Take Four (5 page)

Cody stopped and touched her cheek as gently as he could. “Always, Bailey.” They hadn’t talked about this, even since the Fourth of July. Almost as if it had been enough that they’d found something special together. Like they didn’t need to define it or analyze it or wonder about why it hadn’t happened sooner. Not until now. “Every moment…every day.”

She smiled, and for a moment it seemed like they would kiss again. The electricity between them, the connection was enough to stop his breathing. The air was cooling, and the deeper they got into the woods the less the fading sun cast light on the path. He wanted to talk more about this, but not here, with darkness falling around them. What if there really were snakes out here? They didn’t bother him, but he’d never forgive himself if something happened to her. “I think the turtles are a few yards up.”

The stream was on their right, and Cody led her off the path toward the water. He slipped his arm around her waist, the two of them standing shoulder-to-shoulder. “Keep quiet. We might hear them moving.”

Bailey snuggled against him, waiting—the air around them silent except for a subtle rustle of leaves overhead. Suddenly, further on a little, came the sound of something splashing into the water. Bailey gasped. “Was that a turtle or a snake?”

“Snakes aren’t that loud.” He kept from laughing, since she was serious. “It’s gotta be the turtles. Maybe a couple of them.” They kept walking, slowly, softly, and there in the last remaining rays of sunlight were two turtles swimming in the stream.

“Oh,” Bailey whispered. “They’re so cute.”

“They are. That’s why there aren’t lots of them left in the countryside. People take them home for pets.”

“They like it out here.” Bailey rested her head on Cody’s shoulder. “They look happy.”

He smiled. “Sort of like they’re smiling.”

“Exactly.” She giggled softly.

For a few minutes they stayed, watching the turtles swim together, and then exit onto a bank at the other side of the creek. When the turtles were out of sight, Cody led her back to the path. He wanted to kiss her so badly, here in the woods amidst the wonder of the turtles and the seclusion of the trees. But something about making that sort of move didn’t feel right. Especially with the questions Bailey had. She deserved his conversation first.

They were on the edge of the woods, with the clearing and their bikes in sight, when Cody spotted a fallen log. He pointed to it. “Let’s sit a minute.”

Side by side they sat, hands joined, their bodies close. The humidity had let up, and the slightest damp chill filled the air—a first hint of the impending fall. Cody enjoyed the warmth of her there next to him. He took a full breath and looked at her, straight into her heart. “You mentioned Iraq…how you hoped I’d been thinking about you when I was there.”

“Yeah. It was a fantasy, I guess.” Despite the shadows that fell across her face, her eyes shone with a depth that was unmistakable. “Before you left…I don’t know, I thought you and I found something special.”

“We did.” Cody wasn’t ready to tell her he silently cried into his pillow all the way to the airport when he shipped out, but it was time she knew a few of the details of that time in his life. “I thought about you constantly. Back when we were writing to each other.”

“I remember that.” Her eyes took on a faraway look. “I was so worried. I prayed for you every day.” She shivered a little. “I’ll never forget hearing that you were missing. After a while I thought…” she looked down and for a long time she said nothing. When
she lifted her eyes to his, they were flooded with unshed tears. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

She didn’t have to say it, but the truth remained. It was after that time—after he escaped life as a prisoner of war—that Cody’s letters grew further apart, his tone more distant. Eventually Bailey started spending more time with Tim. By the time Cody returned to Bloomington, Bailey had a boyfriend. None of that mattered now, because here they were. But still Cody struggled to explain why he’d distanced himself. The truth was, he didn’t think Bailey deserved him battered and broken. His baggage was too great.

He sighed. “When they captured me, I believed every single day I’d find a way out.” An intensity filled his voice, passion and pain over the memory of that time. “I couldn’t stand up in my cell, couldn’t straighten my legs or raise my arms. They beat us every day. Gave us some sort of watered down cereal and crusts of moldy bread.”

Bailey slid her hand up his arm and held on, clinging to him. “I hate that. I can’t picture you trapped that way.”

