Take Three (18 page)

“You were always so happy, Andi.” Lisa hoped her daughter could see the concern in her eyes. “You lit up every room you ever entered. And now…now we don’t know how to find that in you again.”

“You’ve only been home three days.” Her words were practically mumbled, and she wouldn’t make eye contact with them.

“This has been going on longer than that.” Keith put his hand on Andi’s other shoulder. “We want you to get help, baby. That’s all.”

For most of the brief talk, Lisa had been praying and now she begged God that Andi would understand. She watched her daughter, wondering how they could possibly feel so distant from each other. For a moment she thought Andi might argue, or worse—refuse to go. Instead she looked long at both of them and slowly nodded. “Fine.” She stood and again fear tinged her voice. “I don’t think it’ll help, but I’ll go.” She started toward the hallway. “I’ll be in my room until then.”

When she was gone, Lisa looked at Keith. “What do you think?”

“You want to know?” Keith’s shoulders hunched forward a little. He looked like he might break down. “I feel like I’m losing my little girl.” He looked out the window, clearly struggling with his composure. “Like someone took my daughter and replaced her with a stranger…someone I don’t even know.”

Tears blurred Lisa’s vision. “Maybe…we’ve been too busy.”

“Of course we’ve been too busy.” Keith raised his voice, but then shook his head, clearly frustrated with himself. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.” He shaded his eyes with his hand, and when he looked up, the desperation in his eyes was evident. “What am I doing, Lisa? Spending my days making
movies
?” He seemed to
almost spit out the last word. “I have this big dream to change the world with film, but at what cost?” He waved his hand toward the hallway. “At the cost of losing Andi? Because if that’s the cost, I’ll be like Chase and quit. I can’t do it.”

Lisa wanted to say something wise and compassionate, a Scripture or bit of advice that would calm her husband and give him hope that he didn’t need to quit making movies in order to reach their daughter. But the words wouldn’t come. “Maybe we’ll know more after today.”

Keith nodded. “I’ll go with you to the appointment.” He stood and pulled Lisa into his arms. “But I mean it. I’ll turn the whole thing over to Dayne if that’s what it takes. I can’t stand by and watch her slip away.”

They held onto each other for several minutes, both in silence and in prayer for their daughter. As they got ready for the appointment, Lisa thought about what her husband had said, and she agreed. If they had to leave moviemaking, so be it. They needed to do whatever they could to reach their daughter, to help her become the young woman she’d been before this year at school.

Now Lisa could only pray it wasn’t too late.

A
NDI SAT RIGIDLY
,
SILENTLY BETWEEN HER
parents in a non-descript chair in the stuffy lobby of the Bloomington Christian Counseling Center and tried to imagine how she’d let herself get into this situation. Had she really gotten into a car with her parents and willingly come here? When she’d lied to her parents every few hours since they’d arrived in Bloomington?

Nausea welled inside her and made her wonder if she’d survive the hour. This visit was a waste of their time and money, and Andi felt terrible for agreeing to it. But maybe if she gave the right answers and got through the hour, her parents would stop worrying about her. She needed an abortion clinic, not a counseling center. She’d made up her mind. And until then she couldn’t begin to figure out who she’d been back in the fall or whether she even wanted to find her way back to that girl. But none of that was her parents’ fault, so that’s why she was here.

A kind-faced older woman stepped into the lobby and smiled at them. “Andi Ellison?”

A moment of disbelief consumed her as she rose to her feet. Was this really happening? Her mother squeezed her hand and whispered, “We love you.”

Andi nodded absently and then followed the woman to a room halfway down a carpeted hallway. “Caroline will be right with you,” the kind woman smiled, and then she was gone.

This would be the perfect time to run. Andi looked around the room, but there was no door. Just the one that led back to the hallway, and there would be no way past the woman at the front
desk. She reminded herself to breathe as she looked around the room. It was inviting, with a small fireplace and two comfortable leather chairs facing each other. A framed water feature hung on one wall, and on the other was an enormous aquarium situated on a table that seemed custom-built for it. A painting hung over the fireplace with the Scripture, “Cast your cares on Him, for He cares for you.” The entire room exuded a peace Andi had forgotten about.

She sat in one of the leather chairs and a minute later another woman entered the room, this one trim and neatly dressed, maybe in her mid-thirties. “Andi, hello.” She held out her hand. “I’m Caroline. I’m a counselor.”

Andi nodded and shook the woman’s hand. “Hello.”
You’re a fraud, Andi Ellison
, she told herself.
Stop wasting everyone’s time. This woman can’t help you.
She forced the voices in her head to cease so she could carry on a conversation.

The woman was calm and in no hurry to get to the reasons behind Andi’s supposed depression. She asked about Andi’s year at Indiana University and what sort of things she’d been involved in. Against her will, Andi found the woman easy to talk to. Because she was a stranger, not someone emotionally invested in Andi’s right or wrong choices, the answers came easily.

