Joy (36 page)
He was angry with himself—not with her. She had an excuse; hormones were storming through her. He should have been the calm, reasonable one. Demanding that she give up the baby would never work, she'd keep it just because he said to get rid of it.
He needed to talk to someone who could help him convince Anya to do the right thing. He eyed the Bible on the bookcase. Pastor Ford? No, she'd definitely agree with Anya. Madear? No, Anya had probably run to her already.
He smacked his palm against his forehead. Braxton reached for the phone, then put it down. This was something he had to do in person. With one click of the mouse, he shut off the computer and headed out the door.
“My man!” Carlos smiled as he came into the reception area. “Como está? What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you, buddy.” Braxton kept his voice low as he glanced over at the receptionist. “Do you have a few minutes?”
Carlos glanced at his watch. “Sure, come on back.”
They moved silently, past Carlos's secretary, finally into his office.
“You sound serious, my man,” Carlos said, as he walked behind his desk.
Braxton sank into the chair opposite Carlos and shook his head slowly from side to side. “You're never going to believe this … this morning … we found out … from the doctor …” He paused as if he didn't want to say the final words. “Anya's pregnant…” He sat up straight and looked Carlos directly in the eye. “It's not mine—it's from the rape.”
It was a moment before Carlos released a long whistle. Without saying a word, he stood, and sat in the chair next to Braxton. “Oh, man! I can't believe this. So …” Carlos left his unasked question in the air.
“Anya wants to keep the baby,” Braxton answered him.
“You mean, have it and give it up for adoption?”
“I don't know what she's talking about, but it doesn't matter because she shouldn't have this baby at all. Even if she said she would give it up, I don't trust her—”
“Whoa, whoa.” Carlos held up his hands. “You're not saying you want her to have an abortion?”
Braxton looked at his friend incredulously. “Carlos, I came here for support. Please don't tell me you agree with her.”
“I'm not taking sides. I'm only saying that I'm not surprised at Anya. I'm surprised at you.”
Braxton slammed his hand on the edge of the chair. “What is with everybody? Abortion is legal, you know.”
“Man, you're asking Anya to go against everything she believes.”
“Look at this from my side. If this happened to Michele … tell me you'd want her to have the baby.”
“I wouldn't
want
her to have the baby, but if we were there—”
“Don't give me that crap!” Braxton said angrily. He stood and walked to the window, then turned back to face Carlos. “What am I supposed to do? Let her have this baby, then look at that monster every day!”
“Braxton, you have other options.”
Braxton slammed his fist into the palm of his hand, hearing Carlos utter the same words Anya had. “We don't have any options!” he yelled.
“Okay, calm down. Let's talk this out.”
“Talking won't do anything.”
“That's why you came here.”
“Well, I don't like what you're saying,” Braxton growled.
“Then you don't want to hear the truth.”
Braxton glared at Carlos for a few long moments, then slouched back down in the chair with a sigh.
“Man, I know this is tough.” Carlos scooted his chair so that he was in front of Braxton. “Have you talked to anyone else? Have you talked to Pastor?”
“No,” he replied quickly. “I know what she's going to say.”
“Why are you so against adoption?”
“Because once Anya sees this baby, she's going to keep it. She's already talking about it's half hers.”
“Try to see her side—”
“All I see is that man with his hands all over Anya, violating her in ways …”
Carlos put his hand on Braxton's shoulder. “Man …” Carlos took a deep breath. “Why don't you bring this up at Men's Prayer—”
“No!” Braxton jerked his head up before Carlos could finish. “I don't want
anyone
to know.”
“We can help you talk through this and—”
“I said, no!”
Carlos held up his hands. “All right. Well, you and I can do that together—talk and pray…”
Braxton nodded, but he had already dismissed Carlos from his mind. His best friend had let him down.
“There is one thing I recommend, man,” Carlos said. He paused, waiting for Braxton to look at him, but when he didn't, Carlos continued. “Don't push Anya. She needs your support right now.”
