Take Three (26 page)

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Authors: Karen Kingsbury

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BOOK: Take Three
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“Wait!” Bailey looked up. “Tim talked to her yesterday afternoon. He called her around noon. She told him she was staying with friends, thinking of taking classes there.”

“Same thing she told us.” Lisa frowned. “We’re here because we hoped you might know these girls, the friends she’s staying with.”

“No.” Bailey frowned. “I have an idea who they are. One’s a girl named Sherry. She’s involved in theater.”

“Do you know her last name?”

“No.”

Lisa’s mind raced. “There has to be someone who would know. Maybe if we talk to Tim.”

“Absolutely. He might not have told me everything.” Bailey rattled off Tim’s number and Lisa dialed it.

But after a brief conversation, the call ended. “He doesn’t know anything. Just that she sounded upbeat.”

“Which maybe does tell us something.” Jim had been thinking. He put his arm around Jenny and looked from her to the others. “If she just had an abortion, I doubt she’d be taking a call from Tim Reed.”

“True.” This was helping. Even if no one had any exact answers, they were getting somewhere.

“You’re pretty sure you know which clinic she’s been in contact with?” Jenny’s tone was grave.

“We found the name and an address written on a piece of paper in her room.” Had the expectations they’d placed on her really been so hard to live up to? So much that she couldn’t face them in her greatest hour of need?

Please God…we need an answer, some sort of direction. We’re getting nowhere, and Andi needs us.
“Maybe…maybe if we pray for her.”

They all agreed, and for the next several minutes they took turns asking God to protect Andi, to prompt her to call home. And they asked Him for a sign, some sort of direction so that if Andi was resistant to their help, they could find her.

The prayer ended and Lisa was about to thank the Flanigans for their time when her phone vibrated. It was still in her hand from the call to Tim, and Lisa saw that a text message had come in from Andi. “It’s her!” She tapped a few buttons and there it was, Andi’s latest message.

She took a quick breath and read it out loud. “It says, ‘
Hi Mom…I know you’re mad at me, and I’m sorry. I’m really okay. But it looks like I won’t be coming home until Tuesday evening.
’” Lisa paused, distraught at this latest news. “
‘The girls and I are having fun, and we want a few days to look around the campus here. Thanks for understanding.
’” She shrugged. “That’s all she said.” In the old days, she never would’ve texted Lisa without saying she loved her. But now…she must’ve been so racked with guilt and shame she couldn’t even think clearly.

“You know what that means…” Jenny looked at Lisa.

“Her appointment—if she has an appointment—must be Monday morning.”

“Exactly.” Bailey hadn’t said much. She still looked pale and shocked—worried sick about her friend. “Someone has to be there.”

Jim clasped his hands hard, his knuckles white. “If she were my daughter, I’d be waiting at the clinic for her tomorrow morning.”

“Absolutely.” The idea was the most natural answer of all. Lisa’s heart lifted for the first time since they’d heard the news about Andi’s pregnancy. “We can see if the clinic has a website. Find out their hours and be there first thing in the morning.”

“We could wait in the parking lot and pray for her.” Keith
looked relieved. “Just in case. I mean, the text coming when it did. We have to believe that’s a sign, that God’s leading us to her.”

They talked for a few more minutes, and the Flanigans promised to keep praying. Before they left, Bailey hugged Lisa. “When you see her, tell her I love her. I’m here for her.”

“I will.” Lisa couldn’t express how much Bailey’s comment meant.

With that, Lisa and Keith hurried home again. On the way, Lisa texted Andi, asking if she’d please call. But there was no response. They tried several more attempts at reaching her, but she didn’t answer, and no more text messages came the rest of the evening. They found a website for the Indianapolis Family Planning Center, and they learned that the clinic opened at nine the next day. After that there was nothing to do but pray and wait.

They’d be on the road to Indianapolis first thing in the morning.

Twenty-Five

L
UKE
B
AXTER HAD BEEN ON THE
road far more often than usual, and he was grateful for a weekend at home. Even still he’d be back in Los Angeles by tomorrow night for one more round of meetings. He’d talked to Dayne, and for now at least it looked like Jeremiah Productions was ready to finalize the deal with Brandon Paul.

