“How far along am I?”
“Let’s see.” Ashley was new at this, but she captured a few pictures of the unborn baby and clicked a few buttons. The machine computed the age of the fetus. “Looks like you’re ten weeks. Maybe ten and a half.”
“Ten weeks?” Andi looked shocked at the news. Her face grew ashen again and she turned away from the images. “Can…I be done now?”
“Of course.”
Betty made a few notations on the clipboard, and she handed Andi a clean towel.
Ashley turned off the machine and wiped down the wand. “Go ahead and dry off, then you can get dressed in the changing room. Let’s meet back here in a few minutes.”
“Thank you.” Andi’s voice was almost inaudible. She pulled the gown tight around herself as she took the towel and left for the changing room.
When she was gone, Betty exchanged a sad look with Ashley. “She’s so scared.”
“I know.” They were whispering. “Pray, Betty.”
“I am.” Her eyes softened. “I have been the whole time.”
Betty caught the printout from the ultrasound and finished filling in the chart. She was back at her desk by the time Andi returned to the examination area. There was a sofa in the far corner, next to the crib where Janessa was sleeping. Ashley led Andi there, and they sat on opposite ends. Andi kept her eyes focused intently on her hands.
Give me the words, please God. “I’ve been in your seat, Andi. People make mistakes.”
Andi kept her face downturned, but she lifted her eyes to Ashley’s. “You were pregnant before…when you weren’t married?”
“Yes.” Ashley felt a surge of joy. Andi was willing to listen. “I was in France, about your age. I’d left home and I wanted to make my own way. Live by my own rules.” Ashley didn’t know anything about Andi’s story, how she’d gotten into this situation or who the guy might be. But she could sense Andi listening a little more intently. “I began dating a famous painter, and after a few months I wound up pregnant.” She paused, still ashamed of the details. “He was a married man. He told me he wasn’t about to leave his wife, and he gave me the address of an abortion clinic in Paris.”
“You…had an abortion?” Andi crossed her arms tight across her stomach. She looked small and frail, completely overwhelmed by her situation.
“I didn’t.” Ashley would forever be grateful for her answer. She pictured her precious Cole. “I got as far as the waiting room, and I couldn’t do it. I didn’t know what to do, but I was sure of one thing. My baby wasn’t to blame for my actions.”
Quiet tears slipped from Andi’s eyes and trickled down her face. Ashley handed her a tissue and continued. “Do you know my family?”
Andi sniffed. “The…the Baxters?”
“Yes.” Ashley felt the heaviness of those long ago days. “I came home alone and pregnant. No one in my family had ever done anything like that. I felt like the worst person in the world.”
“What did your parents say?”
“They were disappointed.” It was important to keep the details real. “But they welcomed me home, and when Cole was born, they loved him with all the love they had to give.” Ashley pictured her mother, caring for little Cole, teaching Ashley how to be a mommy. “There are lots of grandkids in our family today. But I think my mom always loved Cole the best. Because he didn’t have the easiest start.”
Andi sniffed again. “I don’t know how my parents will react. They’re busy. A baby would…it would make life hard for them. In their line of work.” She shook her head, fear gathering around her again.
“There are options.” Again Ashley didn’t want to be pushy. But it was important Andi have all the information before she left. Ashley reached for a folder on the table next to the couch. Then she stood and collected a few photos from the printer. She tucked them into the folder and handed it to Andi. “Take this. Pictures of your baby, and other information about adoption—both closed and open. Ways you can connect with a private Christian agency and even choose your baby’s adoptive parents.”
Andi looked terrified at the thought. She took the folder and struggled to her feet. “Thank you. For your time.” For a quick moment she looked at Janessa sleeping in the crib. Then she took a few steps toward the door. “I…I have to go.”
Ashley walked her to the door, praying that Andi would stop, that she’d stay and talk a little longer. But nothing would stop her this time. She thanked Ashley once more and practically ran from the clinic. Ashley felt the disappointment settle in around her heart.
