It was one thing to take a stand against some societal wrong. It was another thing altogether to make tough decisions in line with that stand when the matter became personal. In other words, Brad’s faith only allowed that abortion was wrong when it involved someone else. Emma had heard Brad’s mother talk about their beliefs when the anniversary of
Roe v. Wade
rolled around. Back then Brad was very vocal about the subject, agreeing with his parents completely.

But now that the terrifying pregnancy was hers, Brad didn’t have much to say.

They kept walking in silence, and a nausea came over Emma. She stopped and pulled her coat protectively around her middle. “You want me to have an abortion.” It wasn’t a question.

“It wasn’t my idea, Em. It was the nurse’s. She’s the one who made the appointment.” He released a frustrated sound and took a half step backward, away from her. He was acting detached, almost disinterested. “Look, we’re too young to have a baby. You have to finish school. I have college. We’d be giving up all that.” There was no denying the fear in his eyes. “This is about our future.”

She wanted to scream at him, ask him
what about our baby’s future
. But she only hung her head.

He touched his hand to her elbow. “Look, I wanna do the right thing for you. Whatever that means I’ll do it.”

“Like what?” she tossed her hands in the air. “Drive me to the clinic? Pay for it?”

“I guess so.” He hesitated. “Whatever you need, Emma.”

She stared at Brad for a long moment and then spun around so he wouldn’t see her cry. This wasn’t what she wanted … it wasn’t how she pictured this scene playing out. She wanted him to take her tenderly in his arms and stroke her back, promise her everything would be okay and ask her to marry him. Anything so they could get out of this nightmare together and whole. The three of them. But now … now he sounded like the school nurse, reminding her that they’d be compromising their futures if they had a baby now.

“Emma.” He came to her, but not with an unconditional love and concern. Rather, his tone was marked by something new and uncomfortable. As if they hadn’t grown up together. As if they weren’t best friends who had gotten into serious trouble together. He put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m not ready to be a dad. If that’s what you’re looking for, I can’t … I’m not ready.”

So there was the real problem. She turned slowly, facing him, her heart breaking in half. When their eyes met, she realized something that only added to the sick feeling inside her. He looked like a stranger, like someone she didn’t know at all. “So that’s it.” She sniffed, trying to keep from collapsing to a heap at his feet. Her voice was a tortured whisper. “You drive me to the clinic. I get an abortion, and we act like nothing ever happened. I go back to my senior year and you leave for Carolina and no one ever has to know. Right, Brad?”

“What other choice is there?” His voice broke, and for the first time since she’d taken the pregnancy test, his eyes filled with tears. “This is our only option.”

Emma remembered putting her hand over her stomach, picturing the baby who would be half her, half Brad. Was it a boy with Brad’s blond hair or a girl with her hazel eyes? She had one more question, and she struggled to find the right words as she stared at the boy she still loved. “What about us?”

“Us?” He swiped at the tears on his cheeks, and at the same time he turned toward the river. When he looked back, a hopelessness screamed from his expression. “Nothing’s been the same. Not since … not since August.”

The world stopped spinning, and Emma couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. Was he breaking up with her? Were they finished because they’d made a mistake and gotten caught? No matter what happened next, she couldn’t lose Brad. He was everything to her, every yesterday and a lifetime of tomorrows. There had never been anyone else for her but Brad, so he couldn’t be saying what he was saying. She grabbed a series of quick breaths and shoved her fingers through the roots of her hair. “Are you … breaking up?”

His answer was quick and defensive. “Of course not.” Anger colored his tone. “I never said that.”

“You said nothing’s been the same since August.” She was panting, struggling to exhale. In the distance a group of teenage guys walked by. They stared and snickered at them, as if the discussion were nothing more than a teenage lovers’ quarrel.

“I didn’t say I wanted to break up.” He still sounded angry. “You’re putting words in my mouth.”

Emma hated that he was defending himself. She wanted him to fight for
her
, tell her he’d go to the ends of the earth for her. Promises of love and devotion and protection, that’s what she wanted. Not this … this frustrated guy making excuses and nervous accusations. But what was she going to do, order him to be kind, beg him to understand a little of the terror she was feeling? She forced herself to calm down, to breathe normally, and when she had regained some of her composure she reached for his hand. “I still love you.”