“We have our reservations, but that’s where you come in,” Dayne told him. “The contract has to be a steel trap. No loopholes, brother.” Dayne laughed. “Of course, that’s why we have you. You’re the best.”

Already Luke was hammering out a first draft of the contract. Money wouldn’t be an issue. Any studio in town would take on the movie and pay Brandon’s considerable salary for a chance to have a picture with him. It was the other details that concerned Dayne and Keith—the morality clauses, that if broken, could destroy the movie.

Luke loved the challenge as much as he loved the personnel changes at Jeremiah Productions. Chase would be missed, of course. But he needed to be home with his family, and now Luke could work more closely with Dayne, his brother. After a lifetime of missing out on having a brother, these days were golden—getting to work with Dayne, being close to him.

The only downside lately was the time he’d spent away from home. Now it was Sunday night and he’d tucked Tommy in four times already. Tommy was still telling people he was a Tommysaurus Rex—the meanest dinosaur of all. If his behavior at bedtime
was any indication, Luke could only believe him. But on the last round of good nights, Luke had used a more serious voice. “This is it, buddy. Don’t get up again.”

A repentant look came over Tommy and he settled down on his pillow. “Okay, Daddy.” He waved his fingers, meek-like. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just don’t get up.”

“Okay.” One more quick wave. “Wuv you.”

“Love you too.” Luke stifled a grin as he left his son’s room. Malin was already asleep down the hall, so finally he could go find Reagan. He’d told her to take the night off, curl up with a book while he managed the bedtime routine. It was the least he could do since he’d been gone so much lately. He tiptoed down the stairs, past the place where Tommy had gotten his head stuck in the spindles when they first moved into the house. He found Reagan in a T-shirt and comfy-looking sweats, reading
Unlocked
next to an open window.

She smiled up at him. “The breeze is amazing. I can smell the jasmine you planted last summer.”

He sat beside her and breathed in. “It’s great.”

“See?” She leaned close and kissed him. “I knew you’d like it.”

“I believed you.” He nuzzled up against her. “I always believe you.”

“Mmm.” Reagan looked straight at him, past the lighthearted banter between them. “Like about the adoption?”

“Exactly.” He grinned and crooked his finger beneath her chin, kissing her more slowly this time. “But that one didn’t take any convincing. I’d love another baby.”

“You don’t care—girl or boy?”

“Nope. Whatever baby God brings us is fine with me.” He felt relaxed and content. Being with Reagan filled his senses, and the smell of jasmine only heightened the moment. Like the peacefulness of the night would go on forever. He leaned back, watching her. “Our paperwork’s in, right?”

“Everything’s done. The agency called last week. It’s just a matter of a birth mother choosing us, finding the right match.”

It was the first time they’d done a domestic adoption, and Luke was a little nervous about the fact. International adoptions like Malin’s carried virtually no risk of a birth mother showing up after so many years with a lawyer in tow. But this time around they were willing to consider a more open adoption. Children were on loan anyway. That’s what his mother had always said. “God’s probably picking a baby for us right now.”

“I’ve been thinking about her lately.” Reagan pressed her head into the sofa cushion, a dreamy look on her face.

“So now it’s a girl?” Luke was teasing her, enjoying the easy way they had with each other. Their marriage had only gotten stronger this last year, and now that they were dreaming about a third child, Luke felt like God was blessing them beyond anything he could’ve imagined.

“Not the baby, silly.” Reagan’s expression deepened. “The girl, the birth mother. She’s out there somewhere. Maybe already pregnant. Trying to decide what to do with a pregnancy she didn’t plan for.”

“Hmm.” Luke angled his head, imagining the same thing. “I haven’t thought about that.”

“I think God put the idea on my heart. We pray for the baby all the time, of course.”

“For years.” Luke was serious. They’d known from the beginning that Reagan couldn’t have more biological children after Tommy. Which meant whenever they prayed about their family, they prayed for the children yet to come, the boys or girls only God knew about.

