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"Its okay, Lauren. Take a deep breath. " Angie looked at her. "What do you want to do?"
"Go back to October and use a condom. "
Angie laughed, but it was sad and a little strained. "Do you and David want to keep the baby?"
"How can I know something like that? I want . . . " She sagged deeper in her chair and bowed her head. Angie could tell that she was crying. She made almost no sound, as though shed learned to keep her tears inside. "Its my mess. I got myself into it; I have to get myself out of it. Maybe Mrs. Mauk will let me stay here for a while longer. "
Angie squeezed her eyes shut, feeling tears of her own. Memories came at her hard--Lauren at Help-Your-Neighbor House, freezing cold, but asking for a coat for her mother . . . in the grocery store parking lot on a rainy night, pressing flyers on windshields . . . saying softly I cant go to the homecoming dance and then hugging Angie for something as simple as a borrowed dress and some makeup.
Lauren was alone in the world. She was a good, responsible girl, and shed do the right thing or die trying, but how could a seventeen-year-old possibly find the right way on so treacherous a road? She would need help.
Shes not your daughter, Angela.
You be careful with this girl.
It was good advice, and now, at this moment, Angie was terrified not to take it. Shed worked so hard to come out of the darkness of baby-wanting; how could she let herself slide backward? Could she stand by Lauren and watch her belly grow and grow? Could she survive the intimacies of another womans pregnancy-- the morning sickness, the dreams that expanded with every gained pound, the wonder in tiny words like: She kicked me . . . hes a little gymnast . . . here, touch my stomach . . .
And yet.
How could she turn Lauren away at a time like this?
"Ill tell you what," Angie said slowly, unable, really, to say anything else. "Why dont you come live with me?"
Lauren gasped, looked up. "You dont mean that. "
"I do. "
"Youll change your mind. Youll see me get fatter and youll--"
"Have you ever trusted anyone?"
Lauren didnt answer, but the truth was in her eyes.
"Trust me. Come to the cottage for a while, until you figure out your future. You need to be taken care of. "
"Taken care of. "
Angie heard the wonder in Laurens voice. It was such a simple thing--caring--but what a crater in the soul its absence must leave.
"Ill clean your house and do the laundry. I can cook, too, and if youll show me what are weeds--"
"You dont need to clean my house. " Angie smiled. Though the fear was still there, the nervous can I watch this up close tension, she felt good, too. She could make a difference in this girls life. Maybe shed never be a mother; that didnt mean she couldnt act like one. "Just show up for work when youre scheduled and keep your grades up. Okay?"
Lauren threw herself into Angies arms, holding her in a death grip. "Okay. "
LAUREN PACKED HER CLOTHES AND SCHOOL UNIFORMS (unnecessary now), her makeup and her mementos, and still there was room left over.
The last thing she packed was a small, framed photograph of her and her mother. In it, they looked like a pair of showgirls, with their faces poked through painted openings. In truth, Lauren didnt remember ever posing for this picture. According to Mom, theyd been in Vegas at a truck stop on the way west. For years Lauren had tried to create a memory that matched the image, but one had never come.
It was the only picture of them together. She placed it safely between the layers of clothes and closed the suitcase. On the way downstairs, she stopped at Mrs. Mauks apartment.
"Here are the keys," she said.
"Where are you going?"
Lauren grabbed the womans arm and led her to the window. Outside, on the street, Angie stood beside her car, looking up at the building. "Thats Angie Malone. Im going to live with her. " She heard the wonder in her voice.
"I remember her. "