His transition took a few seconds. But then for the first time since they’d reached the river, the look in his eyes was the kind one she was familiar with. He pulled her to him and breathed into her hair. “I love you too. Nothing’s changed.” He put his hand alongside her cheek and kissed her — not the passionate kiss that had caused them to lose control, but a kiss of tenderness and concern that said everything his words did not.

“We can get through this, right?” Her tears were back, blurring her eyes. She clung to him like she might otherwise fall off the edge of a cavernous cliff.

“Of course.” His voice was heavy with relief. “We’ll get through it together. Everything will be okay.”

And like that, the decision was made.

Twelve

E
MMA STOPPED THE MEMORIES COLD AND
didn’t think about them again until early the next morning. Even then she held them at a distance. What happened that terrible Saturday in November wasn’t something she thought about — not ever. Instead she tried to focus all her thoughts on Kristin. A quick call to the hospital and Kristin’s mother got on the line. Nothing had changed during the night. They were still praying for Kristin to come out of the coma. Emma promised to keep praying, but she kept the conversation short. She felt like a liar, talking about prayer to a woman with such strong beliefs.

Emma hung up the phone and looked around her house. She wanted to go back to bed and wake up a different person, someone without her wretched past. Instead she fed Riley, showered, and dressed in Capri pants and a loose-fitting sleeveless blouse. Sunday mornings she often stopped at Ace Hardware for paint or hinges, whatever her latest home improvement project required. But today she didn’t feel like working on the house. Her worries for Kristin combined with the defeat and guilt of her memories made it impossible to feel anything but deeply discouraged.

Sunshine streamed through the front window, and for half an hour she tried to read the latest Grisham novel. But she couldn’t get into it, not with the past breathing down her neck. She stood and stretched, noting the time on the old clock that hung on the wall by the window. Just after eight thirty. Coffee, that’s what she needed. She made sure Riley had enough water, then she grabbed her purse and climbed into her old red convertible. She drove down Dolphin to Ocean, off the island onto the mainland to her favorite coffee shop. Cappuccino by the Sea was only a few minutes from her house. Maybe the short trip would jump-start her day and help put the memories behind her once again.

She pulled into the gravel lot and found the last open parking space. The place was tucked against a grove of towering trees, and outside sat a few white plastic tables and colorful umbrellas. Emma didn’t see Gavin Greeley until she was nearly to the front door. He sat alone, stretched back in one of the plastic chairs, reading the paper. His khaki slacks and tan knit T-shirt were too nice for a casual Sunday morning coffee.

He must’ve sensed someone watching him, because he looked up, looked right at her. His eyes shifted quickly from surprised to serious. “Emma.” He set the paper down and stood.

She wondered if there was some kind of celestial conspiracy against her. After all, this was the third straight day she’d seen him. She composed herself and walked closer. “Hi.”

He looked like he might try to hug her, but then he seemed to change his mind. “How’s Kristin?” His concern was deeply genuine. “Have you heard?”

“No changes.” Emma wanted to get her coffee and leave. Standing here, looking into his kind eyes only added to her attraction to him — an attraction she would never give in to. “Her mom asked for more prayers.”

“Definitely.” He looked at the coffee shop door and then back at her. His tone softened. “Hey … get your drink and let’s take a walk. Talk for a few minutes.”

Emma started to tell him no, she couldn’t walk with him or get closer to him. But suddenly the idea seemed better than going home alone, just her and her incessant memories. “Okay.” She took another step toward the door and tried to smile. Her determination to stay clear of him wasn’t his fault, after all. “Just for a few minutes.”

She bought a tall soy latte and returned to his table. “You’re dressed nice.”

“I have church in a couple hours. I like coming here first.” He had folded the newspaper, and now he stood, unhurried. He pointed down a path that led from the parking lot through a grove of trees. “You ever walk back that way?”