“At night there were rats.” He looked straight ahead, seeing life the way it had been those lonely weeks. “You could hear them in the dark, scurrying on the floor. Some of the guys wanted to give up, so that was the other part. Keeping them strong, making them believe.” He spared her the graphic details, because that time was behind him. He would tell her someday, if the two of them stayed together. But for now she needed to know only one thing. He shifted so he could see her better. Then he brought his hand to her cheek. “God was with me, that was my constant hope.”

Her expression told him she had no idea what was coming.

“Every day, every long night—not for a single moment did I think I’d die there. I prayed and I always believed I’d get out.” He lifted her chin with the crook of his finger. Their eyes met, and
after a few seconds he watched her fears ease some. “You know why?”

She shook her head.

“Because of you.” He hadn’t intended the conversation to get so intense, but she needed to know. She was right; he’d kept his feelings from her for a very long time. He was finished believing he wasn’t good enough for Bailey Flanigan. God had brought them together, and now nothing could make him leave. He would fight for her, stand by her, and here…here he would tell her how he felt because he loved her that much.

“Me?” Her voice was barely a whisper. She searched his face, not believing him. “You thought about me?”

“I wasn’t sure we’d ever have this.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “But if I could see you again, spend an afternoon with you again, I was going to find my way out.”

“Cody…” Tears filled her voice. “Why didn’t you tell me?” The sky was dusk now, the pinks and blues faded to charcoal gray. The early evening shadows created an intimacy they hadn’t shared together since the Fourth. “You came home and I thought…I thought you’d changed. That you didn’t care about me the way you did before. I wasn’t sure you ever cared in the first place.”

“I cared.” He wasn’t sure if he should kiss her, but the timing seemed right, one of the only ways he could let her know how he felt then, how he felt now. He drew closer to her until his lips found hers. The kiss was marked with a passion and longing, a desperation…because what if he hadn’t made it home? He drew back and let himself get lost in her eyes again. “I always cared.”

“Mmm.” She returned his kiss, bringing her hand up alongside his face and pushing her fingers into his hair. The kiss was slow and filled with emotion, the years of wondering answered in this single moment. She drew back and her eyes were so blue, so full of love. “All that time?” She kissed him again, briefly and
the moment was interrupted by a ripple of her sweet laughter. “Really?”

“Really.” He resisted the desire to kiss her again, longer this time. Her touch reminded him he still had to be careful. No matter how much control he thought he had, he couldn’t let his desire get ahead of him. He kissed her one last time, letting his fingers linger alongside her pretty face. For a long time he looked at her. “Sometimes I can’t believe this is really happening.”

“Me, either.” Her tears from earlier were gone, and her eyes danced.

Cody could feel his resistance fading, so before he could find a reason to stay he stood and helped her to her feet. “We have to get back.”

“Okay.” But instead of heading toward the bikes, she turned to him and hugged him, laying her head on his chest. “Thank you.” Her eyes found his once more. “For telling me.”

“There’s more.” He could feel himself regaining control as they walked slowly down the gravel path. He smiled at her. “But we have time.”

“We do, don’t we?” She grinned at him. Then after a brief hesitation, she turned and raced ahead. “First one home’s a triathlete.”

Cody laughed and it cost him a few seconds. By the time he reached his bike, Bailey was already pedaling up the hill, lowered over the handlebars once more, pushing herself toward home. Cody let her keep the lead, because he wanted to savor everything that had just happened, the conversation, the closeness they shared. Their kiss. They had found something rare and special these past few months. They had laughter and longing—and a faith that could get them through whatever tomorrow held. And they had something that made every day better than the last.

They had time.

N
OT ONCE SINCE SHE’D FIRST STEPPED FOOT
in the adoption agency had Andi Ellison wavered about her decision to give up her baby, but today was bound to be difficult. There was no way around it. Today she and her mom would walk into the doctor’s office where she would have her second ultrasound. The first had shown her the baby’s heartbeat.