“So maybe it’s time we pray for the girl, our baby’s birth mother.”

“What if she’s in her forties—and this baby just doesn’t fit in her plans?”

Reagan giggled. “Girl, woman. Whatever.” Her laughter faded. “I’m serious. We should pray for her, don’t you think?”

Luke was quiet, thinking about the troubled mother somewhere out there in the city of Indianapolis, maybe just getting news of an unwanted pregnancy or worse—thinking about whether to release the baby for adoption or abort. A shudder ran through him and he sat up straighter. “You’re right. Let’s pray for her.”

“Right now?” Reagan leaned forward too. Her face close to Luke’s.

A sense of urgency filled Luke’s heart, robbing him of some of the serenity from just a few minutes ago. He pictured this woman—young or old—one more time. The woman who might even this moment be carrying their next child. “Yeah, baby. I think so. Right now.” Then he took Reagan’s hands in his and prayed with an intensity that surprised him—that God would know exactly who the birth mother of their baby was, and that even this very night he would surround her with his angels and protect her and the baby. That God would grant her peace in her decision, and finally one last thing.

That he’d grant her baby life.

A
NDI WANTED TO GET THERE EARLY
.

Her appointment was for nine that morning, but the woman she’d talked to said they opened the doors half an hour early. So their clients could avoid the protestors who sometimes gathered near the front of the clinic during business hours. The last thing Andi wanted was to run into a protestor—someone who would scream threats in her face and call her names for killing her baby.

She wanted to slip in unnoticed, and slip back into life the same way. The problem gone, no one the wiser for what she’d done. No one but her and God. Of course, she hadn’t planned
on thinking much about God this day, but all that changed at the Kunzmann house. Their family lived and breathed God’s presence. His Word and truth, His ways and peace were a part of everything the Kunzmann family said and did. There was no getting around it.

Before she left this morning, Lucia pulled her aside. “Your appointment is this morning, right?”

“Yes.” Andi couldn’t make eye contact with the woman. She didn’t deserve the woman’s kindness, and she felt ashamed for what she was about to do. As if by looking into Lucia’s eyes, the woman would know exactly where she was headed.

“Before you go, let’s pray. Whatever’s wrong with you, Andi, God knows. He will meet you there.”

Praying before an abortion? Andi’s heart pounded in her throat, but she couldn’t escape. Before she knew what was happening, Lucia had hold of her hands and she was praying, asking the Holy Spirit to be Andi’s constant companion in the coming hours, and asking that Andi hear His voice whatever lay ahead. It was like Lucia already knew her plans. Like God Himself had told her.

Andi pulled into a bank parking lot across the street from the clinic and slumped behind the steering wheel.
What’re you worried about?
she asked herself.
No one knows you’re here.
For a full minute she surveyed the clinic across the street, making sure there were no protestors, no one to interfere with her quick and certain entrance. She placed her hand on her stomach and wondered if her baby would feel what was about to happen. As soon as the question hit her, she banished it. The woman at the clinic had promised her there was no baby. The only thing her body contained right now was tissue. Tissue that would become a baby.

Ashley Baxter’s face came to mind, telling her that people at abortion clinics would lie to her. The ultrasound told the real story. Growing inside her was a very tiny baby and a very tiny heart.
She felt sick to her stomach, and finally she’d had enough. She jolted from the car and ran lightly across the street. But just as she was about to cross into the clinic parking lot, a man stepped in front of her.

“Hello.” He was older, white hair and a neatly trimmed white beard. His eyes were so piercing blue, they almost looked otherworldly. “I’m Clarence.” He checked his watch. “I thought you’d be early, Andi.”

A slice of terror cut at Andi and she took a few frantic steps back. How did he know her name? “Don’t…please don’t hurt me.”

The man stepped aside, but even though her path to the clinic was wide open, Andi had the sense she couldn’t get by the gentleman, no matter what she tried. His voice was soft as he tried again. “I’m not here to harm you. I bring you truth. Please…” he held a pamphlet to her. “Take this. Your appointment’s not until nine o’clock.”

“How do you…I don’t have an appointment. I’m just…I’m looking into it.”