“What about guys?” Caroline’s smile didn’t hold a hint of judgment. “Did you date anyone special this year?”

The question caught her heart off guard. Anyone special? Someone like Cody Coleman or Tim Reed? Sure, Andi had met guys like that, but she hadn’t dated them. “I…uh…I haven’t met a lot of special guys. Not really special.”

“But you met some?”

“I guess. My roommate has a couple special guys in her life.” Andi hadn’t cried since the days after she learned she was pregnant. But here when she hadn’t expected to feel anything, she was realizing something she hadn’t before. Her voice fell. “I think I forgot what special really meant.”

“Hmmm. Yes, that happens sometimes.”

“I did date someone, to answer your question.” She looked down at her knees. “He was a film major.”

“I see.” Caroline still maintained an absolutely kind tone. “Did you think he was a special guy at first?”

Did she? Andi blinked and a few tears dropped to her lap. No, she hadn’t thought Taz was special, not if she was honest with herself. Dangerous and charismatic, bold and daring. Risky, certainly. She shook her head, working to find her voice. “No…not special. He was…he was different from the guys I was supposed to date. He complimented me and told me he’d never met anyone so beautiful.”

“I see.” Caroline paused. “Do you remember, Andi…what you were hoping to get out of dating this guy?”

Hoping to get? She stared at her knees again. “My friend Rachel was killed in a car accident.”

Caroline sat back, her eyes tender and patient, waiting for Andi to explain herself.

“What I mean is,” Andi sniffed. “Rachel was waiting for a special guy, someone…strong in his faith. The kind of guy you marry. But…she died before…” A swell of tears caught Andi off guard.

A box of tissues sat on a small coffee table between the two leather chairs. Caroline slid it closer to Andi. “It’s okay. We have time.”

Andi nodded and took a few tissues. What was she doing, spilling everything to this woman? And how come she’d agreed to an appointment with a counselor before she’d thought through this stuff? “I think…I dated Taz because he was different. He was dangerous.” She dabbed her nose and held the tissues tight in her hand. “I wanted to live like everyone else. Not have to wait for someone special.”

“The way Rachel waited.”

“Right.” Andi hadn’t hurt this much over losing Rachel in a very long time. But the pain was as real and raw now as it had been the day she got the news. “Rachel lived for God.” She gave a sad shrug. “Where did it get her?”

“Where do you think it got her?”

Andi thought for a moment. The answer was obvious, but she hadn’t really voiced it. “I think she’s in heaven, if that’s what you mean.” Andi looked at Caroline through bleary eyes. “You’re saying she’s in heaven because she lived right?”

“No.” Caroline smiled, her patience and understanding limitless. “She’s in heaven because Jesus died on the cross for her salvation, and she trusted Him for eternal life.” Caroline paused. “So why did Rachel live right when she was here on earth?”

“Because…” Andi hadn’t worked through this part before. “Because she loved God, and she wanted to. Rachel wanted to live right.”

“So tell me, Andi…was Rachel an unhappy girl?”

New tears sprang to Andi’s eyes and she pictured Rachel Baugher, the bigger-than-life kindness she had for everyone she met, the way her eyes and her smile could warm a person on the coldest day of the year. She took another tissue and pressed it to her eyes as she shook her head again. “Rachel loved her family and her friends. She loved school and helping people. She loved me.” A small sob came from her and she hesitated until she had more control. “Rachel was one of the happiest people I ever knew. Just like my roommate this year.”

Caroline nodded slowly, her sad smile filled with a wisdom that made it easy to believe she cared. “Your roommate?”

“Bailey.” Andi stood and crossed the room, dropping the damp tissues in a trash can near the door. When she returned, she sat down and met Caroline’s gaze again. “Bailey’s the same way. She wants to live right.”

“And she’s happy?”

“Very happy.” There was no need for the counselor to draw conclusions. Andi was drawing them for herself. Rachel and Bailey stayed away from parties and wild guys. They didn’t drink or pose nude for some stupid student picture, and they certainly would never trade their virginity for a month of craziness. Yet they were happy, their lives filled with love and peace and laughter—the way Andi’s had once been. Meanwhile, Andi was unable to get out of bed, practically drugged with the desire to sleep, and unable to remember even how it felt to smile. She was pregnant and afraid and unwilling to tell her parents the truth.

“Are you happy now?” Caroline kept all sarcasm from her voice, as if she truly wasn’t sure what Andi’s answer would be even after all she’d said.

It wasn’t a question Andi had given much thought to, but the answer was ludicrously simply. “No.” She made a sound that was more cry than laugh. “I’m not happy.”

They talked a little longer about Taz and the way he’d treated her. Every sentence was excruciating for Andi, since she knew now that he had only used her. He’d gotten what he wanted from her and dumped her like moldy remains of yesterday’s roses. Caroline never quite asked her if she was pregnant, but she did ask how Andi was feeling now. “Are you able to move on? Or do you feel somehow trapped by your time with Taz?”

