CHAPTER 27
2115 Words
CHAPTER 27
Kennedy spent that day resting on the Lindgrens’ couch, napping in their guest room, and assuring her mother over a series of five different phone conversations that she really was safe and unharmed. She nibbled her breakfast, finished about half of her lunch, and by evening was so hungry she cleaned her dinner plate twice.
Kennedy got in touch with her professors and wasn’t expected back in class until Monday. She had some work to do in the meantime to keep from falling too far behind, but Carl and Sandy insisted she stay at their home through the end of the weekend. Kennedy surprised herself and didn’t protest.
On Thursday morning, Sandy drove Kennedy over to her dorm so she could pick up her books. The door to her room was slightly open. Kennedy’s body shook at the memory of what had happened the last time she was there.
“So, our little celebrity finally makes her grand stage debut.” Willow’s face lit up when they entered, and she stood up from her desk. Her hair was already a darker shade than it had been at the beginning of the week. She took a step toward Kennedy. “I’m like not gonna injure you if I give you a hug or something, will I?”
Kennedy blinked. Her dad had ordered her a new set of contacts that would arrive in the mail in a week or less. “No, just be gentle.” She smiled. It was the first time she and Willow touched each other, at least as far as she could remember.
“So, you selling your book rights yet or anything?”
Kennedy winced at the shouts and gunshots bursting from Willow’s computer game.
“Oh, sorry about that.” Willow reached out and shut the monitor off.
Kennedy looked around. Besides Willow’s hair color, nothing had changed. There were her books on the shelf, her bag on the floor. She could tell by one of the lights that her laptop hadn’t even been shut down properly. Her phone — the real one, not the clone — was right there on her desk where she had left it.
“Do you want me to pick out a few outfits for you to bring back with us?” Sandy asked.
Kennedy had forgotten Sandy was there. “That would be great.” So far, she had been wearing Sandy’s old house dresses, which were comfortable enough on her back but not exactly what she’d consider her own personal style. She had already seen the way Willow raised her eyebrows at the oversized floral thing she was wearing today. “By the way, Sandy, this is my roommate Willow. This is Sandy, my pastor’s wife.”
She half-expected Willow to go into some tirade about the horrors of organized religion, but Willow simply waved her hand and gave her stage-ready smile. Kennedy pointed out the books she’d need, and Sandy packed them in a little duffel. To Kennedy’s surprise, Willow remained where she was instead of plopping back down behind her computer. “So you skipping town or something? Going into witness protection?”
Kennedy laughed. “No. I’m just going to be staying at Sandy’s for another few days until I’m recovered.”
“Well, I know you’re going to be wicked busy because you’re a huge over-achiever that way, but you need to make time for me to take you to the L’Aroma Bakery so you can tell me everything that happened. You know, before your memoir hits the bookshelves and everything.”
Kennedy wasn’t sure if Willow was being sarcastic or not, but she could sense the genuine concern behind the words. “Yeah, I’d like that.” It might be a while before she was ready to talk about it all, but she was glad Willow would be there to listen when the time came.
“Oh, by the way, your boyfriend’s been stopping by ... I don’t know, like every other hour to see if you’re back. He said he’s called you a dozen times or something, but your phone battery must’ve died. Again.”
Kennedy felt Sandy’s curious stare at the mention of the word boyfriend. Well, even though they weren’t dating, it was sweet that Reuben was so worried about her. She made herself a mental note to call him at the Lindgrens’.
Sandy refused to let Kennedy carry any of her things back to the car. As soon as they were on the road, Sandy stole a quick sideways glance. “Boyfriend?”
Kennedy tried to keep her voice casual. “He’s just a good friend. My lab partner.”
“Just a friend?” Sandy asked with that same playful tone. “Just a friend that stops by every hour on the hour to see if you’re ok?”
Kennedy felt the smile creep up on her face before she could stop it. Part of her wanted to change the subject. Part of her looked forward to getting her phone charged and hearing Reuben’s easy-going voice and cool accent again.
