“That’s fine,” Margie tells them. “I’ll go pack and get out of your hair.”
This whole scene is so tragic. It’s obvious Margie’s parents love her. And they wouldn’t be this upset if they didn’t feel that way.
When Margie leaves the room, her mother tells me, “Don’t expect our gratitude.”
“I’m just trying to help your daughter. She needs a calm environment.”
Holly glares at me before walking out of the room and following her daughter up the stairs. Which leaves me with Nathan.
“I know you must think that Holly and I aren’t handling this very well,” he says. “You must think we’re horrible parents.”
“What I think doesn’t matter,” I tell him. “It’s your relationship with Margie that matters.”
The poor guy looks like he’s about to cry. “Holly might not thank you, but I do. I appreciate what you’re doing. We love Margie, we just don’t think having a baby is the right thing for her.”
“This certainly isn’t something she planned,” I tell him. “You should be proud at how maturely she’s dealing with this.” I can tell he’s about to disagree with me, so I say, “Margie knows her mind and she’s willing to do what it takes to hold true to her beliefs. That’s maturity.” I quickly add, “Please tell her I’ll meet her in my car when she’s ready.” Then I hightail it out of the Flynn household as fast as my feet will carry me.
Of all the problems I’ve had in my life, and there have certainly been a few doozies, I wouldn’t trade places with Margie Flynn for anything in this world. I won’t go as far as to say that I’m grateful for my journey, but at least I was old enough to feel like I could handle the problems that came my way.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
NOAH
I don’t know what I expected to happen when Allie and I met with Jordan and Margie this afternoon, but I didn’t think Allie would give Margie the lifeline that she did.
After leaving Rosemary’s, I stop off at the grocery store to pick up some much-needed supplies, and then I head back to my parents’ house.
I’ve found the weekends the hardest part about being back in Elk Lake. In Chicago, I’d be hanging out with friends, going to concerts, even jogging around the lake, but here, I don’t really know what to do.
After unpacking the groceries, I sit out on the back patio and drink a bottle of water. The more I sit here, the more I realize I want to talk to Allie and check on her. I eventually give into temptation and pull out my phone.
“Hello?” she answers before it can even ring through once.
“It’s me, Noah. Is Margie with you?”
“Yes, I mean no. I’m at her parents’ house waiting in my car for her.”
“Did you talk to her mom and dad?” I ask.
“Yeah.” She doesn’t sound thrilled, which I’m guessing means it didn’t go well.
When she doesn’t elaborate, I demand, “And? What happened?”
“She’s moving in with me. That about says it all, doesn’t it?”
“Are they mad? Are they grateful you’re helping their kid?”
“They didn’t bake me a pie and throw a party, if that’s what you want to know,” she says before explaining, “Margie’s mom is mad. Her dad seems a little more sympathetic, although he’s not exactly standing up for his daughter.”
“Do you think they’ll come around?” I ask.
She hems and haws before concluding, “Maybe? I suppose it depends on the timeline. For instance, I’m guessing by the time the baby is five, they might be back together as a family.”
“That bad?”
“Margie’s parents appear to be taking their daughter’s view on abortion as an act of defiance.”
I can’t seem to stop myself from asking, “What would you do in the same situation?”