Braxton turned to face Carlos. “That's why she can't have this baby. If she thinks it's tough now, how will it be later?” Braxton spoke as if he were presenting his argument in front of a jury.
“But back off, man,” Carlos said strongly. “No matter what you think she should do, you can't push her. Or else …”
Braxton slouched in the chair, his eyes drooping from emotional exhaustion. The intercom on the desk buzzed.
“That's my four-thirty, but I can have one of the other attorneys handle this. We can go somewhere, maybe have a glass of wine.”
Braxton shook his head and stood up quickly. “We can get together later.”
It took a few moments for Carlos to agree. “I'll call you tonight. Are you going to be home?”
“Yeah,” Braxton said, although he didn't know where he'd be.
They hugged in silence, and Carlos sighed deeply as he watched Braxton walk out the door.
Braxton moved quickly through the long dark hall, to the elevator bank. A man and a woman, holding matching briefcases and wearing navy pinstripe suits, chatted as they waited. Braxton looked toward the staircase and thought about walking down to the lobby. But the number 12 on the door reminded him how high up he was in the downtown building. He turned back toward the elevators.
As he waited, Carlos's words played in his head.
Don't push Anya.
Braxton shook his head. Carlos was wrong and Braxton was sorry he told him. He didn't believe for one moment that Carlos would live the words he spoke if this was happening to his wife. No man would keep this baby.
Braxton knew how to handle his woman; Anya had to be pushed to be convinced. But not in the way he'd done this morning.
The elevator pinged its arrival, and Braxton stepped inside with the two dark-suits who didn't seem to notice him. As they descended, a plan began to form. By the time Braxton stepped off the elevator, there was a new confidence in his step. He knew what he had to do.
Anya climbed the stairs, her legs weak from emotion. Without turning on the light, she sat on her bed and clicked the machine for her messages. “You have four messages,” the mechanical voice said. “
Beep
… Anya, this is Braxton—”
She fast-forwarded to the next one. She did it again, then a third time, until her machine was clear. Then she did what she hadn't done in weeks—she turned off the ringer.
Just as she stood, she heard the patting of footsteps running up the steps. A few seconds later, Sasha appeared in her doorway.
“I thought you were working until closing tonight.”
“I did. It's almost ten.”
Anya looked at the clock. Had she been roaming around for that long? After she left Madear's, she'd driven around until the day's light gave way to the night. But even after darkness descended, she continued driving, finding her way onto the freeway. It wasn't until she saw the sign
DIAMOND BAR NEXT 5 EXITS
that she turned around and drove another seventy minutes back into Los Angeles.
“I could hardly work all day, thinking about this.” Sasha sat on the bed. “Are you going to have an abortion?”
Anya held her cousin's gaze for a long moment. “No,” she said softly, and turned away, waiting for Sasha's wrath.
“I didn't think so,” Sasha said simply.
Anya raised her eyebrows. “I thought you'd be ranting about how I can't have this baby.”
“If it were anyone else, I might be. But as I thought about it, I knew you guys wouldn't do that. It's a God thing, right?”
Anya released a bitter chuckle, remembering Braxton uttering those same words. “It's a God thing for me, but Braxton doesn't agree. If he had his way, we would have driven directly to an abortion clinic from the doctor's office this morning.”
Sasha had been lying on the bed, but now she sat up and crossed her legs under her. “Wow! This could be trouble.” She paused. “Anya, Braxton may be right. It might be better to have an abortion. Think about it; how are you going to actually have this baby?”
Anya didn't let a second pass. “I'm going to wait for my water to break, go to the hospital, get into one of those beds with stirrups and push.”
Sasha rolled her eyes. “You just found out this morning and you've already made a decision. You haven't given yourself enough time.”
A deep grunt came from Anya's throat. Sasha had no idea how much time she'd had. She looked at her cousin and, for the second time that day, thought about revealing her secret.
“Sasha, the main reason I can't abort this baby is because of God. I just know that all life comes from Him. But, there's something else.” She bit her lip. “This is not the first time I've been pregnant. And that time, I did what everyone wants me to do now.”