This one would tell her if she were carrying a boy or a girl.

“How’re you feeling?” Her mom was driving and already they were halfway to Indianapolis.

“It’s weird.” Andi put her hand on her stomach. “The baby’s moving more today.” She looked at her mom. “I guess it’s making me think.” She was five months along, and her belly was growing, pushing against her dance pants and making jeans no longer an option.

“You’re still sure?” It was the question her mom and dad never asked, the one they all walked around and didn’t mention. But here…on the way to this very key appointment, it was time. If her mom didn’t ask the question, no one would.

Not even Andi.

“I think so.” She spread her fingers across her middle and thought about the little life growing inside her. Yes, the child was Taz’s baby, and in that sense she could let go. He had kept his distance since the day he walked out of her life and even now—when he knew about the baby—he didn’t care enough to even ask how she was doing. She could give up Taz’s baby, for sure. She’d already picked the adoptive family—the husband and wife
who had looked so much like Katy and Dayne Matthews—Luke and Reagan and their kids, Tommy and Malin. Andi still didn’t know their last names, and she hadn’t yet showed their photo-page to her parents. But they were the family she was sure would take her baby.

At least that’s how she thought she felt.

“Honey,” Lisa Ellison’s voice was soft, not wanting to push her daughter too far on the topic. “Are you doubting this? The adoption?”

“I don’t know.” Andi sighed. The part she hadn’t acknowledged until the past few weeks, when she began feeling the baby move inside her, was the obvious: the baby was hers too. Her firstborn child. She ran her thumbs over her firm stomach. Her mom was still waiting for an answer, and she shifted in her seat so she could see her better. “It’s harder. Feeling the baby move makes me realize…my daughter or son is growing inside me.”

“It’s an amazing feeling.” Her mom reached over and took hold of her hand. “I remember when you were that small, the fluttering…realizing I was finally going to be a mother.”

“Do you think about the babies you lost?” Andi had thought often lately about her lost siblings—the babies her mom had lost through miscarriage.

“Of course.” Her mom kept her eyes on the road, but she could see a shine that hadn’t been there before. “We wanted four kids or five. But after three miscarriages…all of them so late in the pregnancies…It was time.” She looked sad, like she still carried the loss with her. “The doctor told us we were done.” Her chin trembled a little and she shrugged one shoulder. “That was that.”

Andi had never talked about it. She didn’t know about the miscarriages at all until their last year in Indonesia. Andi was fifteen and even then her parents hadn’t talked about the details. “They were all boys, right?”

“They were.” Lisa smiled, but her eyes still showed her sorrow. “I like knowing that one day you’ll meet them. Your little brothers.”

For a while they were quiet, and she wondered about the boys—the three that were lost. Maybe if they’d lived, Andi never would’ve gone to Indiana University. She might’ve stayed home so she could be part of their lives, and she never would’ve met Taz. Never would’ve been in this situation. It was a loss she hadn’t truly felt until now. She gave her mom’s hand a squeeze that told her without words how sorry she was for her heartache. For the loss their family had spent a lifetime living with.

“I remember when you told me about losing the babies, how they were all boys,” Andi looked at the highway ahead, but all could she see was herself, the way she was back then, so sure she could solve any problem. “I figured one day I’d have a whole houseful of boys. All the boys you never got to raise, all the brothers I never got to have. And somehow that would make up for it.”

“You can’t make up for my pain,” her mom kept her eyes on the road, but she softly squeezed Andi’s hand.

“I guess.” She smiled at the memory of her innocent, all-believing self at that age. “You know what?”

“What, sweetheart?” Her mom put both hands on the wheel again.

“I’d still like a houseful of boys.” She looked down, suddenly aware that whether she was carrying a girl or boy, this baby would not be part of her future picture. “When the time’s right, I mean.”

Her mom’s smile was still laced with sadness, because she clearly understood. “And your dad and I will live right next door.”

