Here I Am. Send Me.--Chapter Thirty

Claire's story continues.

CHAPTER THIRTY

         EIGHT YEARS AND TWO MONTHS PREVIOUS



         Claire got on the phone and cajoled the office nurse at her OB/GYN to make an appointment for Courtney later that morning. It accomplished little but to confirm what they already knew and get a prescription for vitamins.

         After the appointment, they went to lunch. Claire groaned as Courtney listed all the fried and fatty items on the menu, nixing each one in turn. Courtney finally got to grilled chicken salad of which her mother approved. Since Claire was paying, that is what she ordered.

         The meal was conducted with small talk until Claire could finally wait no longer and asked, “When are you going to tell Cal?”

         The younger woman had already eaten the chicken and was poking around in the leaves looking for something good that she might have missed. “I don’t know. He’s busy with something tonight. So, tomorrow, I guess.” That was as much information as Courtney was going to give. They made their way home talking about school and college registration.

         Transitioning from her extra Sunday day shift to her normal night shift on Monday required Claire to sleep through the afternoon, which she didn’t. She lay in bed and prayed. How long had it been since she had really prayed? Not just said rote words but really reached out to God. She decided that, before the last two days, it had been too long.

         As the afternoon wore into evening, she found herself daydreaming about bouncing a grandchild on her knee and started reviewing grandma names. Meemaw was the ever popular, but why be normal? Meemee would be good. Maybe Grammy. Nanna had a ring to it. She had months to figure that out. She finally found sleep with a slight smile on her face.

         Three hours later her alarm went off. She dragged as she pulled herself together and headed into the eleven-to-seven third shift. The pace and required focus of her work kept her thoughts away from Courtney and her grandchild except for the slight wisp of a grin that flickered across her lips as she chewed her pimento cheese sandwich and pictured a Christmas morning filled with shredded wrapping paper and childish giggles.

         She wished that she worked with someone with whom she was close enough to share this news. But only friends were that close and, of course, she would have to ask Courtney’s permission. For the first time, she thanked God for the hospital understaffing which kept her busy and running and made the hours pass quickly. It was with the anticipation of talking with her daughter about her dreams that she returned home.

         When she opened the door to the house, several things struck her at once. First was the smell. She didn’t recognize it, but it smelled like something had burnt. That was likely if Courtney had tried to cook something. Maybe it was burnt oatmeal. That had happened more than once.

         Second was that Courtney wasn’t home. The box of garbage bags had been pulled from under the sink and was sitting open on the kitchen counter. Where would she be at eight o’clock in the morning?

         Claire settled in, storing her work things, dumping her scrubs on the floor next to the washing machine, and dressing in loose-fitting jeans and a t-shirt that was just old enough to be comfortable while still being new enough to be seen in public in case Courtney wanted to go out and grab coffee. After thirty minutes had passed, she gave up and made herself a cup.

         She was standing in the kitchen nuking the coffee for the second time when she heard footsteps on the front porch. The door opened and Courtney walked in with an unrecognizable facial expression. Striding purposefully to the kitchen counter, she squared her shoulders and announced. “Momma, I want an abortion.”

         Claire’s knees almost buckled with the verbal gut-punch. She reached out and steadied herself against the counter as her thoughts flew. It was dizzying and she had to hold on tighter as nausea filled her stomach. Anger once again surged through her but, this time, she listened to the little voice in her soul.

         It took a moment for all the competing emotions to wind their way through her system, and she closed her eyes and sent up a silent prayer before she spoke.

         “Talk to me about it.” The tiny voice had fully bloomed into the Holy Spirit within her, putting strength and calm into her voice that she could not manage on her own.

         Courtney had braced for an attack and seemed unsure how to proceed. She stuttered out her first few words. “I… It’s… It’s like you said. This baby ruins my life. I would have to give up everything I ever wanted and everything you worked for me to have. How do I go to college with a baby? I don’t think I can do it!”

         Mother’s intuition kicked in. “Did you talk to Cal?”

         Courtney shook her head. “Not about this. Not about the baby.”

         “Did you talk about marriage?”

         “No!” The word came out stronger than expected and Claire leaned back. Courtney continued, more quietly. “No. We didn’t talk about anything like that at all. He just… It was…” Her voice faded out with the sentence unfinished.

         “Are you still thinking about marrying Cal?”

         Her daughter shook her head. “No. I couldn’t do that. Not now.”

         Claire knew not to push. Maybe it was just a short-lived fight and would be over in a few hours.

         Courtney was losing energy. “Momma, I’m alone in this.”

         “No. Never. I’m always here for you. Always.”

         “I know that, but you’re my mother. It’s, like, your job. You’re stuck with me. There’s no one with me by choice. What am I supposed to do?”

         Claire waited for the Spirit’s lead and then followed. “That will be your decision, baby girl. Would it be okay if we prayed together?”