Be with her, God. Save her baby’s life. Please, Lord.
“I have a feeling about this one.” Betty smiled sadly from her place behind the desk. “That God has a very special plan for both of them. The mother and the baby.”
“Me too.” Ashley sighed. “I just wish she would’ve stayed.”
Only then did she look more closely at Andi’s paperwork. She’d put her name as Andi Smith, and the address and phone number were clearly made up. Ashley could reach her if she needed to. She could get the girl’s information from Jenny and Bailey Flanigan. Without giving away anything, of course.
But she hoped she wouldn’t need to do that. Andi had the material she needed to choose life. Now Ashley could only stand firm and pray.
And let God Himself fight the battle for the life of Andi’s baby.
Fifteen
CODY STOOD NEXT TO RYAN TAYLOR and listened as the head coach shouted orders to the lineman.
“Get low,” Coach Taylor strode closer and leaned down, eye level to the lineman. “That’s not low enough. You have to get lower, men.” He put himself on the line and got down so low he looked like he was sitting in an invisible chair. “This is low. Can you see this?” He straightened. “Now get low.” He walked the line, analyzing their efforts. “I know this is summer, but that doesn’t mean we give half an effort. What we do in June will determine who we’ll be in October.”
Cody soaked in every word, every piece of advice. He loved everything about being at Clear Creek High this week. He’d been given a playbook, and already he had memorized most of it. Coaching was a whole new world to him, and the lessons he was learning were enough to convince him he was right about his suspicions. He loved being out here. Already he was sure that he wanted nothing more than to be a coach. Like Ryan Taylor.
Like Jim Flanigan.
This week of practice had been good for him in another way too. It had taken his mind off Bailey and the strange incident with her and Tim at the school cafeteria the other day. Cody crossed his arms and kept his feet shoulder-width apart—the way he’d seen the other coaches stand for as far back as he could remember playing. It felt amazing to be on this side of the game, but this week he was supposed to spend his time watching.
“There,” Ryan yelled—mostly so he could be heard across the field. Coach Taylor was not one of those coaches who ruled by fear. “That’s getting low. Everyone look at McCoy. See that? Get low like that. All your power comes from the explosion off the line, and that only happens if you’re low.”
Cody blinked, and the action before him blurred. Instead he was back on campus, spotting Bailey and Tim and deciding to stop by for a quick hello. Cody couldn’t lie to himself. It hurt, seeing her with him. Especially when Cody and Bailey had been together so often lately. Almost like Tim was some imaginary boyfriend who didn’t really exist in Bailey’s world. But seeing them that afternoon was painful proof.
You told her you’d be her friend, he reminded himself. Now’s your chance to prove it. With that he’d altered his course across the mall so he’d walk past their table. Bailey seemed surprised to see him. She blushed as soon as he walked up—whatever that meant. But before she could say anything, Tim’s attitude kicked in. It wasn’t just that he seemed bothered by Cody’s interruption. He seemed condescending. Like he thought he was better than Cody. Or that maybe Cody was wasting their time. Cody was already getting the point when Tim made his blunt comm
ent, about how he and Bailey wanted to talk about their auditions alone.
In his younger football-playing, high school partying days, Cody would’ve solved the problem with a single blow to Tim Reed’s face. And he was sorely tempted in that moment. But in the same instant, he realized there was no point. If Tim wanted to be a jerk, if that was the kind of guy he was becoming, then so be it. He was the guy Bailey had chosen, after all. If she wanted to be with a guy like that, then fine.
Bailey had tried to call him three times since then, but each time he let the call go. What could she possibly want to say? That she was sorry for sitting by while Tim treated him like some lower class citizen? That she still wasn’t sure she wanted to be serious with Tim? He was sick of her explanations, no matter how much fun he had with her. She had chosen Tim. Now let her spend her time with him.
A whistle blew. “Take five, men. Get some water and get back here.” Ryan Taylor jogged easily over to the other coaches and motioned for Cody to join them. “During the season we’ll have a line coach working with the guys. But they need to understand their importance on the line. Everything fails or succeeds based on that, absolutely everything.”
