Page 53 of Love Story
“I love you.” John helped her up and through her window.
“I love you, too. Come tomorrow, John. Please.”
He was moving away now, heading for the street. He’d parked several houses down. “I will. I promise.”
His feet pounded a rhythm keeping time with his heart as he made his way to his car and drove off. Over the next few days he couldn’t call her, didn’t know how she was feeling or what she was doing or where her parents were about to send her. That night he waited up until two in the morning and again he went to her house.
But this time she wasn’t there. He could see her bed through a crack in the curtains. It was empty. John took a few steps away from the window, shocked. What was he supposed to do now? Where had they taken her? Just then the front porch light flicked on.
“I knew that was you last night.” Her father spat the words in his direction. “She’s gone, John Baxter. We moved her to a place where you can’t find her.” He took a couple menacing steps in John’s direction. “Don’t come here. Not ever again.”
There was nothing John could say. Nothing he could do.
The next day he talked to Betsy. “Find her for me. Please.” He must’ve sounded desperate because she looked almost alarmed. His voice broke. “I have to see her before she leaves.”
By then Betsy knew about the pregnancy. “I’ll try, John... Her dad would kill me if he knew I was talking to you.”
He thanked her but after a few days Betsy got back to him. Elizabeth was gone. Betsy had no idea where her parents had moved her. There was nothing more she could do to help.
And then John had no choice but to live his life. Wake up each morning and go to class, study for exams, write papers, then come home and fall asleep, only to do it all over again the next day.
All while he felt like he was dying.
Nights were the worst. John would lie in bed, eyes open, trying to imagine where she was or how she was feeling. He missed her so much most days he felt like he was suffocating. He’d dream at night about falling into a raging river and never having the strength to get to the bank. Just tossing and turning helplessly through the churning water.
Waking up from the nightmare didn’t help.
As the days turned to weeks, and the weeks to months he did research on the progress of her pregnancy. What she must’ve been feeling, what her body was going through, how the baby was growing.
When the semester ended, he got a call from Betsy. She met him at a park halfway between their houses.
“I have the address. Here.” She handed him a folded few pieces of paper. “She wrote you a letter, too.”
He thanked her, and long after Betsy was gone, John sat at the park in the freezing cold and stared at the letter. Her words kept him warm. Over and over again he let his eyes wander the length of the page. Then he’d start over again at the beginning.
Dear John,
I’m so sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye. They moved me to my aunt’s house at first, and then a few days later my father drove me to Illinois. I live in a house with five other girls. Pregnant, like me. All of them sent away. Most of us want to keep our babies, but none of us know how to make that happen.
John, I ache for you every day, every hour. I want you to know that. But I couldn’t write until now. My father left strict instructions with the houseparents that I wasn’t supposed to write letters to anyone.
Yesterday, he called me to tell me the final adoption plan and I begged him to let me write to Betsy. I still can’t believe he agreed. I guess he thinks you’re out of the picture. Out of my life—just because we haven’t seen each other.
Anyway, I’m sending you the address. You can’t write to me, unless you give the letter to Betsy and have her send it. That would work, I think. For now, anyway. Until my father figures out what we’re doing.
I still don’t want to give our baby up, John. But I don’t see any other way. It’s harder every day without you, every day watching my belly get bigger and knowing that I’ll never see this child grow up. If only there were something we could do.
I love you always,
Elizabeth
John couldn’t get enough of the precious few pages. And by the next day—despite everything working against them—he had something he hadn’t had since they’d gotten news of the baby.
He had a plan.
17
Not all their date nights were spent wandering the streets of downtown Bloomington. Ashley was spending this one helping Landon go through old boxes in the garage—something he’d wanted to do for a very long time. The boxes stood floor to ceiling taking up a large area of the garage—things her dad had left behind when he married Elaine and moved out. The year Ashley, Landon and the kids moved in.