They spent the rest of the drive talking about her dad’s movies. The upcoming filming of
Unlocked
and the theatrical release for
The Last Letter
. Her dad was meeting with Dayne Matthews this afternoon, working out movie details and waiting to hear
news about Andi’s appointment. The conversation made the time fly and in no time they were at the clinic.

An arrangement between the adoption agency and a topnotch medical clinic a few miles away meant that Andi’s care was paid for. It was why they made this trek for her appointments. So far the staff had been very compassionate and sensitive to what Andi was going through. They regularly talked about her decision to give her baby up for adoption, assuring her that she could still keep her baby if she chose.

“Andi,” a young technician named Oksana stepped into the waiting room only seconds after they arrived. She’d taken part in Andi’s visits before, and her smile was pleasant and understanding. “You and your mom can follow me.”

Andi nodded.
I’m doing the right thing…isn’t that so, God? You alone could’ve reached down from heaven and stopped me from ending this baby’s life. So this is what I’m supposed to do, right? Give the baby away…? But then why do I feel this way?

Daughter, I am with you…always.

I have to believe that…God’s with me. He’s with me right here, right now.
She breathed deeply as she stood. And when she had gathered her strength, she followed the woman. This was the right choice…it had to be. The knowledge gave every appointment here purpose and meaning, but this one especially.

As she prepared for the ultrasound, as she switched into a gown and laid down on the table, Andi remembered the time three months ago when she went to the crisis pregnancy center in Bloomington for her first ultrasound. How wonderful, this technology that could inform a woman of the truth about the baby inside her. She had talked to her friend Ashley Baxter several times since she’d come home to live with her parents, and she’d thanked Ashley for talking to her parents about her pregnancy. She and Ashley had even thought up ways Andi could help teenage girls better understand the importance of abstinence.

Andi stretched out on the table and noticed again how tight her stomach felt, the strange way it rose to a firm bump near her belly button. In this position, she could easily feel the flutterings her mother had talked about in the car, the way the baby seemed to be gradually exploring his or her surroundings.

The ultrasound wouldn’t take long. Oksana entered the room and prepared the machine, tapping a number of buttons and switches. “How’ve you been feeling?”

“Good.” Andi’s answer was quick, but honest. “I’m not nauseous anymore.”

“The second trimester is usually the easiest.” Oksana looked to be in her mid-twenties. She grinned at Andi and then at her mother, sitting a few feet away. “That, and we’ve all been praying for you.”

Andi smiled. Like most people at this doctor’s office, Oksansa seemed to have a strong faith in God and an easy way of sharing it. “Wait till you see what this ultrasound machine can do.” Oksana worked another few switches. “In a minute or so you’ll be looking right into the face of your baby.”

“Technology has improved.” Andi’s mother focused on the moniter. “When I was pregnant with Andi, we could barely tell her head from her feet.”

“Well, let’s take a look.” Oksansa positioned a wand over Andi’s stomach.

The anticipation made Andi’s heart race, and she had to remember to breathe. Gradually and then more quickly images began to appear on the screen. Fully shaped little arms and shoulders, feet and legs. And then Oksana turned to Andi. “Do you want to know what you’re having?”

Andi held her breath. In some ways she wanted to stop the information from ever reaching her heart. Because once she knew, the baby’s existence would feel so much more real…the
loss she was facing in choosing adoption, so much more real. Andi’s throat felt dry as she nodded. “Yes, please. I’d like to know.”

“It used to be we couldn’t always tell, but the way your baby’s positioned, this one’s easy.” Her smile was tender, mixed with the understanding that this news was bittersweet. “You’re having a boy, Andi.”

A boy.

Andi had expected this day to be tougher than any since she’d decided to give her baby up. But she hadn’t expected the rush of emotions washing over her now. She was having a boy, the way she’d dreamed of having her firstborn be a boy since that long ago conversation with her mother. Without realizing she was crying, two tears slid down the sides of her face. “Are…are you sure?”

“These ultrasounds are much more dependable than they used to be.” Oksana adjusted the wand and a better view came into focus. “This little one is a boy.”

