Even Now (3 page)

Again Sheila took the initiative. “Certainly you’re much too young to have a baby.” She looked at her husband, Samuel, but his eyes were still aimed at the floor. Sheila turned her attention back to Lauren. “You’ll be giving the baby up for adoption, is that right?”

Angela wanted to cut in. Why was Sheila acting so harsh? She didn’t need to presume anything at this point. Angela held her breath. Shock must be having its way with her friend. That had to be it. Shock was having its way with all of them. How could anyone discuss adoption when they were still absorbing the idea of a baby?

Bill cleared his throat. “Let’s not be hasty, Sheila.” His tone was gentle, though Angela heard the weight of disappointment in his words. “This is hard for all of us. We need to hear the kids out.”

“Actually — ” Shane looked from Bill back to his parents — “Lauren and I . . . well, we want to keep the baby. We’ll still finish high school, and I’ll go to college the way I’d planned.” He licked his lips, but his words sounded like they were stuck to the roof of his mouth. “It won’t be easy.” He looked at Lauren and smoothed his hand over her hair. “But we know we can make it. We’re sure.”

The anger that sparked in Sheila’s eyes next was something new, something Angela had never seen before. Her friend paced to the window, stopped and spun around, all her focus on Shane. “That’s the most insane thing I’ve ever heard.”

Angela’s head was spinning. All around her people were making sweeping statements, statements that would change the course of their lives forever. Lauren was pregnant halfway through her junior year in high school? She was about to become a mother at just seventeen? How irresponsible and sneaky the kids had been, and how little Shane had cared for Lauren’s virtue. As if that wasn’t enough shock, Sheila already had the baby signed off and sent to another family. What about Shane’s desire to raise the baby and still attend college in a year?

None of it made sense, and in the end — after very little discussion — they could only agree on one thing: any decision on the matter would have to wait. Finally as the group stood, and an uncomfortable silence fell around them, Angela took Bill’s hand and went to Lauren. This was her little girl, her only child.

Angela searched her daughter’s face. All her dreams for Lauren were gone now, too far gone to salvage. Angela wanted to shake Lauren, scold her for compromising everything she held to be true, scream at her for being a party to the disaster at hand. The news was the worst Angela had ever dreamed possible.

But as bad as it was, it had to be worse for Lauren.

Surrounded by a silence that had gone from uncomfortable to awkward, Angela finally held out her arms and let Lauren come to her. It was Lauren’s life that would change the most now, so what option was there but to embrace her and give her the love and support she needed? After a few seconds, Bill put his arms around both of them and joined their tight circle. Angela wasn’t sure how long they stayed close like that, but finally they parted and the three of them left.

It took less than a week for Angela and Bill to reluctantly agree that Sheila — though hasty — was probably right. The best choice was for the kids to give up the baby. That way some of high school could be salvaged, and college would still lie ahead. They pulled Lauren aside on New Year’s Eve and shared their thoughts.

“We’d like to help you find an adoption agency.” Angela put her hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “It’d be the best thing for everyone, especially the baby.”

Lauren jerked away. “It isn’t up to you.” Her wide eyes darted from Angela to Bill. “It’s not up to Shane’s parents, either.” Her hand was on her abdomen, as if she were protecting her unborn baby from a life she had little control over. “Shane has a plan. He’ll still go to college.”

“It won’t work, Lauren.” Bill crossed his arms, the lines on his forehead deeper than before. He’d spent a lifetime adoring their daughter. Now his eyes made it clear he was hurting, buried beneath the burden of the trouble she was in. “You’re too young to raise a child. Where would you live?”

Angela forced herself to remain calm. “Besides, you’re a bright girl. You’re cheating yourself and your baby if you decide to raise a child now. You should be thinking of college, not how to change diapers.”

“I’m a writer, Mother.” She strained with every word, her cheeks red. “I don’t need school for that.”

“Yes, you do.” Angela looked at Bill. “Tell her.”

“Your mom’s right.” He put his arm around Lauren’s shoulder. “Honey, the timing is wrong. Think of the baby.”

