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“Helen, is marrying the child’s father out of the question?”
“Yes,” she mumbled. “A baby is the last thing he wants or needs.”
Angry heat spread throughout Lara’s body. “I see. What about your parents? How supportive will they be?”
“They love me,” she said as more tears filled her eyes. “They won’t kick me out. But Daddy’s a deacon in our church. Mom’s… Oh, God, they’ll just die of shame.”
“Do you intend to have the baby?”
“I don’t know.”
“You could always make it available for adoption.”
She shook her head morosely. “I don’t think he’d let me. Besides, if I had it, I could never give it away.”
“Have you considered abortion?”
“That’s probably what I’ll have to do.” She sobbed and blotted her nose. “Except… except I love him, you know? I don’t want to kill his baby.”
“You don’t have to make that decision tonight,” Lara said softly as she stroked the girl’s hand.
“If that’s what I decided, would you do it so nobody would know?”
“I’m sorry, Helen, no. I don’t perform D and Cs to terminate pregnancy.”
“How come?”
Having watched her own child die, aborting living tissue was something Lara simply couldn’t do unless the mother’s life was at risk. “That’s just my policy,” she told the girl. “However, if you are pregnant and that’s the alternative you choose, I’ll make the arrangements for you.”
Helen nodded, but Lara doubted that she was retaining much of this conversation. Dismay had numbed her. Lara patted her hand and told her she would come for her in a few minutes. “Lie quietly and finish your drink.”
Stepping into the hallway, she bolstered herself for the coming encounter. As she entered the waiting room, she flipped on the light switch and flooded the area with a cold, unforgiving, fluorescent glare. Key was slouched on one of the short sofas. Blinking to adjust his eyes to the sudden brightness, he slowly came to his feet.
“Why did you bring her to me?” Lara demanded angrily.
“I figured you needed the business.”
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” she said caustically, “but I would rather not have been drawn into another of your intrigues.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “From your tone of voice, I gather Helen was right. She’s pregnant?”
“It appears so.”
His head dropped forward, and he swore elaborately.
“I take it you don’t welcome this news.”
His head snapped up. “Damn right, Doc. It sucks.”
“You should have thought of that before sleeping with an unsophisticated girl like Helen. And why didn’t you take precautions? Surely a man of the world like you keeps a handy cache of condoms. Or does using one hamper your macho image?”
“Now just a frigging minute. You—”
“Clark told me all about your satyric reputation. I thought he was exaggerating, but apparently he wasn’t. ‘Key Tackett’s women.’ Around here, it’s like a club, isn’t it? The only requirement for membership is to have gone to bed with you.” She looked at him contemptuously.
“Maybe they should change the name to Key Tackett’s girls,” she said with a sneer. “What’s the matter with you? Are you losing your boyish charm? Has aging bruised your ego? Are you so insecure over your fading youth that you’ve resorted to bedding high school girls?”
“What difference does it make to you?” With his eyes half-closed, he added softly, “Jealous?”