The other coaches agreed, and Ryan dismissed them for the five minutes. Only Cody stayed. “I love this. I’m soaking it all in, Coach. Thanks so much for having me.”
“I’m watching you. The times I have you working with our quarterbacks. You’re a natural, Cody.” Ryan grinned at him. “I’ve already thanked Jim for sending you out here.” They walked together toward the water cooler. “Seems like yesterday you were out there yourself.”
“It’s been three years. Amazing how time goes.”
“Gets worse as you get older.” Ryan squinted at the empty field. “A blink ago I was out there playing pro ball.” He patted his still flat stomach. “Now I couldn’t run a series of forty-yard dashes to save my life.”
“I think you could.” Cody laughed. He loved the camaraderie he was finding with Coach Taylor. “You’re in better shape than most of the kids out there.”
“Now you sound like Kari.”
Cody grinned and helped himself to a few quick gulps of water. He knew a little of Coach Taylor’s story. Pretty sensational stuff. He and Kari Baxter had dated when they were in high school, but then Ryan had gone off to a big college to play football and she had gone on to work as a fashion model. On one fateful college football Saturday, Ryan suffered an injury that nearly paralyzed him. Kari and her dad, John Baxter, rushed to his side, but somehow Kari came away from the hospital believing Ryan had fallen in love with someone else. A year later she married someone else, but the guy had an affair and wound up getting shot and killed by some lunatic stalker guy on the IU campus.
After that, Ryan and Kari found each other again, and a few years later the two of them married. Ryan left pro football five or six years ago and moved to Bloomington so Kari could be near her family. That’s how he wound up coaching at Clear Creek High.
Coach Taylor’s story had resonated with Cody since Bailey had shared it with him. Maybe because he could relate to Ryan’s patience, the way he’d kept his love for Kari all those years. The way he was willing to be her friend after she lost her husband. Even if that’s all he ever was to her. It made him think of his friendship with Bailey.
But there was a difference.
Kari Baxter had been convinced Ryan loved someone else. Bailey knew better. How much clearer could Cody possibly be? He had sat on that rock overlooking the lake at the Cru retreat and told her he wasn’t dating because he was waiting for that one special girl. She couldn’t possibly think he meant anyone but her, right?
He finished his paper cup of water, crumpled it, and threw it in the trash. They had another hour before practice was over. Action was about to start up again when Connor came up to him. Connor was playing tight end and backup quarterback for Clear Creek next year. Already he was impressing the coaches with his speed and agility. He had his father’s build, and even if football wasn’t his first love, he was bound to start next fall.
Connor grinned at him. “Think Coach wants us to stay low?”
Cody laughed so hard he spit his water on the grass. “Way to listen, Flanigan.”
“I try.” He chuckled hard as he walked off. His younger brothers—Justin and Shawn—were both freshmen with a shot at making varsity. They were fast and strong, and they could jump a mile in the air, hanging there until the football landed in their hands.
On the next set of plays, Coach Taylor placed Shawn at wide receiver and ran three plays at him. Each time Shawn soared off the ground, snatched the ball from the sky, and scored a touchdown. No one could touch him. Cody was on the sidelines with Connor and the rest of the team, and all of them whooped and hollered at Shawn Flanigan’s impressive showing.
“Yep,” Connor raised his fist in the air. “That’s my brother. We might as well be twins. Two peas in a pod.”
Everyone laughed and hit Connor on the back. The Flanigan boys always had fun talking as if they were blood related. Once when Cody lived with them, Connor brought a girl to the house. As they walked into the kitchen, Cody was sitting on one side of the bar, Shawn and Justin on the other. Connor introduced Cody as an adopted member of the family, but with Shawn and Justin he said simply, “These are my brothers.”
The girl hesitated, then she gave Connor a skeptical look. “Your brothers?”
