Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
ALLIE
I practically have to run to catch up with Margie.
This was certainly not the day I thought it would be.
I planned to have coffee with both Finley and Noah, and then I thought about treating myself to a pedicure, a pizza, and a Netflix binge.
In no way did I think I’d be leaving the bakery with a new roommate—a pregnant teenage one, at that.
“Let’s go up to my apartment,” I tell Margie. “I’ll show it to you, and you can decide if you still want to stay with me for a while.”
“I’d want to stay with you if you lived in a cardboard box in the park,” she says dejectedly.
I point to the door that leads upstairs. “It’s just there.”
“You live above Rosemary’s?” she asks in surprise. “How cute is that?”
“Pretty cute,” I reply as a small smile comes to my face. Margie may feel like she’s got the weight of the world on her shoulders, but she’s still a kid with a kid’s enthusiasm over something as small as a cool apartment.
After unlocking the outside door, I lead the way up the stairs.
When I open my apartment door, Margie gasps, “This is really great!” Once we’re in the kitchen, she stops and looks around slowly.
“You have a lot of lamps,” she says before looking at me with some concern. “Why do you have so many lamps?”
“I’m not really sure,” I tell her honestly. “I guess I just like them.”
“Have you always had a lot of lamps?” She sounds like she might be reconsidering living with a crazy person.
“I used to be married,” I tell her. “And now that I’m on my own, I don’t like dark corners.” Before she can comment, I add, “I’m sure a therapist would have a field day with me, and possibly even suggest medication, but it’s just how I am right now.”
“I get it,” she says sympathetically. “It must be scary living alone. You want to make sure there’s nothing there that shouldn’t be.”
Leave it to a kid to accept my quirk without hesitation. I take her into the living room and show her the couch. “It pulls out,” I tell her. “We can fold it up during the day so we have a place to watch TV, but it can be your bedroom at night.”
In response, Margie sits down and bursts into tears all over again. I run into the kitchen and pour a glass of water for her. At the rate she’s going, she’s going to dehydrate herself. “Drink this,” I tell her. “You need to think of the baby.”
Margie takes the glass and drains it. “Thank you for caring about her. I assure you, nobody else does.”
I sit down next to her. “I don’t usually talk about this, so please don’t share it around.” She stares at me intently while nodding her head for me to continue. “I’ve had three miscarriages,” I tell her. “While I was married.”
“I’m so sorry.” Margie’s eyes well with tears all over again.
“Our situations were completely different,” I say, “but I do know what it’s like to feel the need to protect a life growing inside of you.”
“So, you get why I don’t want to have an abortion?” she asks hopefully.
“I do. I understand that no one is as protective as a mother, and our job starts the minute we find out we have a baby on board.”
“I wish my parents felt that way. I wish Jordan did, too.”
“Getting pregnant in high school is a lot different than when you’re married and planning to start a family,” I tell her.
While I’ve never met Margie’s parents, I still feel the need to give them the benefit of the doubt.
“Your mom and dad raised you expecting one thing for your life. That plan has changed rather dramatically. You can’t blame them for feeling some disappointment. ”
Leaning back against the overstuffed cushions, she says, “I don’t blame them for that.
But even I know that life rarely turns out like people think it will.
My parents have known for three weeks that I’m pregnant and they’re still yelling at me.
It’s like I don’t matter to them anymore.
All I am is the creator of a problem they want solved. ”
I inhale deeply and exhale with equal force before telling her, “I’m almost thirty and I still feel like my mother’s love comes with strings.” At her confused expression, I explain, “My mom thinks the only way for me to be happy is if I’m married with kids.”
After a beat, Margie asks, “What happened to your husband?” She’s quick to add, “I know it’s not any of my business, so you don’t have to tell me.”
“He cheated on me and got the other woman pregnant,” I tell her. “They just had quadruplets.”
An unexpected bark of amusement emerges from my new roommate which catches us both off guard. “Four babies? At once?” she asks after composing herself.
I nod my head. “Yup.”
Still hiccuping with merriment, she decides, “That’s absolutely horrible. I can’t even imagine life with one.”
“It’s a little satisfying,” I tell her. “My mom thinks it’s Brett’s karma for cheating on me. Not only did he get a baby for every one that we lost, but he got a bonus one.”
“If he cheated on you, I’m guessing he didn’t know the other woman that well. That’s got to make it a lot tougher.” She thinks a minute before adding, “They might not even love each other.”
