Becoming Me (21 page)

“Furthermore,” he continued and I could see he was still slightly uncomfortable or maybe just embarrassed. “When I looked in a certain drawer, I could tell that you’d seen it—the card had gotten caught in the drawer and was bent.” I almost said I was sorry, but realized
that would be silly. Then he told me that he never did give her that bracelet, and that he had returned it later that week. He had bought it while flirting with the idea of having an affair. And although he continued seeing her off and on (for lunches and dinner), it just never went further than that.

“So you see,” he said as he reached for my hand, “I think God sent you as my guardian angel that day.” Well, I never would’ve guessed that my visit could have made any difference. But here’s the funny thing—after the shock of discovering about Belinda, I can’t even remember why I went there in the first place. I know I’d been upset about something, but that’s about all I remember.

Then my dad asked me what the date May 26 meant—was that when I’d written the poem? And so I told him. Then he really did cry. I felt sort of bad, making him cry like that on his birthday, but then I remembered how much better I felt after crying for Clay again last night. I even told Dad all about that. Then suddenly I looked at my watch and realized it was time to head back to the party. Dad couldn’t understand why I didn’t want to keep looking at cars, but I told him we could do it another day (which I’m hoping he won’t forget!).

The party was a success. Dad was totally surprised. Benjamin had been in charge of decorations which explained the really wild selection of colors and about a thousand balloons all over the place, which we all ended up popping before the night was over.

Beanie and Zach were there too, and I could tell by
the tightness around Beanie’s jaw, and by Zach’s happy disposition, that she had still not told him. I even took her aside at one point, and without being too pushy encouraged her to take care of this business. She assured me that she planned to. Although I have my doubts. And Beanie’s so thin, that I can just imagine her stomach starting to stick out before too long, and she’ll probably just tell Zach that she’s been putting on a little weight! Come on, Beanie, just get it over with!

School at long last
is over, and not a moment too soon as far as I’m concerned! The only teacher I was slightly sad to say good-bye to was Miss Tyler, because she’s not coming back next fall. She’s getting married and moving to Hawaii of all places (can’t feel too sorry for her about that). Anyway I gave her a card and thanked her for being such a good teacher, and she said she expected to read one of my books one day! I’m not taking that too seriously, but it was really nice just the same.

Beanie informed me today (after me not bugging her all this week—what self-control!) that she plans to tell Zach
tonight
. He’s taking her out to dinner to celebrate the last day of school. He already got a summer job with the parks and recreation (working with little kids, no less—great preparation for fatherhood I suppose). Anyway, I made Beanie promise to call me tomorrow morning to tell
me everything. And I promised to pray for her while she finally breaks the news. Man, I don’t think I could even take it much longer! I almost said something to Mom just yesterday when she wanted to know if Beanie would be able to go on the Mexico trip too.

This weekend, Dad’s going to take me car shopping again. I think we’ve got it narrowed down to a secondhand car (three or four years old and hopefully not ugly); it has to be something safe and get good gas mileage. Dad tried to talk me into a small pickup that he could borrow sometimes, but I flat out refused—that is, unless
he
wants to pay for the whole thing (in that case I just might consider it).

I also told my parents that I won’t mind continuing to work part-time during the school year (so I can make my car payments), but they told me it was too soon to decide, and they were more concerned with my education than about my financial contributions. But a lot of seniors do go to school for part of the day and then work the rest. And since I haven’t lost any credits (although I came close last winter), I can probably do that. But, like my dad said, I’ll think about that later. For now I just want to enjoy a few carefree days of summer. I don’t start work until next Wednesday.

I waited until noon for Beanie to call, then finally broke down and called her. But no one answered, which is strange because I thought she was going to start babysitting
Oliver today. Then Steph called me and asked if I knew where Beanie was; it seemed she never came home last night. Now, this has me worried, so I call Zach’s house, but his mom says he’s working today and she hasn’t seen Beanie (and the way she says it, I can tell she must not like Beanie very much and that bugs me).

