If not, then she'd bear the brunt of her sorrow alone. Why burden anyone else?
All the way to Spokane, Sharon argued with herself. By the time she'd arrived, nearly two-and-a-half hours later, the thought of her sons' reaction was too great to put aside. There wasn't any other way.
When she glanced in the rearview mirror, she was shocked to find how haggard she looked. Her appearance must be a reflection of the turmoil going on inside.
It took several times around the section of Spokane the secretary had described before she found the office. Dr. Reynolds. She regretted giving her real name.
Forcing herself to move, Sharon climbed out of the car and went inside the brick building. The smells were like all other doctors' offices, a mixture of rubbing alcohol, cleaning solvents, and other unidentifiable, but medicinal odors.
The waiting room was full, and Sharon felt as if everyone there knew her secret. The receptionist smiled and gave her a clipboard of papers to fill out. She took a seat and stared at the pages, her stomach in knots. There wasn't any reason to hold back now; she filled them in completely.
When her turn came, Sharon followed the nurse as if dazed. After waiting another twenty minutes in the exam room, wearing only a scant blue gown and a layer of goosebumps, the doctor came in.
He appeared to be about thirty-two, was tall, mustached, and smiling.
"Hello, Mrs. Quinn, I'm Dr. Reynolds." He held out his hand, and she placed her icy one in his, then pulled back at once. "You'd like a pelvic exam to determine if you're pregnant?"
He studied the information on her chart, missing her nod. When he lifted his gaze, she nodded again.
"Don't be nervous. I see you already have two sons."
Sharon grimaced as a dart of pain speared her chest. How had she gotten into such a mess? Couldn't she have resisted the temptation to have Joe's arms around her?
What she'd give to have them around her right now...
The doctor summoned the nurse before he began. She winced as he touched a tender spot. She'd always hated these exams and stared at the ceiling, pretending she was somewhere else.
Don't think, she repeated silently for the hundredth time.
When he'd finished, he said, "You may sit up now." He turned to write in her chart.
Sharon clutched the skimpy sheet that covered her legs as the back of her gown gaped open. She shivered from the draft.
Dr. Reynolds' voice startled her. "It looks like you're about six weeks along, Mrs. Quinn. Congratulations."
Sharon tried to swallow, then blinked to hold back the tears.
"Mrs. Quinn, are you all right?" He leaned toward her.
Lifting her gaze to meet the doctor's inquiring eyes, she gritted her teeth and said, "I want an abortion."
He set down the chart and backed against the counter as he folded his arms. "Have you given this a great deal of thought?"
"Yes, I have," she said in a husky voice. "I'm a widow, supporting two teenagers. I can't have this baby."
Spoken aloud, her argument sounded inadequate.
He drew his mouth into a straight line and rubbed his finger across the full mustache. "How long have you been a widow?"
Sharon felt the shame rise within her and fought it down. It wasn't any of his business, but she needed his help. "Ten months." A bead of perspiration broke out on her upper lip.
The doctor exhaled slowly. "I don't perform abortions, but one of my associates does. Because of your situation and your age, a therapeutic procedure may be warranted. After you're dressed, the nurse will give you a consent form to look over. If you don't change your mind, make an appointment with Dr. Nickles, but don't wait too long. He'll need to do a work-up on your general health."
He picked up the chart and left the room.
She dressed quickly, chilled to the bone. The weight of depression hung heavily. When she came out of the exam room, the nurse handed her a yellow sheet of paper. Sharon mumbled a "thank you," then paid the receptionist and bolted from the building.
She headed for the car, carefully going over the contents of the form. The list of risks was disturbing and included hemorrhaging, severe cramping, infection, among others.
Sharon was so intent upon the medical terminology, she didn't see the person in her path and ran straight into him. She stared wide-eyed into Joe's face and felt the blood drain from her own.
"What are you doing here?"
"You sounded so strange this morning, I was worried, so I followed you." His eyes were filled with genuine concern.
"You followed me? Didn't I tell you I had to do this alone?" Sharon's frenzied mind searched for an avenue of escape and found anger.
Joe's gaze moved to the yellow sheet she clutched so desperately. "What's that? Are you ill, and you don't want the boys to know?"
He started to take the paper, but she cried, "No!" and held it behind her back.
His eyes narrowed. "What's wrong with you? Let me see it. Maybe I can help."
Joe reached around her and grabbed the form, then read the condemning words. Sharon waited as a defendant waits for the verdict.
His eyes widened, and he stared at her incredulously. "Menstrual extraction? Is that what I think it is? An abortion? What's going on?" He paused as if in shock. "You're pregnant?!"
She knew her face revealed the answer against her will.
His face registered disbelief. "It's my baby, isn't it? And you want to get rid of it?"
Sharon touched his arm, but he pulled away. "Joe, let me explain..." As if she could, she thought.
He shook his head as if in pain. "I don't believe this. Why didn't you at least come to me so we could talk? Do I mean so little to you?"
When she opened her mouth to speak and nothing came out, Joe raised his hand. "Stop. I don't want to hear it."