Lauren pulled away from him and ran to her room. Her crying filled the house all that week, bringing a somber end to Christmas break. On Sunday, Lauren called Shane and the two talked for hours. When she came out of her room, her eyes were swollen from crying. Angela and Bill tried to talk to her, but she had only a few words for them. “We won’t do it.” She sniffed and ran her fingers beneath her eyes. “We won’t give up our baby.”

The discussion wore on every day for weeks after that, though Angela and Bill avoided telling Sheila and Samuel about the kids’ decision. School started again, and Lauren and Shane managed to keep their news a secret from their peers. At least three times a week, Sheila Galanter called and gave what felt like an ultimatum: “Talk some sense into her, Angela. I don’t want these kids to lose everything over one mistake.”

Angela should’ve seen the signs those first few months of the new year, should’ve realized what was coming. Sheila’s clipped tone whenever she called, the absence of dinner invitations and shared weekend evenings. Most of all, the way things changed between the men. For a decade, investors had come to Bill and Samuel with offers to buy their bank. Once in a while the men would talk about selling and investing the profits in something new, maybe moving their families to the suburbs. But they never seriously considered the idea.

Not until after Lauren and Shane’s announcement.

When an offer on the bank came in late January, the four of them decided to sell and move on. Though they talked about heading to the Chicago suburbs, by March the Galanters had a different plan.

“We’re moving to Los Angeles.”

Angela stared from her friend to Samuel, speechless. They’d stopped by unexpectedly, saying they had something to tell Angela and Bill. Just Angela and Bill.

Not the kids.

“We have other investments there. I know it’s a long ways away, but we’ll still see each other.” Sheila’s smile looked forced. “And this way the kids can have a break from each other.”

Angela and Bill agonized long hours about telling Lauren, but in the end they kept the news to themselves. The move was still months off, and there was no point fueling the intensity of the kids’ feelings for each other. As the Galanters’ secret plans quickly came together, Sheila continued her phone calls to Angela. “She’s your daughter. Talk some sense into her. These kids don’t need that sort of responsibility. Not yet.” On another phone call she pushed it further. “Maybe you should tell Lauren we’re thinking of moving. Maybe that would change her mind.”

Angela was appalled. “You mean blackmail her? Tell her you’ll stay if she gives up the baby?”

“I’m just saying it might make a difference. We need an answer, Angela. Tell us what she’s going to do.”

The entire situation felt like it was attached to one of those odd-shaped bouncy balls, ricocheting out of control. Twice more Angela talked with Lauren about her intentions, but her daughter never wavered.

She and Shane wanted to keep their baby. As soon as they were out of high school, they would marry and start their lives together.

Finally Angela couldn’t put Sheila off another day. On March 12, Angela asked her friend over so she could break the news. She served coffee and cream, and they took their places in the Andersons’ familiar sunroom.

Angela wasted no time getting to the point. “Lauren wants to keep the baby.” She folded her hands in her lap. They were sitting on white wicker furniture, the sun streaming through the window. Bill was at the new bank in Wheaton, an hour out of Chicago, getting things set up. Lauren was at school.

“That’s ridiculous.” Sheila brushed her hand through the air, erasing Angela’s statement. “She’s too young to know what she wants.”

“Sheila, listen — ” Angela searched her friend’s eyes — “I can’t change her mind. I won’t.”

At that, Sheila’s expression hardened, and her cheeks grew red. “Of course you can, Angela. You’re her mother. She’s a minor. She’ll do whatever you tell her to do.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Dead serious.” Sheila’s voice raised a notch.

“You think I can force my daughter to give away her baby?” Angela squinted at the woman sitting next to her. When had Sheila become so heartless? “She may be a minor, but the baby is
hers.
I can’t make this decision for her.”

“Of course you can.” Sheila set her coffee cup down and slid to the edge of the sofa. Even as her voice fell, her sharp tone sliced through the growing tension. “
My
son has a future. He isn’t going to stay here while his pregnant girlfriend has a baby.” A fine layer of perspiration broke out across her brow. “Absolutely not.”

“His pregnant girlfriend?” Angela laughed, but without a trace of humor. “Is that all Lauren is now? Shane’s pregnant girlfriend? Shane had a little something to do with it too.”