So, I think I’ll try Beanie’s mom, but I can’t imagine why Beanie would go there. Unless, perhaps, she wanted to tell her about the pregnancy. But surely, she wouldn’t have spent the night. So I call and there’s no answer. Now, I’m feeling kind of freaked and really wishing I had a car. Mom’s still at work (teachers have today to clean up and stuff).

So, I hop on my old bike and ride over to the park where I think Beanie said Zach is supposed to be working. And sure enough there he is with a bunch of little kids hanging around. It’s kind of a sweet scene, but I’m really not in the mood to appreciate it. Anyway, I walk up and ask if he knows where Beanie is. Well, he looks real surprised to see me, and I can tell by the look on his face that he knows. But I don’t want to say anything about it right now. Then he tells me that she wanted to be dropped off at her mom’s last night. That’s the last he saw of her.

Now I’m getting all worried, thinking Beanie has told her mom and her mom has flipped out and like killed her or something. Now, I know that sounds like overreacting on my part, but I’ve seen Beanie’s mom lose her temper before, and it’s pretty scary. Something like this could
really set her off. So by the time I get to Beanie’s mom’s house, my legs are actually shaking with fear. Thankfully, her mom’s old beater car isn’t in the driveway, so at least I won’t have to face her. But after I knock on the door for a long time, no one answers and I’m thinking, what if Beanie is in there all beat up and unable to answer the door? Or what if she’s dead? I don’t know what to do. I consider breaking in, but if there’s nothing wrong here, I could get into a lot of trouble (Beanie’s mom is just the kind of person who might actually press charges!). So I consider calling the police, but what would I tell them?

I bang on the door again, this time I’m yelling out Beanie’s name, certain that the neighbors will be over here any minute, but then at least I can tell them that I’m worried for my friend’s safety. And then, finally, just when I think I’m about to totally lose it, the door opens, and there stands Beanie looking like she really is half dead.

“Are you okay?” I ask and she just shrugs then walks away and sinks into the disgusting heap in the living room that they call a couch. So then I lash into her (my fear has turned into anger) and I ask her what she thinks she’s doing, not coming home to Steph’s place, not telling anyone where she is, and how worried I’ve been.

She just looks up at me and tells me I’m not her mother and that I should
get a life
. Well, that really makes me mad. But instead of really letting her have it, I just look at her. And suddenly I see just how hopeless her
life must seem to her. And suddenly I just begin to cry. I tell her how sorry I am, and what a lousy friend I am, and how I’m just so relieved that she’s okay. Then she begins to cry too. And we both just sit there crying. Then I ask her if we can go outside in the sunshine and get some fresh air (it’s really bad in the house—I think it’s gotten worse after Beanie left).

So, we sit out on her dilapidated porch and she tells me the whole story about Zach. Of course, he wasn’t too happy to learn that he was going to become a father—what eighteen-year-old guy with a bright future is? I guess he even blamed Beanie for it at first. (Although according to her, he’s the one who was using “protection,” which she has since learned isn’t a hundred percent fool-proof—DUH!) So anyway, Zach finally reassures her that everything will be okay, and that he’ll take care of her. She said it was the first time in weeks that she felt like she could actually breathe.

Apparently her relief was short lived, because then Zach said he had an aunt who worked for Planned Parenthood, and she knew all there was to know about getting an abortion, and that she might even know how they could get some financing help too. Well, Beanie just came unglued at that point. And since they were downtown (not too far from where her mom lives) she started to walk home. Well, Zach wouldn’t let her walk, but he brought her here. And that was that.

Thankfully, Beanie had the clarity of mind (amazing, after all that went down last night) not to tell her
mother about the pregnancy. She said her mom was actually in a pretty good mood (and not drunk). But after they talked for a while, Beanie just went to bed. I felt sorry for Beanie having to sleep in there. So then I asked Beanie what she planned to do (I actually just meant for the day, like did she need a ride over to Steph’s place) but apparently she thought I meant her whole life in general.

So she emphatically informed me she would not have an abortion—ever, no matter what! And that she planned to give the baby up for adoption because she didn’t want to end up like her mom (poor and a single parent). And that after the baby is born (which she figures will be just after New Year’s—I hadn’t realized it would be that soon!) she will get a job and try to continue her schooling part time. I nodded, trying not to show how pitiful this whole thing sounded to me. I mean, at least she has a plan, I’m thinking. And then she sort of laughs and says, “Oh, yeah, that’s if I don’t kill myself first.”

