But even as the idea took root, it died. She couldn’t run away with Shane. Not when she was expecting a baby. She needed medical care and her parents’ help if she was going to learn how to be a mother. Still, the thought wouldn’t quite go away. And as she lay there, as she stared at the ceiling and thought about Shane and their uncertain future, the movie scene came to mind again. The man in the hallway with the walls closing in, the trap door that had allowed him to escape.
That was them, wasn’t it? Exactly like their situation. As she fell asleep she thought about the place they were stuck in, and how the walls were closing in on their plans and their time together. There had to be a way out, didn’t there? She could wait until her baby was born and take her money then, right? The thought came to life again and the slightest bit of peace filled her heart.
Yes, the walls were closing in. But maybe — just maybe — their prison might have a trap door too.
THREE
Shane Galanter felt like he was drowning.
His mind was stuck on something that happened a few summers back, a terrifying memory that actually fit his life now. He’d been sailing with some friends on Lake Michigan, and the guys took turns diving off the sailboat and swimming fifty yards out and back. Someone had a stopwatch, so it became a competition. One swimmer would best another’s time by a few seconds, and everyone would try it again.
Shane was on his third swim out from the sailboat when a strong wind came up. It hit him just about the time his energy ran out. And suddenly there he was — a mile from shore, fifty yards out from the sailboat, paddling toward the vessel and not making any headway at all.
“Help!”
But his shout was lost on the wind. His friends had their backs to him, all but the guy holding the stopwatch. And even he wasn’t watching.
Shane kicked harder and harder, but didn’t get any closer to the boat. About that time, a wave hit him in the face, and he sucked in a mouthful of water. That’s when he realized what was happening. He was starting to drown, right in plain sight of his friends. He was taking in water and sinking a little more every few seconds, spending all his energy and not making any progress.
Suddenly one of his friends stood up and pointed at him. “Hey! Galanter’s in trouble!”
Another wave hit him and he swallowed a mouthful of water. The guys adjusted the sails and four of them started paddling. In a few minutes they reached him and pulled him into the boat.
He still remembered how he felt. Remembered swallowing the water, feeling his strength leave him, knowing he wasn’t going to make it.
Just like now.
He was in over his head, but this time with no boat or shore or help in sight. One thing was sure, though. If he was going to drown, he wanted to know the details. Every single one of them. When he got home from baseball practice, he searched out his father and found him in his home office on the second floor. Shane walked in and closed the door behind him, just as his father looked up from a stack of papers. He had a pencil tucked behind his ear and a smile on his face.
“How was practice?”
Shane stared at him, stunned. “How was practice?” He gave a bitter laugh. “My girlfriend’s pregnant and my parents are having some kind of midlife crisis, and you ask me how was practice?” He removed his baseball cap and smoothed his hand over his hair. “Distracting, okay, Dad? How’s that for an honest answer?”
His father turned his chair in his direction and crossed one leg over the other. “Okay, Shane.” He pointed to the leather sofa next to his desk. “Sit down. Looks like you want to talk.”
“Not really.” The anger was a part of him at this point. It was there when he woke up and when he lay back down. “I have to talk. There’s a difference.”
“Okay.” His father gave a thoughtful nod. “Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?”
Shane sat on the edge of the sofa and dug his elbows into his knees. His eyes locked on his father’s. “Why don’t you tell me about California?”
Surprise filled his father’s features. No question he’d caught the man off guard. His dad took a moment to recover, then frowned that practiced sort of frown. The one Shane so often saw him use with his mother when things didn’t go his way. “We have investments there, son. You know that.”
“We’ve lived here twelve years and never once have you talked seriously about moving to California.” Shane kept his voice controlled. It wouldn’t get him anywhere to lose his temper, even if his blood was boiling.
“You’re a child, son.” His dad squinted, stopping just short of being condescending. “We don’t talk to you about everything.”
Shane’s heart slammed against his chest. “So it’s true? We’re moving to Los Angeles?”
For a moment his father hesitated, as if maybe he might deny it or try to buy a little more time. But finally he exhaled hard and gave a slow nod. “Yes.” He brought his lips together and nodded slower this time. “In June.”
“We can’t!” Shane was on his feet, ready to kick something. “Dad, that’s a month before the baby comes.”
“In my day that would’ve made June the perfect time to move.” The moment his dad’s harsh words were out, regret shone in his eyes. He opened his mouth and closed it again. Then he pressed his fist to his forehead and looked at Shane. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong.”
Shane sat back against the sofa. “It came out just how you meant it to come out. You’re moving so I won’t stay with Lauren.”
“That’s not it.” His dad sounded tired, discouraged. “We’ve been talking about selling the bank for awhile, and a good offer came in.” He tossed his hands up. “It was time. What else can I say?”
“Why California, Dad?” Shane uttered a sad chuckle. “Why not move to the suburbs, like Lauren’s family? You could invest here, couldn’t you?”
