Francine Rivers - Her Daughter’s Dream

“I can see the guilt on your face. Your poor parents…” False sympathy oozed from her voice. “I’m so sorry about what they must be going through, Carolyn, but we can’t have you working here. Not in your-” her lips pursed-“ condition . People would think we approved.” Thelma’s eyes glinted.

When the telephone rang, Carolyn didn’t answer it, but rather picked up her purse, took her sweater off the back of the chair, and headed for the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Thelma demanded, loud enough for the two waiting patients to hear.

“Home.”

“Answer the telephone.”

“You just fired me. You answer it.”

“I didn’t mean you had to leave today !”

As Carolyn headed for Charlie’s red Impala, she imagined what Chel might say. Her friend would’ve known how to rock and shock Thelma enough to leave her speechless.

She drove home, hoping to get into the house and close herself in her room, where she could think, before Mom and Dad heard. Maybe she’d be safe for a few hours before the crap hit the fan. By tomorrow morning, the stench of her life would be all over town.

Oma called out to her. Carolyn wanted to pretend she didn’t hear. “Carolyn!”

She stopped and closed her eyes for a second, wondering if Oma had heard the news yet. Why not tell her? She might as well get it over with and have the last member of her immediate family hate her.

“I’m pregnant. And no, I don’t know who the father is. Mom and Dad wanted to keep it secret. Thelma figured it out. So the cat’s out of bag. I just got fired. So much for Mom and Dad saving face by dumping me in an unwed mothers’ home before the whole town knows.”

Oma said something in German.

Dropping to her knees in the gravel driveway, Carolyn sobbed. She felt the sharp pain of stones cutting into her flesh.

Oma’s strong hands pulled her tight against her. “It’s not the end of the world.”

Mom and Dad sat in silence as they heard the news. Oma told them. Having spent most of the afternoon hugging the porcelain throne, Carolyn barely managed to sit at the table. She didn’t eat, and neither did Mom and Dad after they heard Thelma Martin knew everything. Or thought she did. Carolyn kept her head down. “I’ll find another job.”

“What’s the point?” Dad threw his napkin on the table. “Who’d hire you now?”

“That’s a nice thing to say.” Oma sounded disgusted and angry.

Mom sighed heavily. “Thelma Martin is the biggest gossip in town. It’s bad luck Carolyn ended up working for them.”

Dad looked at Mom. “Have you been able to find out anything about homes?”

“I have another idea, but I need a little more time.”

Carolyn suspected she knew. She didn’t want to add an even bigger sin to all the rest she had committed. “I won’t have an abortion.”

Mom and Dad stared at her. “We wouldn’t suggest such a thing.” Mom spoke for both of them, but the guilt on their faces told Carolyn they’d already debated that solution. “Just stay home until we can sort this out.”

Oma left the table, slamming the front door as she went out.

Over the next week, Carolyn watched her parents try to live a normal life. They went to work; Carolyn stayed home. Oma invited Carolyn to ride into town with her while she ran errands, but Carolyn declined. If Mom and Dad didn’t want her showing her face, she wouldn’t.

When Sunday rolled around, they shocked her by saying they wanted her to come to church with them. “Why?” She couldn’t think of a worse idea. Thelma Martin was one of the deaconesses.

Mom looked determined. “People know what Thelma Martin is. And there are more people in that church than one nasty gossip.” Clearly, she had a point to make, and it didn’t matter how Carolyn felt. “You’re not staying home.”

People greeted them. Some gave pitying glances; others seemed embarrassed; most said nothing, just gave a nod and a faint smile. Mom led the way to the same pew they had occupied for years, six rows from the front, where they could see and hear everything. Oma told Carolyn to keep her head up. Rev. Elias stepped to the pulpit and gazed down at Carolyn, and then he looked at the rest of his congregants.

When the service ended, Carolyn just wanted to escape. Mom and Dad worked their way toward the door, where Rev. Elias stood. Carolyn saw Thelma whispering to several women. Oma stopped and glared at them.

Carolyn noticed her parents saying a quick, quiet word to Rev. Elias as they reached the door. He nodded grimly, shook Dad’s hand, and patted Mom sympathetically. Oma took Carolyn’s hand and pulled it through her arm. As they came to the door, Rev. Elias smiled at Oma, but ignored Carolyn. When he extended his hand to Oma, she ignored it and walked out the door.

“I’d like to shoot Thelma Martin.” Mom stared out the window.

Dad started the ignition. “She’s not saying anything that isn’t true.”

Mom and Dad went back to town that afternoon. Mom came home red-eyed from crying, but she was more serene than she had been in days. Dad seemed more relaxed, too. “Rev. Elias wants to talk with you, Carolyn. Monday is his day off. He said one o’clock would be convenient.”

The church door stood ajar when Carolyn arrived. She stepped into the narthex and saw Rev. Elias in his office, writing on a legal pad. Tapping lightly, she waited for permission to enter. After several minutes, he tossed his pen on the desk, sighed heavily, and looked at her. “Come in.” He sounded grim. “Sit down.” Leaning forward, he steepled his fingers. “Your parents and I talked yesterday. Did they tell you?”

“No, sir.” But she’d known, all the same.

“We had a long talk. I’ve never seen your father cry. You’ve broken their hearts. Mine, too.” He sat back in his big chair. “I wonder if you have any idea how we feel. I’ve watched you grow up. I had such hopes. They brought you to Sunday school; they brought you to youth group; they’ve done everything possible to rear their daughter as a moral, upright, responsible girl. You’ve disappointed all of us, Carolyn, everyone in the congregation.”

“I’ve disappointed myself, sir.”

“Oh, let’s not play games, shall we?” His tone hardened. “I know what goes on in Haight-Ashbury. I can imagine what you’ve been doing since you took off. ‘Doing your own thing.’ Isn’t that what you call it? And then you came back. I hoped. We all did. I thought maybe you’d repent. But then I saw you sitting in the pew with your eyes closed. You don’t like hearing the truth, do you? You don’t want to listen to the Word of God.”

“I pray-”

“Don’t lie to me. I wasn’t born yesterday.” He shook his head, mouth tight. “I confronted you. And you stared at me after that. Open defiance. I can see everything from where I stand. I can see you .”

Her body grew colder as his tone grew hotter.

“You can look like a Christian on the outside, but it’s the fruit that shows what you are.” His gaze flickered down, resting pointedly on her abdomen, then back up to stare coldly into her eyes. “You can’t hide now, can you? Everyone will know what you are.”

She didn’t think it could get worse, but he wasn’t finished.

“When your brother died, you didn’t even have the decency to come home for his funeral. You didn’t care enough to show him the honor he deserved. You wanted your own way. Now you have to live with the consequences.”

She bowed her head and cried.

“You’re sorry now.” Rev. Elias sounded weary. “You have regrets; you feel remorse. But I have yet to hear your confession. I see no evidence of repentance.”