He watched her, kind and gentle. “I’ve prayed for you and your baby…I’ve prayed all morning.” He was still holding out the brochure. “Please take this. Go back to your car and read it.” What was it about his eyes? He smiled at her, and his tenderness touched her much the way she felt when she was around her father. She made a quick grab of the pamphlet and looked around, hoping no one else could see them.

“You’ll read it? For your baby?”

“There’s no ba—”

He held up one hand and nodded at her. “Read it. I’ll be praying.”

She still had the sensation she couldn’t get past the older gentleman, even if she made a run for it. So instead she turned around and ran the other way. Halfway to her car she turned
back to see which way the man went, where he’d come from. But he was gone. Her heart thudded in her neck, making it hard to breathe. Where was he? Clarence, right? Wasn’t that his name? He was too old to race off, and there was no other car or doorway in sight. Could he be hiding in the bushes? Was that how he handed his material to unsuspecting girls like her? And how had he known her name?

Shaking from fear and the adrenaline coursing through her, Andi ran as fast as she could back to her car. She didn’t want to stay here. What if the man turned up by her car somehow? She set the pamphlet down on her passenger seat, started her engine, and pulled out of the bank parking lot as fast as she could. Halfway down the block she saw a public library, and she turned her car quickly into the parking lot. It was empty, so she could be alone—without wondering whether the man with the strange eyes was watching her.

Her forehead was damp with sweat, and her heart still sped along at double speed inside her chest. What sort of crazy thing had just happened to her? She’d scanned the parking lot and made sure no one—absolutely no one—was lurking anywhere near the clinic. She’d been walking toward the parking lot, her eyes fixed on the clinic door, and he was suddenly there. From out of nowhere.

She made sure her doors were locked, and she leaned her head against the seat rest.
Breathe
, she told herself.
This is insane. Go back, and get inside before more protestors show up.
But the man’s words filled her mind, consumed her soul. He thought she’d be early? Like he knew her? Another series of shivers ran down her arms. Then without wanting to, she reached for the brochure and looked at the cover. It was a picture of an unborn baby, very little. Probably about the age of her own baby. The title read, “Give Life a Chance.”

Her heart pounded harder in response. She couldn’t give life
a chance. If she did, she’d have to tell her parents and have the baby and then what? Embarrass her father…mar his chances at making movies with a Christian message? Or spend a lifetime raising Taz’s child alone? Or somehow find a way to put the baby into the arms of another family? None of the answers felt even remotely possible. But as if some supernatural force was compelling her, she opened the pamphlet and read the entire thing, every word. The minutes ticked away, and still Andi sat there.

One of the lines from inside the brochure jumped out at her. For every abortion, two lives are destroyed. Most women will spend a lifetime seeking healing and forgiveness from this one single choice.

Could that be true? Was the brochure right, that she’d spend a lifetime regretting this? Her mind was so full of conflicting thoughts she could barely think or see straight. Even so she started her car again and pulled back onto the busy street. She drove without thinking, first toward the clinic and then after a quick U-turn she drove away. Suddenly, without knowing how or why, she pulled into another parking lot and looked at the building near the back. The blood drained from her face as she read the sign.

Bethany Christian Services—an Adoption Agency.

This couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t have driven aimlessly into the parking lot of an adoption agency. Maybe she was dreaming. The whole strange situation with the man and his unforgettable eyes, the way he’d come from nowhere and disappeared as soon as she turned around. Now this. She shut her eyes as tightly as she could. Yes, she was dreaming. That had to be it. But then why was her heart pounding, and how come she couldn’t catch her breath? She opened her eyes slowly, hoping she would find herself in the guestroom of the Kunzmann house, the morning not yet begun.

But she was exactly where she’d been a minute ago. A Christian adoption agency staring her straight in the face.

Suddenly…like scales from her eyes, the truth began to dawn on her. Nothing that morning had been strange or coincidental. God was reaching down from heaven to spare her life and the life of her baby. First the Kunzmann family—and Lucia’s prayer that the Holy Spirit stay with her over the next few hours…then the strange, kind-eyed man.

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