When Thou Art Broken

When I told him about my pregnancy, I couldn’t believe Jason actually dumped me. For about a week, I walked around like a person drowning, wishing the waves would suck me under. I kept hearing those words, ‘You’re going to get rid of it, aren’t you?’ Like what was inside me was not a living being, but an object he could toss away like a ball. I knew I’d done wrong to mess around with him, but I couldn’t compound that with another wrong. I had an obligation now. My senior year of high school was going to be a disaster and Jason didn’t care. He didn’t care about ‘it’ or me. I guess God had chosen to punish me as I deserved. I hadn’t spent much time on my knees conversing with the Almighty before, but my attitude was changing. I spent a lot of time begging for Jason to have a change of heart and an equal amount of time begging for a miscarriage. I didn’t really want to accept ‘No’ from the Almighty, although it looked like that was going to be His answer. I had to talk to someone. I didn’t think I could trust Janine with a secret this big, so it fell to Michael to bear the brunt of my revelations. I’d known him for most of my life, and I knew I could entrust him with any secret. It was after church that I flagged him down. “Hey, Michael, can you take a ride with me? I gotta ask your advice,” I said, grabbing his sleeve as he was exiting the Sunday school classroom on a day in late October. “Sounds serious,” he responded lightly, but he was used to me asking for his advice. “Meet me out front. I’m in my own car so I can drive myself home. Dad’s got some meeting anyway and Mom’s staying for choir practice. Lindsey’s going to her girlfriend’s house for lunch.” “Does this mean you’ll drop me home?” “You bet.” “Let me tell my Dad and I’ll be right there.” Michael disappeared for several minutes while he went to tell his father I was taking him home from church. I stood by the door, fidgeting and twirling a wisp of hair in front of my ear. Michael returned and held the door for me so I could walk out. It was nice to know chivalry wasn’t dead. I led the way to my car, wishing it didn’t look so battered. I unlocked the passenger side door and Michael eased himself in, leaning across the seat to release the locks on my side. I scooted into the driver’s seat and revved up the engine. “Sounds like you might have a loose belt,” he said. I guess he ought to know—seeing that his father was an auto mechanic. But Michael had no intentions of following in the family business, and his parents didn’t want him to. They had dreams of Michael going to college and joining the yuppies. “It’s been like that for ages,” I replied defensively. “Yeah, well, you should let me take a look at it.” “If you really want to, then O.K.,” I conceded testily. “What’s wrong, Lizzie? You seem uptight.” He knew me too well. Even though I was trying to relax, it wasn’t working. “Let’s talk when we get to the park.” “You look like someone died or something,” he added. I only wish, I thought. I drove the rest of the way in silence, because I didn’t have words for what I needed to say. There was no going back. By this time, we’d reached the park where people walked their dogs and did an exercise route, but this was Sunday afternoon and it was quiet. A mother was pushing her children on the swings, and over at the far end, a couple was watching their dog anoint a tree. I killed the engine, stepped out simultaneously with Michael, and slammed the door too hard. Michael raised his eyebrows and stared at me. “That’s not going to help her last,” he said. “I was hoping she wouldn’t,” I responded. I’d been angling my father for a new car since July, with the intention of passing the Nissan on to my younger sister, Lindsey, but Dad was a hard sell. “So what’s got you all upset?” asked Michael. I ignored his last question, walked around the car, and headed into the park, not looking at him. I wished I could feel as serene as the setting. Michael caught up to me. “You’re acting like it’s the end of the world.” “It is.” This was probably a bad beginning. “It’s not like you’re pregnant. ‘Cos if you are I’m gonna shoot you,” he said, trying to lift my black mood. “Does your dad own a gun?” That got his attention. He grabbed my arm and swung me around to face him, staring me down. “This isn’t funny, Lizzie. You are kidding me, right?” The expression on my face must have told him otherwise. “We can run another test, if you like. Instant results,” I added, sounding like a doctor telling a woman the lump in her breast is cancerous. Then for some stupid reason I started to cry, and Michael put his arms around me and let me sob on his best Sunday jacket. “Oh, God, Lizzie, I can’t believe you’ve got yourself into a mess like this.” I was trying to remember if I’d ever heard Michael take the Lord’s name in vain. It was probably a first for me. That made it one of many firsts today, like crying on Michael’s shoulder and telling him I was going to have a baby. Michael put his arm around my shoulder and walked me to the nearest bench. I sat down, beginning to feeling nausea in the pit of my stomach, and wondered if I was getting morning sickness in the early afternoon. “Who’s the lucky father?” He hadn’t chided me for the fact that hadn’t told him I was seeing someone. We used to share all our secrets. But that was before I surrendered my virginity to Jason. When I failed to respond, he tried another tack. “Does this guy know you’re gonna have his baby?” “Yeah,” I blubbered, and the tears that had been lying in wait all morning started up again. “He wants me to get rid of it.” “Slick mover, isn’t he? He a member?” That was the question I’d been dreading. “You don’t think I’d date a non-member, do you?” “Doesn’t look like it made much difference,” he chastised. “Look, Michael, the deal is, I’m not telling you who he is, O.K.? He dumped me when he found out.” “Love ‘em and leave ‘em,” Michael added wryly. “Thanks, Michael. So I’m a fool. I know that.” “Haven’t you been listening to anything we’ve been learning in church?” Obviously not, I thought. “I want to keep this baby, Michael.” I sounded like a child begging for candy. “You should really be talking to Bishop Dalton, not me.” “But I am talking to you.” “Fortunately for you, since my father’s been in the bishopric, I can tell you what advice Bishop Dalton would be giving you.” He threw a look at me then, reminding of the picture of Jesus Christ that hung in our living room. It was said that in the painting Christ had one condemning eye and one forgiving one. I bit my lip, but held his gaze. “You have two options. Option one: you marry the father of the baby.” “All right, so option one is out of the question. Give me option two.” “You’re not going to like option two.” He paused. “You have the baby and give it up for adoption to LDS Social Services. That means at least your child will be raised in an LDS home, with a loving mother and father. In your case, that’s what I’d recommend.” “I’m not giving up this baby,” I said firmly. Didn’t Michael get it? This wasn’t a thing we were talking about. It was a real live person growing inside me—the only piece of Jason I would ever have. I still wanted Jason as much as ever. “That’s what Bishop Dalton will tell you. Then he’ll tell you to go away and pray about what you should do, not to mention repenting for breaking the law of chastity.” He was sounding like my father now. Then he sat there, letting his words sink in. What I didn’t realize was that his mind was racing and he was miles ahead of me. “There is a third option,” he began thoughtfully. “Now you have my attention,” I rejoined, brightening. “I could marry you.”