“Risa, you are so busy. It’s not necessary.”
“I have lots of free hours to do something constructive.”
I caught a flicker of anger on the woman’s face before a fake smile appeared. “Let’s see if any are awake.”
“Perfect.” I followed her into the common area, where about eight young women in various stages of pregnancy chatted, watched TV, or read.
“Girls, I have someone who wants to meet you.” Anna gestured to me. “This is Risa Jacobs and she’s volunteered here with the church that supports us in so many ways. She stopped by to see if we’d like to attend the church’s Christmas Eve service, and I know several of you would enjoy going.”
“Hi.” I waved. “If any of you would like to talk, play a game, or pray, I’m available.”
A very pregnant young woman raised her hand from a nearby sofa. “I have a hard decision to make about my baby. Prayer would be wonderful. My name is Sara.”
“I’d be honored. Where shall we go for privacy?” I turned to Ms. Wright. “Do you have a suggestion?”
“My office is available.”
I questioned if Ms. Wright had her office bugged. I turned to the young woman. “Will that work?”
Sara sighed. “I prefer my room.”
“Is it presentable?” Ms. Wright said.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Two other women requested prayers and preferred Anna’s office.
Sara led me to her room. I remembered the setup of the small bedrooms housing the residents. This one was painted pale yellow, and her bedspread carried the yellow with blue flowers. Simple but clean and fresh. But Sara’s bright-red hair streaked with purple, a nose ring, and black nail polish indicated the soft colors might have been more suitable for another young woman. She offered me the single chair and sat on her bed.
“Have you been here long?” I said.
“Three months. I had nowhere to go, and Ms. Wright welcomed me with open arms. The God-thing bothered me at first, but I’m okay. From where I come from, this is a huge upgrade, which is why I asked for prayer privately.”
“Of course. I’m glad you’re in a safe place, and I will continue to pray for you after today. Ms. Wright is a lovely woman, inside and out,” I said. “And Myra Cummings is a wealth of resources.”
“Myra is like the mom I never had. Love her too. I’ve been trying to figure out what is best for my baby. Ms. Wright and I have talked.” She rubbed her palms on her jean-clad thighs. “I’m sorry. My hormones make me want to cry at the strangest times.”
“It’s okay.” I reached for a tissue from the nightstand and handed it to her.
Sara dabbed beneath her eyes. “I’m thinking of giving my baby up for adoption. Ms. Wright has counseled me about it so I’d be sure to make the right decision. She said allowing a couple who can love and take care of my baby is the best thing I can do for him or her. She’s praying for me, and I thought one more person would help me decide. My boyfriend doesn’t want me to keep it, but I’m not going back to him no matter what I decide.”
“If you keep your baby, do you have means to support yourself and the child?”
“My grandmother said I could live with her, and she’d babysit while I worked.”
I moved to the bed beside Sara and took her hand. “What do you want to do?”
She swiped at a tear. “But is it best for the baby?”
“The most important thing a baby needs is love. Have you talked to a private or church-sponsored adoption agency?”
Another tear fell over Sara’s cheek. “Yes, a private agency. I’ve talked to a man and his wife who’d very much like a child of their own. They’ve been married ten years and feel God has called them to adopt.”
“Do you like what you’ve seen?”
“I suppose. They’re in their late thirties. He has a good job. She’s blonde, but probably dyed, and he has dark hair. Both have blue eyes, and my baby will have brown.” She cocked her head. “They showed me pictures of their home, the baby’s room, and a huge backyard.”
According to Gage’s report, Harvey Sinclair had blue eyes. But so did lots of people.