Sasha scooted closer to the window where Anya was standing. “I never knew that.” Her shock made her voice go up a pitch.
“I don't want to go into the whole horrid affair, but imagine this.” Anya paused and folded her arms across her chest. “A virgin freshman meets senior star football player. It takes a week to get her into bed and a month to get her pregnant. But it only took twenty minutes for him to forget that she exists.”
“He just left you … pregnant?”
“Right after he told me that he knew the baby wasn't his. Sasha, I was so scared. I'd been away from home for two months and I was pregnant. I just couldn't bear the thought of telling Madear. So I scrounged around for the money, and went to a clinic where a faceless, emotionless doctor scraped that baby out of me.” She said the words as if she were angry. “Then I went back to my dorm and cried for a week.”
“So no one knows about this?”
“Braxton knows. He knows how that abortion affected me. He knows about the dreams I had every night where I could hear my baby crying. He knows that I thought I was going crazy. But interestingly, that turned out to be one of the best things that happened to me.”
Sasha tilted her head like she was confused, but before she could open her mouth, Anya continued. “It landed me right in the arms of the Lord.”
“Was the doctor a Christian?”
Anya chuckled. “I don't think so, but my roommate, Maria, was.” Anya paused, remembering. “I was
so
ashamed. Here I was, a young woman raised in church and I had just had an abortion. I can't explain how empty I felt. But when I told Maria, she reminded me of what I just couldn't believe—that God still loved me and had already forgiven me. All I needed to do was forgive myself. It took a little while, but a few weeks later, I recommitted my life to the Lord, and my entire relationship with God changed.” Anya paused.
“I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, but I'm not going to repeat that one.”
“But, Anya, this is totally different. I understand your connection with the first baby but this—”
“The result is the same,” Anya interrupted. “There's a life inside of me and this time, God knows I know better.”
“It's hard for me to understand how you can put this in the context of God—it was a rape.”
“I don't understand it either, Sasha. But I don't have to. The only thing I have to understand is that this”—she placed her hand on her stomach—”has to be from the Lord. I don't have to keep this baby, but I have to birth it.”
Sasha shook her head slightly. “But what about Braxton?”
Anya looked out the window. Most of the lights in the homes across from her were darkened as families settled in. “I have to convince him because if I don't…”
“Anya, you and Braxton have come so far. Don't let this destroy your relationship.”
“But I can't let Braxton destroy my relationship with God. That's the most important relationship to me.”
Sasha stared at her cousin for a long moment, then stood and hugged her. They held each other silently, holding their thoughts inside. While Sasha closed her eyes and hoped that things would work out, Anya twirled the ring on her finger, and prayed that this wouldn't be the end that she had felt coming for a long time.
I
t was already after nine when Anya awakened and tapped on Sasha's door. When there was no answer, she opened the bedroom door slightly and peeked into the room. She sighed with relief at the sight of the empty bed.
She dragged herself to the kitchen, where she automatically reached for the Mr. Coffee pot, but then stopped her arm in mid-air.
Instead, she poured a glass of orange juice, and made a mental note not to bring coffee into the house. No need to tempt herself now that she was pregnant.
Pregnant. All night she had tossed while that word turned in her mind. She'd gone from thinking this was a nightmare to believing it was a blessing, back to a nightmare, then blessing again.
Taking only a sip of the juice, she put the glass down, then rubbed her arms trying to massage the tiredness that had settled deep in her bones. Questions flickered through her mind like flash cards. Should she keep the baby or give it up for adoption? Would she love this child or hate it? Would she think of the attack every time she looked at the baby or would she be able to put that behind her? Would she wonder about the father? No! That would never happen. Braxton would be the father. He
would
be the father if she kept the baby. She sighed. The questions overwhelmed her.
Outside the morning light was brilliant. She was already late for work, but she couldn't handle work today.
She called her office.
“Dianna, I'm not coming in today.”
“Didn't you say the same thing yesterday?”
Anya shook her head. She had the only assistant in America who would say that.
Aloud she said, “Well, I have something important to do, is that okay with you?”