Connor didn’t skip a beat. He wrinkled his brow, walked up to Shawn, and held his white arm next to his brother’s black one. “What, you think he’s not my brother ’cause he’s a little tanner than me?”
It was the same thing here. Connor’s Haitian brothers might out-perform him on the football field, but that only gave Connor another reason to claim them as his brothers. The Flanigan family had a love that could laugh through anything, a love that knew no color barriers or resentment.
When practice was over, Connor rounded up Cody and his younger brothers. “Bailey called. Her roommate Andi needs our help.” Connor checked his cell phone. “I guess Andi’s parents pulled into town this morning with their moving van.” Connor flexed his arms. “At least she knew who to call.”
They all laughed, and Cody agreed to join them. The only thing he needed to do tonight was check on his mother. She was still hanging out with Benny the Tiger, much to Cody’s dismay. He liked to stop by unexpectedly, in case he might find her at a time when she needed him.
He drove the boys in his car, and they pulled up at the address Bailey had given them in time to see her park across the street. For a long few seconds, Cody’s eyes met hers and neither of them made a move to get out of their cars.
“Uh…it’s okay if we get out, right?” Connor tapped Cody’s shoulder. He and Shawn were in the back seat. “You and Bailey can look at each other later.”
“Hey…be nice.” Cody leaned back and playfully punched the oldest Flanigan boy. But as he got out, he avoided looking at Bailey again. He hadn’t thought much about what he would feel seeing her here. This was the first time they’d been together since the Tim incident.
Jim Flanigan must’ve been off this afternoon, because he was already there, along with John Baxter and Ashley and Landon Blake. Ryan Taylor was pulling up too. The Flanigan boys ran to be with their dad, and Cody took his time locking his car. As he did, Bailey approached him, her voice softer than usual. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Cody turned to face her, but he kept his guard up, leaning against his car, his hands in his shorts pockets. He never felt self-conscious about his prosthetic leg, but for some reason here, he did. He wasn’t sure Bailey had seen him in shorts since his injury. He thought about glancing down, trying to imagine how it might’ve looked to someone who hadn’t seen it before. He wore a knee brace to bridge the look of his real leg and the artificial lower limb, and with the socks and his shoes matching, most people would have to look hard to tell the difference.
Maybe it was the way Tim had treated him. Whatever it was, the leg
or Bailey’s boyfriend, Cody felt inadequate standing there. Awkward, like he didn’t belong in her life—even as her friend. She was looking hard at him, searching his eyes. “You haven’t answered my calls.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve been busy.”
“No.” Bailey knew him better. “That’s not true. You’re mad about the Tim thing.” She released a frustrated breath and paced a few steps away, then back again. “He was a jerk that day. I called so I could apologize for him.”
Cody stayed chill, determined that she wouldn’t see the hurt he’d felt then or now. “No big deal.” He tried a smile, but it fell short. “Don’t worry about it, Bailey. If there’s an apology made, it should come from him.” He pointed his thumb over his right shoulder. “There’s work to do. Talk to you later.” And with that, he side-stepped her and headed for the guys clustered at the back of the moving van.
After the first few loads, he was setting a box down in the back bedroom when Bailey showed up at the doorway. He smiled politely at her and tried to walk around her, but she wouldn’t move. “Don’t do this. Please.”
He felt his shoulders sink, and a sigh died on his lips. “Do what?”
“Punish me for the way he acted.” Bailey’s voice was quiet, so none of the others would hear her. But the passion in her tone was loud and clear. “He was rude and I told him so.”
Cody stared at her, disbelieving what he was hearing. “You told him he was rude?”
“Yes.” She sounded indignant. “He was rude, and I wanted him to know it.”
Normally Cody kept his comments about Tim and Bailey to himself. The last thing he wanted was to push her away from a guy she still clearly wanted to date. And she was still seeing him. She had to be. How else could he read that? But here, he felt a desperate need to comment. “You’re in love with the guy, right?” He refused to get angry. Instead he used his softest voice so she wouldn’t feel cornered.