Well, I’m hoping she’s kidding, but I’m not too sure. So I remind her that to kill herself was as bad as an abortion (actually worse!) because she’d be taking an innocent life with her. She looked at me funny, but at least I think it made her think. Then I suggested we walk over to my house which is about a mile away, because it was nice out and not too hot. And I knew she was probably hungry.

Then after I fixed her a nice big lunch, she took a nap. And that’s where she is right now. I already called Steph to tell her everything was okay (well, sort of) but
I’m not calling Zach. I don’t mind if he worries a little about her. At least, I hope he will. Zach has gone way down in my opinion today. I guess I shouldn’t be so hard on him. But I thought all Christians believed that abortion was wrong. I guess I was mistaken.

So much for my first relaxing day of summer vacation!

Tonight, Beanie and I had dinner at Steph’s house. Beanie and I cooked. Then after we got little Oliver to bed, we all sat and talked about everything. Steph acted really gracious toward Zach’s position on abortion, saying that not so long ago she thought a woman’s “right to choose” was the only way to go too. And that only recently had she begun to seriously question these things herself. That was mainly the result of their Bible study group (led by Tony).

It seems that Tony had told them all the story of how his mother had gotten pregnant with Clay when she was almost forty, and both parents worked hard just to keep food on the table for the other three kids. Anyway, the mom decided to get an abortion. Tony was a sophomore in high school at the time (the oldest of the kids and the only one who knew she was pregnant) and she asked him to drive her to the clinic. So all the way to the clinic, he questioned her decision and pleaded with her to reconsider. Finally, Tony begged her not to abort the baby, and actually promised that he would take care of the baby
himself. Well, his mom was so shocked that a sixteen-year-old boy could care so much that she changed her mind—and that is how Clay came into the world!

And throughout high school, Tony helped with his little baby brother as much as he could, but by then the mom was glad she’d had the child. And then when Tony’s parents died in a car accident about ten years later, Tony, barely out of seminary, but true to his original promise, took in his brother and cared for him ever since. Tony’s point, obviously, was that there was a divine purpose to Clay’s life (even if it did seem short-lived to us) and that no human person should ever try to play God by deciding who should live or die.

I told Steph that maybe Tony should share that story with Zach, and Beanie strongly agreed, so Steph is going to talk to Tony about it on Sunday. In the meantime, Beanie doesn’t plan to talk to Zach. She said she needs some time and space to think about her relationship with him.

Zach didn’t come to youth group today, and Beanie feels like it’s all her fault. I told Beanie that it was Zach’s choice, and she couldn’t blame herself for that. I encouraged her to focus her attention on her relationship with God, and not to worry about Zach. I wanted to say more, but didn’t want to sound like I was preaching. Besides, there’s a verse in Proverbs about just a few words being better than many. Hopefully, Beanie will begin to get
things right between her and God—because if ever anyone needed help and direction in her life, I’d say Beanie Jacobs should be at the top of God’s list. I know she’s at the top of my prayer list.

After church, Dad and I went car looking while Ben and Mom went to get him some new cleats for baseball—his feet have gotten bigger than Dad’s (and smell ten times worse too!). Anyway, after we’d looked at about a dozen cars (none of which seemed just right), Dad suggested we take a break and get a Coke. It’s a funny thing, but we ended up at the same greasy burger joint as on Dad’s birthday.

But today is lots hotter, and we sit in the shade sipping our drinks as I tell Dad that I don’t want to drive a car that looks just like Grandma’s (that seems to be the one he’s got his eye on). Well, he just laughs and says he understands, and maybe we can do better. Then he reaches in his pocket and pulls out a little box and hands it to me. So, I’m wondering, what’s the deal—my birthday isn’t until July. Then I think, could there be a key in here, did Dad already buy my car? (I hope not, because I know for a fact it would be a Ford Taurus because “they’re so safe.”)