all. But right now she would have given her left arm to be on her second glass of Chardonnay. Condescending magazine articles sneered at avoiding your problems by self-medicating, but now Betsy understood: whatever it took to get through the night.
“Yes.”
A woman would have to be blind not to notice all of Nick’s outstanding qualities. Even her mother, seething with anger at what she saw as adolescent defiance, could recall the extraordinary features of Grace’s fellow gutter rat. Had Nick been less physically attractive, less magnetic, would she be in this situation now? Probably not, Grace reluctantly acknowledged. The depth of her own shallowness shocked her. What more was there to say? Her grandmother, who had died the year before, used to say something about being careful not to fall for a sharp haircut. At the time, Grace had just nodded at yet another of her grandma’s outdated aphorisms, which had made no sense, like cat’s meow and giggle water. Now Grandma’s warning words echoed in her ears. Nick, in all his Abercrombie & Fitch poster glory, was nothing more than a sharp haircut.
CHAPTER 4
Each hour seemed to simultaneously drag on forever and pass in the blink of an eye. If only Grace could stop time or speed it up, or, better yet, go back to that moment in the back seat, right before Nick unzipped his jeans and Grace’s brain ceded control to her body. Standing naked in the bathroom, staring at her stomach in the mirror, wrapping a tape measure around her waist to see if she had started to puff up yet was a total waste of time, but she couldn’t stop herself.
Now that she knew Nick wasn’t trekking across Italy, Grace had no excuse not to tell him about the little souvenir from their third and last date. How would she tell this guy she hardly knew that ten minutes of fumbling in the back of his Jeep had resulted in a potential lifelong connection between them? There were no words.
Jennifer’s text was informative, and unwelcome. HE’S ON THE LAKE WITH SOME CHICK, ON ONE OF THE FLOATING DOCKS. GO GET HIM.
NOW? HOW DO I GET HIM ALONE? WHAT DO I SAY? Grace texted back.
Thanks to Jennifer, Grace didn’t have the coward’s luxury of claiming she didn’t know where he was. In the eight weeks since she’d last seen him, Nick had become like someone from another planet — the popular planet — and Grace couldn’t imagine how she could speak to him, let alone tell him what she needed to tell him.
TELL HIM YOU’VE GOT A BABY ON BOARD AND YOU NEED $500 FOR THE DR.
Grace knew that Nick had a right to know about the thing, the baby. Maybe he had intended to go to Europe, but somehow his plans fell through. Maybe he wasn’t the skeevy guy she now thought he was. Maybe he hadn’t called her because he’d lost her number, or he was too busy working at the local homeless shelter, which was nowhere near the lake where Jennifer kept spotting him, but still. Maybe he would be gentle and supportive, would help her through this, whatever she ended up doing. Maybe it would all work out for her. Maybe he was secretly in love with her. Maybe the chick on the lake with him was his cousin. Maybe he would propose on the floating dock in the middle of Silver Lake. And maybe pigs could fly.
$500?? Grace texted.
THAT’S HOW MUCH IT COSTS ON AVERAGE. Not one to leave anything to chance, Jennifer had researched the whole abortion process on the Internet. With the widespread availability of the procedure, in spite of all the well-publicized opposition, it was clear that Grace was not alone in her moment of weakness.
I THINK I’M GOING TO PUKE. I CAN’T DO IT, Grace’s fingers clumsily texted back.
MAN UP, WOMAN!! I’LL MEET YOU AT THE SOUTH LANDING IN FIFTEEN MINUTES. WEAR YOUR BATHING SUIT.
Jennifer realized her friend needed to be held up and pushed forward, and there was no one else to do it. In the forty hours since Grace had broken the news to her parents, they had not spoken a single word to her.
“Yes.”
A woman would have to be blind not to notice all of Nick’s outstanding qualities. Even her mother, seething with anger at what she saw as adolescent defiance, could recall the extraordinary features of Grace’s fellow gutter rat. Had Nick been less physically attractive, less magnetic, would she be in this situation now? Probably not, Grace reluctantly acknowledged. The depth of her own shallowness shocked her. What more was there to say? Her grandmother, who had died the year before, used to say something about being careful not to fall for a sharp haircut. At the time, Grace had just nodded at yet another of her grandma’s outdated aphorisms, which had made no sense, like cat’s meow and giggle water. Now Grandma’s warning words echoed in her ears. Nick, in all his Abercrombie & Fitch poster glory, was nothing more than a sharp haircut.
CHAPTER 4
Each hour seemed to simultaneously drag on forever and pass in the blink of an eye. If only Grace could stop time or speed it up, or, better yet, go back to that moment in the back seat, right before Nick unzipped his jeans and Grace’s brain ceded control to her body. Standing naked in the bathroom, staring at her stomach in the mirror, wrapping a tape measure around her waist to see if she had started to puff up yet was a total waste of time, but she couldn’t stop herself.
Now that she knew Nick wasn’t trekking across Italy, Grace had no excuse not to tell him about the little souvenir from their third and last date. How would she tell this guy she hardly knew that ten minutes of fumbling in the back of his Jeep had resulted in a potential lifelong connection between them? There were no words.
Jennifer’s text was informative, and unwelcome. HE’S ON THE LAKE WITH SOME CHICK, ON ONE OF THE FLOATING DOCKS. GO GET HIM.
NOW? HOW DO I GET HIM ALONE? WHAT DO I SAY? Grace texted back.
Thanks to Jennifer, Grace didn’t have the coward’s luxury of claiming she didn’t know where he was. In the eight weeks since she’d last seen him, Nick had become like someone from another planet — the popular planet — and Grace couldn’t imagine how she could speak to him, let alone tell him what she needed to tell him.
TELL HIM YOU’VE GOT A BABY ON BOARD AND YOU NEED $500 FOR THE DR.
Grace knew that Nick had a right to know about the thing, the baby. Maybe he had intended to go to Europe, but somehow his plans fell through. Maybe he wasn’t the skeevy guy she now thought he was. Maybe he hadn’t called her because he’d lost her number, or he was too busy working at the local homeless shelter, which was nowhere near the lake where Jennifer kept spotting him, but still. Maybe he would be gentle and supportive, would help her through this, whatever she ended up doing. Maybe it would all work out for her. Maybe he was secretly in love with her. Maybe the chick on the lake with him was his cousin. Maybe he would propose on the floating dock in the middle of Silver Lake. And maybe pigs could fly.
$500?? Grace texted.
THAT’S HOW MUCH IT COSTS ON AVERAGE. Not one to leave anything to chance, Jennifer had researched the whole abortion process on the Internet. With the widespread availability of the procedure, in spite of all the well-publicized opposition, it was clear that Grace was not alone in her moment of weakness.
I THINK I’M GOING TO PUKE. I CAN’T DO IT, Grace’s fingers clumsily texted back.
MAN UP, WOMAN!! I’LL MEET YOU AT THE SOUTH LANDING IN FIFTEEN MINUTES. WEAR YOUR BATHING SUIT.
Jennifer realized her friend needed to be held up and pushed forward, and there was no one else to do it. In the forty hours since Grace had broken the news to her parents, they had not spoken a single word to her.
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