Sandy put on some worship music, and they drove for a while without saying anything. Kennedy didn’t know how she could ever show her full appreciation to the Lindgrens for everything they’d done for her. She wished she didn’t have to have this next conversation, but she may as well get over it. It wasn’t going to get any easier later.
“You know, I’ve been meaning to tell you and Carl ...”
Sandy reached over and lowered the speaker volume.
“I think I’m going to put my volunteer work on hold.”
Sandy turned a corner. “Well, that’s fine by us. We figured you may need time off after all you went through.”
“It’s not just that.” Could Sandy ever begin to guess what was going on in Kennedy’s heart? Kennedy hated to acknowledge it even to herself, but there was no way she was worthy to rejoin the pro-life movement. Not now. Probably not ever. As they drove, Kennedy told Sandy about the doubts that had plagued her since she took the first call from Jodie. “I just don’t really know where I stand on abortion at this point. I know it’s wrong. I know it’s taking an innocent life. But, I mean, what about someone like Jodie? She’s so tiny. I don’t think her body would have been able to carry a baby to term, and even if she could, I wouldn’t have wished that on her.”
Sandy was quiet. Kennedy expected her to come back with a Bible verse or a pro-life platitude to cover over all of Kennedy’s doubts and uncertainties like a miniature Band-Aid. The silence was unnerving, so she kept talking.
“There was a point when I realized they wanted to give Jodie the abortion pills, and a little part of me was sad that she was too far along in the pregnancy to actually take them. I mean, wouldn’t that be infinitely easier on her body?”
“Easier?” Sandy repeated, and Kennedy stared out the passenger window.
“I don’t know. I just, I wanted Jodie to be safe.” She was shaking. Could Sandy tell? The singer on the radio crooned quietly about God’s glorious majesty, and all Kennedy could think about was the puddle of blood on the floor of that bathroom.
She waited for Sandy to respond, for her to say it was normal to doubt. It was normal to feel the way she did. But Sandy only turned another corner and said, “We have one more quick stop.” It wasn’t until Kennedy saw the blue signs on the side of the road that she realized where they were headed.
When they parked in front of Providence Hospital, Kennedy’s legs refused to move. I can’t do this, she wanted to say, but she couldn’t find the breath to form the words.
Sandy put her hand on top of Kennedy’s. “There’s someone here who’s been asking to see you.”
Two silent tears streaked unchecked down Kennedy’s cheeks.
Sandy insisted they borrow one of the hospital’s wheelchairs since Jodie was staying in the children’s section, two towers over and four stories up. Kennedy and Sandy made their way through hallways painted in bright primary colors, watched a clown performing for a few dozen kids in hospital gowns, and passed dozens of patient rooms, but they still reached their destination before Kennedy was ready.
“Are you all right?” Sandy asked.
Kennedy blinked her eyes, and Sandy rolled the wheelchair in.
A nurse was busy adjusting some funny gadgets on Jodie’s feet. Jodie looked even smaller in her hospital gown. A shy smile inched its way across her face. “Hi.”
Kennedy sniffed. “Hi.”
Sandy wheeled the chair right up to the bedside. The nurse silently excused herself, and Sandy exclaimed loudly, “You know, I’ve been needing to find a restroom since we left the house. I’ll be back.”
Kennedy had no idea what to say. One of Jodie’s arms was bruised near the indent of her elbow. The other had an IV hooked up to it. Her face was puffy, but she looked stronger and had better color. She was sitting up in her bed and looked as embarrassed and unsure of herself as Kennedy felt.
“How ...”
“Did you ...”
They both began at once, and both stopped at the same time with nervous chuckles.
“How are you?” Kennedy finally asked. Their voices were hushed, as if Dustin and Vinny were right outside the door, listening in on everything they said.