“We already have investments in California.” His father stood and walked to his bookcase. He took a framed photograph from the top shelf and stared at it — Shane’s first-grade baseball photo. He turned and met Shane’s eyes again. “This is not how your mother and I pictured your life, son. Expecting a baby before your senior year in high school. Can you understand that?” He put the picture back on the shelf. “We only want the best for you. You and Lauren and the baby. All of you.”
“Okay.” Shane was on his feet again. His blood was hotter than before, and he was breathing harder. “Help me understand how tearing us apart is good for anyone.”
When his dad didn’t say anything, Shane turned and stormed out of the office. He had to find Lauren, had to reach her and tell her the truth. His parents were moving him to California; they had to find some way to keep him here, close to her. Maybe if he asked her to marry him now, maybe that would do it. Then they could be together through their senior years, he could go to college and one day he could become a pilot, as he’d always dreamed.
He didn’t have much. His car, any money he had — it all belonged to his father. Except his birthday money, maybe four hundred dollars saved up in a box under his bed. He jogged to his room, pulled out the box, and grabbed the handful of bills. A quick count told him it wasn’t quite that much, but it was enough.
Their parents couldn’t separate them if they were engaged, could they? His parents or hers, someone would have to come to their senses and let the two of them stay together. That way they could share the early days with the baby, and when they graduated they could have a wedding.
His mother was shopping, so it was just him and his father at home. Shane stuffed the money in his wallet and shoved his wallet in the pocket of his jeans. Then he tore down the stairs, jumped in his car, and drove to the mall. They always had deals on rings at the mall, didn’t they? He knew her ring size, because a few months before she got pregnant they were seeing a movie at the mall and before the show started they stopped in at a jewelry store. It was all pretend and silliness, but he remembered her size. Six. The lady had said Lauren had beautiful, slender
fingers. He parked and ran inside. The first jewelry store he saw, he walked straight in and up to the sales clerk.
“I need a ring.” He was out of breath. The money felt like a million dollars in his pocket.
“Very well.” The woman was older, with soft wrinkles across her cheeks and forehead. “Is this a promise ring, young man?”
He was about to tell her no, that this was an engagement ring. But before the words would come, he realized how they would sound. Ridiculous, that’s how. He was just seventeen, and most people told him his baby face made him look younger than that. He met the woman’s eyes. “Uh, yes. Yeah. A promise ring.” He managed a nervous smile. “Anything like that?”
The woman stood and led him to a section in the glass cabinet with smaller rings. Some of them had white little stones on them, and others had pink or blue. A few had what looked like diamonds. He lifted his eyes to the woman. “I want something real.”
“Okay.” She smiled again. “A diamond, then?”
“Yes.” Definitely a diamond. He’d loved Lauren Anderson since he was in fourth grade. She made him feel things he’d never felt before. She was fun and witty and his best friend of all. Nothing less than a diamond.
“Very well, have you thought of what size stone?” She folded her hands and tilted her head to the side. “Diamonds come in many sizes. Full carat, half, quarter, and so on.”
Shane’s eyes lit up. “Let’s try the full carat.” His mother had something like that. A full carat would make a nice ring for Lauren.
“All righty then.” She opened the case from behind and pulled out a velvet pad with eight rings stuck into separate sections. Each one glistened and shot colors across the glass counter. “They start at fifteen hundred dollars.”
He felt suddenly ill. The smell of mall popcorn and cinnamon buns filled the air, making him queasy. He looked at the woman and gave a tight shake of his head. “Not that big.” His shoulders fell a little. “I have three hundred and eighty dollars.”
“Well.” The woman returned the tray of brilliant rings back to the counter. “We have something in that range. It’ll be a circle of maybe some crusted diamond chips. Something totaling about a quarter carat.”
The rings she brought out this time were much smaller, without the shimmer. He tried not to frown at them, but he couldn’t help it. “Hmm.” Then he had an idea. Excitement rang out in his voice in a way he couldn’t stop. “Can you engrave them?”
“Definitely.” It’ll be an extra twenty dollars.” She looked over her shoulder at an older man sitting behind a glass partition. “You’re in luck. My husband does all the engraving. He can get it done in a few minutes, if you have time to wait.”
“Perfect.” His palms were sweaty. He rubbed them on his jeans. “I’ll wait right here.”
She helped him pick out a size six ring that would work with his budget, even with the cost of engraving. The ring was small. The diamonds made a crusty little heart at the center and the band was white gold. But it was pretty, and it would serve the purpose.
While he waited he thought of the talks he’d heard at youth group since he and Lauren had slept together. Just the day before there’d been one. Lauren wasn’t there — her parents didn’t let her go anymore. But the message hit him straight in the heart. One of the youth pastors had taken two sheets of construction paper, one red, one blue.
“These represent you and your girlfriend.” He held them up and looked around the room. Then he took a bottle of white glue and drizzled it over the back side of one of the pieces of paper. He pressed the two pieces of paper together, back to back. “This is what happens when you and your girlfriend have sex.”
He set the glued-together papers down on his podium and spent twenty minutes talking about the body, how God had asked His people to set aside their bodies as temples for the Holy Spirit, and how sexual immorality was never right for God’s people.