Andi looked at her mother, at the tears on her cheeks. The news seemed to be hitting her the same way, with an emotional impact neither of them had expected. Andi stretched out her arm and took hold of her mother’s hand. She turned her attention again to the monitor as Oksana moved the wand and suddenly there he was, the face of her little boy. His eyes were closed, and he had one small fist pressed peacefully to his cheek. Andi heard herself utter the softest gasp, because the image was remarkably clear, as if her little son were looking at her through a window.

“He’s beautiful,” she whispered. Another set of tears fell hot and wet along the sides of her face. “Mom, isn’t he so beautiful?”

Her mom pressed her free hand to her lips and stifled what seemed like a sudden, soft couple of sobs. She couldn’t talk, so she only nodded, her eyes never leaving the baby’s face.

Andi looked again at the image of the little boy, and she saw him move his hand, almost as if he were stretching. It couldn’t be, but his face seemed to smile at her, telling her thank you for letting
him live, and that he couldn’t wait to get out and see her face to face. The notion was ridiculous, of course. But looking into his face, that’s how Andi felt. She blinked back her tears so she could see better. He didn’t look anything like Taz, at least not at this point. He had her cheekbones and nose, and his fingers looked chunky and strong, not slender like Taz’s. Like maybe he’d be tall and athletic the way her father was.

Oksana was giving them this time, allowing the wand to linger so Andi and her mother could stare at the baby as long as they wanted. She didn’t speak, since clearly the moment was personal.

“He…he looks like me,” Andi glanced at her mom again. “Don’t you think?”

“He does.” She pressed her fingers to her eyes and coughed a few times, until she seemed to have her voice again. “He looks like your little brothers. They all…when they were stillborn, they all had that same nose.”

Andi was so sure about giving her baby up for adoption that she hadn’t allowed herself to feel maternal. She wasn’t an expectant mother so much as she was a college girl who’d made a terrible mistake. She’d given up her virginity, and now she would pay for that choice all the days of her life. Especially now, when people tended to stare at her when they were out around town. Up until now, her body was merely carrying this baby to term so that someone else could take him as their own.

But here, watching her baby move and reposition himself inside her, looking at the softness of his cheeks and the definition of his face, Andi ached to hold him. The feeling was stronger than anything she’d ever known, a longing and a love that wasn’t learned and couldn’t be reasoned away. It simply was.

Oksana pushed another button on the machine to take several photos of the baby, his face and his spine, his toes and his midsection. She printed them, placed them in a folder, and told Andi the doctor would be in to see her in a few minutes. Before she
left, she came to Andi’s side, handed her a tissue, and looked into her eyes, her compassion tangible. “Have you chosen a family?”

“I have.” Andi sniffed and wiped her nose. “The agency is informing them this week.”

“I’d encourage you at this point to talk to your parents, really pray about your decision.” She looked at Andi’s mother and then back at Andi. “Seeing your baby this way makes the idea of giving birth much more real.” She hesitated, and when she spoke again there was a catch in her voice. “I was adopted. My birth mom was a teenage girl…too young to be a mom. I’ll be forever grateful to her for having the courage to let me live. And the courage to give me up.” She sniffed, finding control again. “But it’s a very difficult decision…it’s not for everyone, and once you make the choice, once you sign over your rights, there’s no going back.”

Andi squeezed her eyes shut and tried to keep her building tears from overtaking her. She wasn’t ready to be a mother, not for years. When that time came, she wanted to be married to a man like her daddy or a man like Dayne Matthews. She wanted to feel as certain about her decision now as she had when she first walked into the adoption agency three months ago.

But all she could see was the face of her baby.

She nodded and breathed in a few quick times from her nose, struggling for composure. “Th-thank you.”

Oksana patted Andi’s hand and then left the room. Andi turned her attention to her mom, who was still wiping at her eyes, the impact of the images still fresh for both of them. Her mom released her hand, stood, and found fresh tissues. She handed a few to Andi, and helped her to a sitting position. “He’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.”