inyhds1

    I soon realized that Floyd, nineteen years my senior, felt Angela's pregnancy as his sole responsibility, financially, emotionally and for eighteen, long years. This baby was going to mess up his retirement plans, and cramp his lifestyle with me. I didn't know at the time how this thinking would threaten the stability of our marriage.
    Shawn had the money in hand to pay for an abortion, but Angela said she just couldn't do it. In fact, it was supposed to have happened that very morning. The two of them were going to go far away from home to make sure that none of our family would ever know. They were actually going to go through with this deed, never telling Angela's father or me.
    Angela sat on the loveseat and in a responsible tone of voice declared, "You don't have to help me. I got myself into this mess, I can handle it."
    Working at a fast food restaurant sixty hours a week, dropping out of school just to make a little money was the picture I imagined after her comment. Angela had two more years of high school and Shawn was going to begin college. I calculated the joint income potential in my head and cringed.
    There was no discussion about what would happen next. Angela had already made up her mind. She was going to have this baby, and Shawn wanted to marry her.
    I asked Angela, "Is Shawn the man that you feel you should spend the rest of your life with? Is he someone you love now, but don't think he's who you are to marry? Is he just a good friend that you trusted and experienced sex with and uh-oh?"
    I wanted her to tell me if she thought that marriage at sixteen was the best option. Believing that at this time, they were too young, I was relieved with Angela's response.
    "I want to take things one step at a time," she said. "Right now, marriage is one step that is way down on the list of what I need to think about."
    I now knew her darkest secret. That satisfied the first step. It was time to tell her father.

                                                                             ~

     I told Angela that I couldn't do another thing for her until her father knew. He had to be involved with this from the beginning.
      It takes an hour and fifteen minutes to drive from my front door to Angela's father's house. One hour and sixteen minutes later the phone rang.
      On the other end of the line I heard her father's voice roar, "She's going to have an abortion, if I have to hog tie her to the table and snatch it out myself!"
      Angela was screaming in desperation at the top of her lungs, "NO! NO!"
      Angela's father Ken yelled about how totally disgraced he was by her and that he wanted her out of the house. He couldn't bear to think of what others would say about him and his family.
      I could hear voices wailing over the phone declaring, "Angela, you've ruined your life. You have ruined your life!"
      All of the expectations Angela's father and I had for our little girl seemed gone by the wayside. We could just forget the white wedding dress with many bridesmaids. While that was still a long way down the road, a huge eraser wiped that hope completely out of our minds.
      Angela had plans for college. She had talked of becoming a lawyer from the time she was five years old. Her favorite show on television was "Paper Chase," watched it every week, about struggling law students at Harvard.
      "I can't wait until I can become a Supreme Court judge," she would say.
      "Why Angela?" we'd ask.
      "Because, BANG, BANG, BANG," she'd respond.
      "BANG, BANG, BANG?" we'd question.
      I was afraid that she wanted to execute the guilty criminals via a firing squad, but what she meant was that's what a judge does; she could strike the gavel.
     The reality for Angela's father left Shawn the one who stole these expectations from us. He had no place, no voice, and no opportunity to support Angela in her father's house. He was forced to leave.
      It was eleven o'clock by this time and I was prepared to leave immediately to go and pick Angela up to bring her home, though I thought that the better thing was to wait until morning. Waiting out the night gave Angela's father the time to pull himself together and embrace his daughter, and in tears tell her he loved her.
      As I went to pick her up the next morning, I could only imagine that for Angela, keeping this secret for ten long weeks was like holding her breath underwater. I couldn't let my baby drown. At the same time, I couldn't rescue her. She was going to have to swim to shore, but I could throw out the lifeline.
      With the truth out we could begin to be practical.