Andi hesitated. This was the line she wasn’t willing to cross. “I’m working on it.”

“Okay, that’s a start.” Caroline leaned over her knees, her voice slightly more intense than before. “Who’s helping you?”

“Helping me?”

“Yes. Andi, when you have something to work through, it’s important to have guidelines or rules. Time-tested wisdom that will help you make healthy choices as you go.” Caroline reached for a worn leather Bible next to her chair. “A starting place, of course, is Scripture. When you’re not happy, one great way to help yourself is to line up your actions with the truth of the Bible.”

“Yes.”
After my abortion
, Andi told herself.

“Is there someone you trust…someone you could share your thoughts with, someone you could present your plan to, so that together you could see if that plan measures up with God’s Word?”

Her parents, of course. And Bailey. Maybe Bailey’s mother. But if she told any of them the truth—that she was pregnant and planning to have an abortion—the truth in God’s Word would prevent her from getting the only sort of help she needed right now. And she couldn’t embarrass her parents now, not with all of Bloomington excited about their arrival, their plans for making movies in the city. She’d heard her father talking the other night to Dayne Matthews. They were worried that Brandon Paul’s partying could hurt the film and Jeremiah Productions. She could only imagine what her pregnancy would do to them.

Andi looked at her watch. She needed to get out of here. They would only talk in circles on this issue. She cleared her throat. “Yes. I have people I can talk to.”

“Good.” Caroline was quiet for a moment. “Andi, your mother’s concerned that you might be pregnant. Is that something you’re concerned about?”

What? Her mother suspected that? Andi swallowed hard and shook her head, recovering as quickly as she could. “No. No, I’m not concerned about that.” Andi felt the slightest bit of relief. She’d told the truth, right? She wasn’t concerned about being pregnant. She already
knew
she was pregnant. After her abortion next week, she wouldn’t be concerned about that either.

Caroline wasn’t about to call her a liar or ask her a second time. Instead she slid to the edge of her seat, her eyes shining with an even deeper compassion than before. “I’m here, Andi. Your parents know how to reach me. You can come back next week or more often, if you’d like. The important thing is that you have a chance to process how you’re feeling.” She kept her pace
unrushed. “I want you to go home and think about the things you told me. About Rachel and Bailey and the guys they like to date. About how happy they are, and about why they’re happy.” Caroline smiled. “You have wonderful parents who love you. They’ve raised you with the truth, is that right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Andi’s heart was beating harder than before. She couldn’t wait to leave.

“That’s right. You know the answers, Andi. I’m just here to help you remember them.”

Andi thanked the counselor. “Am I done?”

“For today.” Caroline hesitated. “Would you mind if I talked to your parents to fill them in on a little of our conversation? They just want to make sure you’re okay. I don’t have to talk to them if you’d rather I didn’t.”

“Um…sure, you can talk to them.” Andi figured that if the counselor talked to her parents, they might stop worrying about her. She signed a form stating that Caroline could discuss their session, thanked the counselor again, and headed down the hall to the lobby. But with every step, her heart beat faster. What was this about talking to her parents? Did Caroline know Andi was lying, that she really was pregnant? Or would she tell her parents to take Andi immediately to a doctor’s office for a pregnancy test? Andi wouldn’t do it. She couldn’t. She tried to stand a little taller, look a little more composed. That way her mom and dad would think they’d spent their money wisely and that Andi was on her way back to being the girl they remembered her being.

Her parents were on their feet as soon as she walked through the door. They didn’t rush toward her, but their eyes were filled with questions and hope. Her mom spoke first. “How did it go?”

“Good.” Andi remembered to smile, at least a little. “Her name’s Caroline. She wants to talk to you before we go.”

“I’m proud of you, honey.” Her dad kissed her cheek. “I know
it wasn’t easy for you to come here. But sometimes we need a little help.”

Andi’s heart raced, but she forced herself to look happier than before. “Thanks, Daddy. That means a lot.” She watched her parents walk down the hall and she took her same seat in the lobby. This time her knees were shaking. What sort of person was she, lying to her parents, pretending a session with a Christian counselor had cured her problems? She was the worst possible daughter. If she could walk across the street and have the abortion now, she would. Because then she could start figuring out who she was going to be from that point forward. She could hardly be the old Andi, the untainted, innocent Andi. That girl was gone forever. Now she was a used-up coward, a person unfit to be a mother or a daughter. She had walked away from God and her parents and her upbringing, and every time she opened her mouth she spoke nothing but lies. But at least she wasn’t going to shame her parents. Not by having a baby.

Andi thought about her time with Caroline. There was one thing she’d learned from her time with the counselor, a truth that would stay with her forever. Rachel and Bailey had special guys in their lives, of course that much she already knew. But today she finally figured out why no special guys had sought after her. The answer was simple, and it brought with it a sting of tears.

Special guys wanted special girls.