“Basically . . . ” The guy smiled. Shane really liked him. He was younger than the main ministers and he talked like one of the guys. “Basically sex is a great thing. But it’s only great because God thought it up, and it’s only great when the people having sex are married. Because that was God’s plan from the beginning.” He grew more serious. “Any other sex is sin because God says so. And He says so for our own good. Sex outside of marriage hurts us. It always will, whether we think so or not.”
He walked back to the podium and picked up the two glued-together pieces of paper. Then he took hold of the corners of each sheet and slowly pulled them apart so that the fronts of the paper faced the kids in the audience. “See?” He kept pulling until they were completely separated again. “Looks okay on the outside. That’s why so many of you think, ‘No big deal. I have sex with my girlfriend, so what? We aren’t hurting anyone.’ ”
The room was silent, the kids staring at the two pieces of paper. It felt like everyone in the room knew what was coming. The pastor turned the pieces of paper over. The red piece was gooey and ripped up, with small sections of blue stuck to it. On the blue piece, small bits of red clung in sections. Both pieces were an ugly mess.
“See.” He held the sheets of paper up a little higher. “God tells us to wait until marriage because sex outside marriage hurts us. Sometimes it hurts in a way everyone can see. And other times it hurts in ways only God and us ever know about. The bottom line is this: sex outside marriage will scar us, and we will never, ever be the same again.”
The man’s words faded from Shane’s memory. He blinked and spotted a group of kids his age walking past the jewelry store. They were from another high school, the rivals a few miles east. Two of the girls and three of the guys wore letterman jackets. All of them looked happy and carefree.
He wanted to shout at them, “Don’t do it! Don’t be alone together, don’t take chances, don’t do things your way! The Bible’s right about sex!” But he only watched them walk off, laughing and teasing and enjoying high school life the way it was meant to be enjoyed.
Shane turned and faced the older couple working over his ring. Why hadn’t he listened? What made him and Lauren think they could beat the odds or get away with something that was so wrong? The bench he was sitting on was cold and uncomfortable, the same way he felt inside. He stood and wandered out into the mall. If only there was a way to go back, to tell God they were sorry and they needed a second chance . . .
Not that he didn’t want the baby. He did. He wanted the baby and Lauren and the life they’d have together. But he wished like crazy they’d listened to God. He stared up through a glass window in the roof of the mall. God . . . we need you so bad. Please . . . He glanced back at the store, at the couple working on his ring. Please let this work out.
A verse came to mind, one that the youth group leader wore once in a while on a T-shirt. It was written in big pink letters on a funky pale green background and it said, “I know the plans I have for you.”
He hadn’t been in church all that much — his parents were never very good at making Sunday service — but he knew the verse anyway. It was a favorite among the kids because it talked about the very thing they all worried about — tomorrow. “ ‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’ ” It was from Jeremiah 29:11.
He sighed, and it rattled all the way to his knees. Just then, the old woman gave him a little wave and a nod that told him the ring was ready. He went to the counter and studied it. The words he’d asked them to engrave were the words that summed up how he felt about this season in their lives.
Even now.
Even now, when Lauren was seventeen and pregnant, when their future and the future of their baby hung in the balance, he loved her. He loved her the way he always had, with a singleness and a focus. Even now, because no matter when she would see the ring or read the inscription on the inside of the band, it would be true. Even now, when they were struggling; even now, when they were not sure ho
w to get from today to tomorrow. Even now . . . he loved her.
No, they hadn’t done things right. But he would stand by her. He would stand by her as long as the sun came up in the morning, as long as spring followed winter. He paid for the ring, and the woman slipped it in a little velvet gray box.
“I think your girlfriend will love it,” the woman was saying.
In the background, her husband gave him a wink. “Young love is so precious.”
Shane bit his lip. If they only knew. He thanked them, tucked the bag tight into his coat pocket, and left the mall. Since he was in sixth grade he’d wondered what it would be like to ask Lauren Anderson to marry him. He’d planned to take her to a beautiful mountaintop or a sandy beach overlooking the ocean. He’d get down on one knee and tell her how his life wouldn’t be complete unless she was his wife.
But there was no time for anything like that now.
It was mid-April, and his parents wanted to move him to Los Angeles in two months. He needed to set his plans in motion now, to find a way to keep them together. He was the man, after all. It was his job to take care of her and the baby, and he certainly couldn’t do that from three thousand miles away.
He drove to her house and knocked on her door. That was something new also. He used to give a quick knock and walk straight in. But these days he felt . . . not quite welcome. Lauren’s mother looked out a side window and he heard her yell for Lauren. After a few minutes she came to the door, her eyes wide.
“I didn’t know you were coming.” Her sweatshirt was oversized, pulled down around her jeans.
The idea of her pregnancy starting to show sent a wave of fear over him. More proof that he really was drowning. He glanced at the window, but her mother was no longer standing there. “Hi.”
“Hi.” She stepped out onto the porch and crossed her arms. Her eyes were sad — the way they usually were lately — but a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “I felt the baby move today.”