“No.” Emma narrowed her eyes, trying to see down the gravel path. “Where does it go?”

“There’s a catfish pond back there. The path goes about half a mile in and then around the pond. It’s a nice walk.”

Again she was doubtful. She hadn’t come here to take a walk with Gavin Greeley. But she couldn’t think of a single reason to say no. “Hold on.” She put her purse in her car and locked it. Then with her coffee cupped in both hands, she fell in beside him and they walked toward the path.

Gavin waited until they were under the cover of the trees before he glanced at her. “Can I ask you a question?” He walked slowly, clearly more concerned with the conversation than the catfish.

“You just did.” She kept on, but she gave him a sheepish look and then turned her attention to her drink. “I’m not big on questions.”

“See, that’s what I mean.” His smile was easy, but confusion shadowed his eyes. “You’re always difficult like that.”

“Difficult?” She never thought about how her actions might’ve made her seem. “Because I don’t want to talk?”

“No.” A breeze ruffled the higher tree branches above and sunlight streaked in along the path. “Because you won’t let me be your friend.”

“You wouldn’t want to be my friend.” She looked straight at him. “Not if you really knew me.”

“You’ve said that.” Gavin hesitated, his attention on her. “The other day at the hospital, that whole thing about your prayers somehow hurting Kristin, and how God wouldn’t want to hear from you.” He searched her eyes all the way to her soul. “Something must’ve happened to you, Emma. Whatever it is, it’s stealing the life from you, and you won’t deal with it.” A tenderness filled his face and he hesitated a long moment. “Nothing you could tell me would make me run.”

“You think that.” She was trembling now, desperate to turn around and sprint back to the parking lot, drive away before the conversation went any further. “But you’d be surprised.” She gave a quick look over her shoulder, but they were far enough away that she couldn’t see anything but trees.

Gavin’s gaze remained unwavering. “Try me, Emma. Give me a chance to be your friend.”

Emma’s mind raced, and she felt dizzy. What if she took him up on his offer? What if she told him what she’d done? Maybe then he’d leave her alone and they could avoid another scene like this one. She took a long sip of her latte, her hands colder than they should’ve been. “Okay.” She started walking again, more slowly than before. “You want to know, I’ll tell you.”

He raised his brow a little and he stayed at her pace. “I’m listening.”

She stared at her feet. Could she do this? Her stomach hurt and she still wanted to run. But she had to at least try to make him understand. She wasn’t sure where to begin, so she decided to get to the point. That way maybe this talk wouldn’t last longer than it had to. She forced herself to look at him. “It happened ten years ago. November 20, 1999.” Her lungs felt tight, like she couldn’t breathe right. Still she forced herself to continue. “I dated the same guy through high school, and … the summer after my junior year I got pregnant.”

Gavin didn’t blink, didn’t change his expression whatsoever. They walked for a while without saying anything. The path wound into a small clearing, and wildflowers dotted a grassy field to their left.

The sun felt warm on her shoulders and it gave her confidence to continue. “I wasn’t ready to have a baby, so …” She stopped and stared at the blue sky for a long time. When she looked at him, she knew she had to tell him. There was no turning back. “I had an abortion.” She felt like she might throw up. She hung her head and the ground beneath her feet felt suddenly liquid. The silence from Gavin was unbearable. She looked up at him again, at his complete lack of reaction. “That’s it. See?” A sad sound came from her. “You need to meet someone at church, Gavin. Not someone like me.”

Gavin’s face held none of the shock or disgust she’d imagined, none of the condemnation. He took awhile, like always. Then he breathed in sharply through his nose. “I’ll bet there was more to it than that.”

“More to it?”

“Yes.” He angled his head, sympathy in his voice. “Must’ve been the hardest thing you ever did.”

His comment caught her completely off guard. She’d expected something along the lines of a mini-lecture, a talk about the value of life. That sort of thing. She felt her shaking ease some. “Hardest ever.”

“Okay,” he looked like he had all the time in the world. A couple of oak trees stood adjacent to the path and he leaned against one of them. “Tell me about it, Emma. I meant what I said. I want to be your friend.”