“I ended up needing surgery. They ...” Jodie swallowed and stared at her Curious George sheets. “They, um, they said I’ll be able to go home in a few more days.”
“That’s great news.” Kennedy tried to sound positive but knew she had failed.
“I’m glad they got you out safe,” Jodie said. “My dad told me as soon as he heard.”
“Me, too.” Kennedy tried to swallow. “I ... Well, you were really sick. I was happy to hear you made it to the hospital.”
They stared blankly, and a few seconds later they both let out another round of nervous laughs, still under their breaths, still hushed, still haunted by the memories they both shared.
“You probably need your rest,” Kennedy finally stated. When would Sandy get back? Why had she ditched her here?
“Yeah, my mom’s been sleeping with me at night. Oh!” Jodie’s eyes widened. “Did you hear? It looks like we’ll probably be able to adopt Charlie.”
Kennedy forced a smile. “That’s great news.” As hard as she tried, she couldn’t drag any degree of enthusiasm into her voice.
“Yeah.” Jodie’s expression fell flat again by degrees. “I was really glad to hear that. He was fine, by the way. The day I was babysitting, I mean. He was fine. The police found him at his grandma’s.” She cleared her throat.
Kennedy glanced at the clock. How long was Sandy going to take?
“You know about my uncle?”
The question caught Kennedy off guard. Was Jodie asking if she knew he was dead? Or something else? She nodded tentatively.
Jodie let out her breath. “The doctor said something about giving the baby a DNA test. I guess you can do that even after ... Well ...” She bit her lower lip and stared past Kennedy. “At least Samir won’t get in trouble. Once they get the results back, I mean.”
“So it really was ...?” Kennedy couldn’t bring herself to complete the thought.
Jodie let out what sounded like a bad imitation of a laugh. “I didn’t want to tell my parents, you know, because I thought it might hurt the election.”
Kennedy didn’t know what to say. From their first phone conversation, there had been a connection, a certain camaraderie between her and Jodie she couldn’t explain. Now, she felt like they were slipping apart, pulled away from each other by a gravity far too strong for either to resist.
“It was a boy, you know.” Jodie’s voice was a small hush.
Kennedy felt her face scrunch up awkwardly. The corners of her eyes felt warm.
“A little, tiny baby boy,” Jodie breathed, staring past Kennedy’s shoulder.
“I bet he was beautiful.” Kennedy tried to cough but ended up making a painful choking noise deep in the back of her throat.
“I told my mom ...” Jodie let out her breath nervously. “I told my mom I wanted a picture. He just, he was so perfect. Do you think that’s weird?”
Kennedy shook her head but couldn’t form any words.
“I decided to name him Wayne.”
Kennedy tried to say she thought it was a perfect name, but she wasn’t sure she got it out right.
“They even let me hold him for a minute or two. I talked to him. Just a little. I told him I was sorry for thinking about, well, you know. I told him I hoped he wouldn’t forget me.” She looked over at Kennedy with shining eyes. “I want him to remember me when I get to heaven. Because when I’m there, I know I’m going to recognize him right away. Don’t you think?”
Kennedy didn’t know who started crying first. She didn’t know who reached out for whom. But when Sandy came to the door, Kennedy was up on Jodie’s bed. They were curled up into each other’s arms and sobbing, mourning little Wayne, releasing all the fear and trauma of the past few days. Kennedy cried for Jodie’s lost innocence, for the depravity that made such a sweet child suffer unimaginable torment, for the cruelty that spilled over into a world Kennedy had previously assumed was safe.
Sandy caught Kennedy’s eye and pointed to the hallway, mouthing, I’ll be out here. Half an hour later when their tears were dried up, Jodie said her mom would stop by with Charlie to visit soon. She and Kennedy both chuckled a little again as they said good-bye, and then Kennedy let Sandy wheel her back to the car. They didn’t say anything on the way home, but the silence filled Kennedy’s wounded, weary soul like words never could.
- Writer