“Shane’s a teenage boy.” Sheila spat the words. “If a girl makes herself available, what teenage boy wouldn’t take advantage of her?”

A chill passed over Angela. “Listen to you.” She stood and looked down at the woman she’d considered her friend. Had she ever really known her? “This is
Lauren
you’re talking about.”

“No.” Sheila raised her hand. Her fingers were shaking. “This is my son’s future we’re talking about.” She sat back a few inches and the lines in her forehead eased. “Be sensible, Angela. The last thing these kids need is more time together. We’re both moving the first week of June. Shane’s coming with us. That’s final.” Her hesitation was cool, indifferent.

Angela felt like she’d been kicked in the gut. How had Angela been so wrong about the woman, trusting her all these years? “We’ve been friends for a long time, Sheila.”

“And my son’s future will go on far longer.” Sheila’s tone lightened some. “I’m sorry, Angela. This isn’t your fault, it’s just — ” she narrowed her eyes, intent — “the kids need to be apart.”

Her words put their friendship on the firing line. Angela was angry at Sheila’s tone and her accusation that Lauren’s pregnancy made Shane a victim and Lauren the villain. But suddenly there was more, and Angela was able to look ahead.

In that moment she could stare hard down the road and see what her daughter’s life would be like with Sheila Galanter as a mother-in-law.

It would be a life doomed to guilt and shame and never being good enough. The past would forever be brought out and examined, commented on with a series of tongue clucks and disdainful looks in Lauren’s direction. The idea made Angela’s heart hurt. She would never wish that for her daughter. How
dare
Sheila take that attitude about Lauren, as if Shane were the only one affected by what had happened?

“Okay.” Angela straightened in the chair and leveled her gaze at Sheila. “I agree.”

Sheila sat all the way back, the fight suddenly gone. “You do?”

“Yes. Completely.”

Sheila’s voice was almost a whisper. “What about the baby?”

Angela knew the answer as well as she knew her own name. Lauren was going to keep the child. She and Bill would do whatever they could to help Lauren be successful as a single mom. For however long Lauren needed them.

She cleared her throat. “We’ll talk to Lauren again. I think you’re right. We can convince her about this. Especially if Shane’s gone from her life.”

Of course, it was a lie. Lauren wouldn’t give up her baby. But saying the false words came easily now that she too was ready to cut ties with the Galanters. Angela didn’t blink. “That’ll be best for everyone.”

Relief flooded Sheila’s features. “Yes. I’d hate to have a grandchild on the other side of the country and not know about it.”

Angela wanted to stand up and shout at the woman.
You
already
have a grandchild growing inside my daughter! You’re so blind and vain and empty you’d do anything to protect your son’s reputation. Even this.
Instead she stood and motioned to the door. “She’ll give the baby up. Don’t worry about it.” She crossed her arms and took a step toward the backyard. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do. As you said, there’s no point pretending about our friendship.”

Sheila looked almost as if she might apologize for making such a statement, but the look passed. She stood, collected her purse and car keys, and headed for the entryway. When Angela heard the door shut it was like gunfire, and something deep inside her heart took its last breath, shuddered, and died. Angela knew exactly what it was.

Her friendship with Sheila Galanter.

S
omething was wrong with their parents.

Lauren was sitting in Shane’s Camry, just outside her parents’ house, and she could feel it. Almost like a force, something bigger than the two of them or their families or anything they’d ever come up against. A steady snow had been falling on the windshield for half an hour and now they couldn’t see out. It was a picture of their lives, really. Living life on the inside, with no way to see out, no way for anyone else to see in.

Shane gripped the steering wheel with both hands and looked straight ahead at the white nothingness. They’d known each other as far back as they could remember, and Shane was always the first one in a room to smile or tell a joke. But in the last few months he’d grown quiet and anxious, trapped and searching for a way out. “Maybe — ” he looked at her, looked straight to her soul — “we should drive off and never look back.”

“Maybe.” She turned and leaned against the passenger door.

They were supposed to see a movie that night, but instead they drove around town, scared and silent. No one at school knew she was pregnant, but they would soon. She was four months along now. Already she could barely button her jeans. Reality was closing in on them like a vice grip.