As if he couldn't bear to look at her any longer, Joe turned and left her standing alone.
Sharon watched helplessly. When he'd started his car, she ran after him and tried to make him stop, but he kept driving without a glance in her direction.
When he was gone, she somehow found her own car, but dropped the keys twice before finally getting the door open. As she sank into the seat, the hopelessness of the situation overcame her. "I wouldn't have done it, Joe, I know that now..." she spoke aloud. "I wouldn't have..."
She realized it was true. When the reality had hit, she'd known she couldn't go through with it. If he hadn't seen the paper, maybe they could have talked sensibly.
It was too late now. She'd never forget the look in his eyes and couldn't blame him.
Across the street from the doctor's office, children played in a park. Sharon watched for a long time, remembering her own boys when they were little and how precious they were.
She touched her stomach as if she could feel the life growing there. Joe's baby... If only she'd realized sooner how much she loved him, and to hell with public opinion.
Sharon allowed herself to contemplate that startling fact. That was the reason she'd wanted to make love with him in the first place.
It was Joe she'd needed, not a substitute for Tom.
Her guilt at loving again had made it impossible for her to admit it before. What should have brought them together had torn them irrevocably apart.
Her vision blurred, and she could no longer see the youngsters at play. Even as she rejected the idea of abortion, she admitted her reasons for considering it had not disappeared. There was still the gossip, her boys, her job, her parents... Nothing had changed, except that she'd lost Joe, for good this time.
Sharon turned the key in the ignition, and drove aimlessly until finding herself in front of an old cathedral. Parking the car, she stared, feeling reluctant to enter the sacred place, but the ageless architecture summoned her.
She climbed the steps slowly, as if in a trance.
Once, stopping midway up the stairs, she thought, I don't belong here. She turned, retracing her steps down the stone stairs, aware that her actions were being observed by a shabby old man sitting on a bench across the street.
He probably thought she was crazy, and she'd have to agree with him. Sharon did an about-face and determinedly resumed the climb to enter the dim vestibule.
Struck by the awesome stillness of the sanctuary, she pulled down the kneeling bar and knelt in the back pew. The quiet calmed her as she realized she'd been shaking since that morning.
As Sharon gazed at the stained glass windows, she tried to clear her head. The myriad colors of the glass created a prism of light sparkling over the shadows below. Votive candles flickered on either side of the altar, and Sharon became mesmerized by their flame.
Her attention was caught by a window high overhead that depicted a hovering angel, and she hoped her guardian angel was putting in overtime. She figured she'd need a legion of angels at this point.
Sharon didn't know what to do about Joe, but she knew now what to do with his baby. She'd love it completely, without shame. There was no other choice, especially after seeing the look in Joe's eyes.
She'd hurt the one person who'd never done anything to hurt her. Except when he dated Susan, she thought, but she'd practically shoved him into the other woman's arms.
As she thought about her relationship with Joe, Sharon realized she'd expected love to run on a time table, rather than to be given freely, as a gift. She'd been too concerned with protocol and appearances.
What a lonely existence she'd created for herself.
She didn't know how long she'd knelt in the church until her back grew stiff. Sharon rose then, acknowledging the strength within her and the surprising fact that it had always been there. Her strength hadn't come from Tom, as she'd thought, yet she'd lived her life under that premise. How profoundly unsettling.
From now on, she'd follow her own instincts. If only these revelations had come earlier. With a sad sigh, she headed for home, thinking of the difficult days ahead.
Joe parked on the side of the road and waited. Where was she? If Sharon didn't come along soon, he'd have to go back and look for her.
As he sat there, he thought about what he'd discovered. That must've been the secret Serena had reluctantly kept. Joe couldn't understand why Sharon hadn't come to him, when all along he'd only wanted what was best for her.
Couldn't she see that?
His baby. Was it true? He hadn't given her a chance to say anything before he'd erupted into righteous anger and hurt.
Joe ran his fingers through his hair. She hadn't given
him
a chance either. No experience had ever kept him so confused and unsure of himself. He didn't like the feeling, wanting to be close to her, yet knowing she didn't share those feelings.
Then, when they'd made love, he'd thought she needed him, and that he could make her happy. She had no idea what he was ready to give up for her, and gladly.
Human limitations were a little difficult getting used to, but he didn't mind, if Sharon would love him.
Joe was beginning to understand that it would take a lot longer for her to get over her husband. He knew it wasn't right to have such a strong dislike for a dead man. Joe had felt his world had ended when Sharon told him to leave the next morning, with nothing but misery and shame in her eyes.
He knew he should speak with Serena about this further, but he knew she'd ask for his final decision. Had she even agreed to give him until the end of the school year? He didn't think so.
Just then, Sharon's Honda flashed by, and Joe remembered why he was waiting. He'd see her safely home, then what?
How could he convince her to keep the child? Their child. It would be a bond between them, whether or not she wanted it to be. That way, there'd always be a chance.
Did he still want her after this? Yes, dammit. God help him, he wanted her more than ever, but his time was running out.