Betrayal - Fern Michaels [110]
“Mommy,” Sara cried, as Debbie entered the room. “Oh, it’s so terrible, and so not my fault. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m still a girl. I told Joshua, but he . . . He raped me. Oh, Mommy, what am I going to do?”
“Oh shut up. For Pete’s sake. I know you’re knocked up. You can have an abortion.”
Sara stopped crying. She would make one heck of an actress, Debbie thought. Of course, as fat as she is, she won’t get the chance someone like Emily could.
“Who told you?” Sara asked, all traces of whining gone.
“Your father. Exactly how many people have you told, Sara? You don’t want this getting out. It could work against you, if you know what I mean.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mommy.” Sara stuffed a blueberry muffin into her mouth.
“You need to get your act together. Don’t tell everyone you meet about this. Now, how far along are you?” This could be taken care of. It would take a bit of orchestrating, but Debbie was good at this.
“The doctor said I was about twenty-two weeks.” Sara unwrapped another muffin.
“Oh, my God!”
“What’s wrong with that? You asked me, and I told you.” She crammed half the muffin in her mouth.
“What in the hell do you do with the allowance I give you every month, besides eat? Did you forget to buy your birth control pills, or did you eat those, too? What the hell am I going to do now? You’ve really made a mess of things, Sara. You should be more like your sister. At least she has the good sense not to go and get herself pregnant by some loser piece-of-crap boyfriend!”
Sara looked at her mother. “Josh isn’t a loser!” Debbie closed the door. No doubt the office staff was getting another earful of Sara’s moaning and groaning.
Debbie yanked what was left of the muffin out of Sara’s hand. “Sit down and shut up.”
Sara did as she was told. Debbie sat across from her in a metal chair. Sara was so huge, she had to sit on the small love seat. “It’s illegal to abort a fetus at twenty-two weeks. And don’t give me any of your ‘Mommy’ crap, okay? You’re twenty years old! It’s time you acted like an adult. It is too late for you to abort this child! Does that mean anything at all to you?”
Sara seemed puzzled. Debbie knew Sara was a bit slow, but most of it was an act. Hell, she’s as devious and cunning as I am.
“I guess I’ll have to have a baby. Me and Josh can get married. You and Daddy will have a grandkid.”
“It’s not quite that simple. God.” Debbie stood and started pacing. She was as bad as her drunken husband. Her world was crashing around her. “Sara, Josh is a loser. He quit school in the eighth grade. I doubt if he even knows what a sperm is. His parents live in a bus, Sara. Do you want a child of yours to be raised like a homeless person? Do you?”
“It’s not so bad. I stay there sometimes. We build fires and roast hot dogs. I love them when they’re burned just a tinge.”
Sara was truly a genetic screwup.
“Well, no daughter of mine is going to raise her child in a goddamn bus. Do you understand me? You will not under any condition marry that hot dog–roasting uneducated moron you call your boyfriend. Can’t you just imagine what kind of father he would make?”
Sara smiled. “Couldn’t be any worse than Daddy. All he does is drink and go to that stupid club.”
Debbie thought Sara had a point, but she wasn’t going to give her credit for it.
“Your father is a very well-educated man. He’s had some issues with alcohol in the past, but he’s getting things under control. Now I want you to go home. I’m going to make sure you get the proper medical care while you’re pregnant. Then, the very second you deliver that moron you’re bound to give birth to, you will put it up for adoption. Is that understood?”
“But, Mommy, what if Josh wants this baby?”
“Sara, do you or Josh have any clue how much it costs to raise a child? No, don’t answer that. You don’t, and I’m sure he and his parents are clueless. And I am not so young that I’m ready to raise another child.”
“You’d be a grandmother. You wouldn’t have to.”
Sara was truly simple.
“And I