Eve - Iris Johansen [36]
“Then you’re alone,” Sandra said. “The way I was when I had you.”
She nodded jerkily. “Yes, isn’t it funny?” She added the bitter words that had so upset her, “Like mother, like daughter.”
Sandra reached out a tentative hand and touched Eve’s arm. “I can help you. I’ll take you to that Planned Parenthood Clinic tomorrow and sign all the papers. You don’t have to have this baby.”
Abortion. It was everyone’s first thought.
“My folks wouldn’t sign the permission, and I was only fifteen. They said I had to take responsibility for my sins. I was so scared … I don’t want you to be scared like that, Eve.”
She was scared right now. But not of having the child itself. It was giving up all her dreams of digging herself out of this slum. The fear of repeating all the mistakes of her mother and everyone around them.
And she had already started that cycle.
She had been so confident that if she was careful and worked hard, she could have it all.
She had not been careful enough, and it might destroy her.
Unless she destroyed the child she and John Gallo had created from that passion that had seemed worth any risk.
No.
The rejection was so strong that she felt almost ill again.
“Eve?” Sandra’s gaze was on her face. “It’s the only thing to do, honey. Believe me, I know how hard it is to raise a kid. It drains you…” She added quickly, “Not that you weren’t a sweet little baby. But toting you and picking you up from charity day-care centers. Working for minimum wage just to eat. It never seemed to stop. Everyone needs a little fun in their life.”
And that scared fifteen-year-old girl maybe more than others. Eve had never realized how vulnerable Sandra had been all those years of Eve’s childhood. “I’ll think about it, Sandra.”
“You do that.” She stood up. “We’ll talk about it in the morning. I’ll be ready to go with you.” She headed for the bedroom. “Then maybe we’ll stop and have lunch. If you have enough money. I’m broke again. Money just seems to run right through my fingers.”
On dope. But Sandra hadn’t seemed to be on anything that night. Or if she had, it hadn’t been obvious. She had been sincere and gentle, and if Eve hadn’t been so upset, she would have been touched.
She was touched, she realized. Admit it. She was only trying to harden her heart to Sandra because she’d been hurt so many times before. Strange, she didn’t usually admit that Sandra could hurt her, even to herself. Maybe she felt a kinship because of the baby she was carrying. But how could that be when the child wasn’t even real to her yet?
She wouldn’t tear this feeling apart and examine it. She had needed someone, and Sandra had been there. It hadn’t happened for years. Maybe that had been partly her fault. She had withdrawn from Sandra when she had realized that she couldn’t trust her to be there for her. How long ago? She couldn’t remember.
And she didn’t want to think about Sandra just then. It was time she stopped sitting in the dark and feeling sorry for herself. She had to make a choice whether to give up and let life run over her as it had Sandra or fight back.
There was no choice. She would rather step in front of a train than let herself be beaten down by what had happened to her. She had to find a way to cope.
All right, sit still. Let herself get over the shock and pain of what had happened to her first.
No. Nothing had “happened” to her. She couldn’t blame anyone, not even fate. She had been so dizzy with the need for him that she hadn’t been thinking clearly and coolly as she usually did. She had done this herself by lust and stupidity and overconfidence. Accept it and go on.
And try desperately to find a way out of this web that was about to smother her.
* * *
EVE HAD ALREADY SHOWERED and dressed the next morning by the time Sandra wandered into the living room.
“Not sick? You must have slept. You look better than me.” Sandra yawned. “But then I never was a morning person.”
“There’s orange