“It might sound weird,” I tell her, “but for the sake of their kids, I hope they do love each other. There are four innocent lives that will be greatly affected if they don’t.”
“That’s big of you, Miss Rogers,” Margie says. “I mean, I thought Jordan loved me and look how he’s acting.”
“Jordan is seventeen,” I tell her. “That’s a lot different from being a grown adult.” Smiling at her, I add, “And you don’t have to call me Miss Rogers. I don’t have you in class so I think you should call me Allie.”
“Thank you, Allie,” Margie says. “I appreciate your generosity more than you’ll ever know. And I promise that once I figure out a plan, I’ll get out of your hair. I know having a knocked-up teenager living with you is probably the last thing in the world you want.”
“I’ve learned to expect the unexpected,” I tell her. “I’ve lived long enough to realize that things don’t always work out like you think they will.”
“Tell me about it,” she grunts dejectedly. “I was planning to apply to Northwestern. My test scores are good enough and my grades are high enough. I was even hoping for a scholarship.”
Unsuccessfully keeping the pity from my voice, I ask, “What did you want to study?”
“I wanted to be a theater major. The reason I wanted a scholarship is because my parents told me that I needed to major in something real. They weren’t going to pay for me to chase some fairytale, as they called it.”
“Do you know Faith’s husband Teddy?” I ask her.
“I don’t, but I’ve been trying to get up the nerve to introduce myself,” she says. “I mean, can you imagine a real Hollywood movie star living right here in Elk Lake?”
“He’s very nice,” I tell her. “In fact, I used to work at Rosemary’s before teaching at the high school. I’d be happy to introduce you, if you want.”
She sits up so straight you’d think she had a board strapped to her back. “I would love that! I mean, I know I can never be an actor now”—she briefly pats her stomach—“but it would be really cool to meet him and find out how he got so successful.”
“I’ll introduce you someday when he’s working,” I promise. “But for now, how about if I take you home so we can talk to your parents.”
Her excitement visibly dissipates. “I guess we should.”
We both stand up and walk toward the door when Margie turns around and faces me. “I don’t know why you’re doing any of this, Miss Ro … Allie. But you’re my guardian angel. I’ll spend the rest of my life repaying you.”
“I’ve always been taught that we’re not put on this Earth to be islands,” I tell Margie.
“I believe we’re meant to love and support each other and to help carry each other’s burdens, whenever we can.
” Margie looks like she’s about to cry again, so I hurry to add, “Come on, let’s do this.
Then we can come back and order a pizza for dinner. ”
We drive to the Flynns’ house in silence. I’m full of anxiety so I can’t imagine what Margie’s feeling.
Her dad is mowing the front yard when we pull up. He turns the machine off as we get out of the car and calls out, “Where have you been, Margie? Who’s your friend?”
Walking toward her dad, Margie answers, “I was at Rosemary’s meeting with Jordan. This is Miss Rogers. She teaches at the high school.” As an afterthought, she adds, “She’s Leah’s basketball coach.”
Her dad meets us at the front door. After opening the screen, he turns his attention to his daughter and asks, “What is she doing with you?”
“Go get Mom,” Margie says. “I’ll tell you together.”
Margie’s dad looks like he’s in his early forties. In fact, he almost looks too young to be her dad.
Leading me into the living room, my new roommate gestures toward a pale blue sofa. “We can sit here and wait for them.”
Moments later, Mr. Flynn returns with his wife. She’s got curly brown hair like her children, and she’s wearing an apron. She appears to be around her husband’s age.
Approaching me, she reaches out her hand to shake mine. “Leah’s told us a lot about you. Thank you for taking on coaching the girls.”
“Leah has always loved basketball,” her dad interjects while sitting down on the loveseat across from me and his older daughter.
“Your daughter is very good,” I tell them. “I give her all the credit for the school agreeing to have a girls’ team.”
Sitting next to her husband, Mrs. Flynn offers, “They couldn’t have done it without you, so thank you. We love that our daughter is being given this opportunity.”
The Flynns behavior doesn’t seem to be quite as egregious as I was expecting. In fact, they seem very supportive of Leah, which makes me wonder if they might come around to be the same for Margie.
Margie’s mom says, “I’m Holly, by the way. My husband is Nathan.”
“I’m Allie,” I tell them.
“So, what are you doing with Margie?” Nathan asks. “Do you have her for a class in school?” Before I can answer, he gives his daughter a look of frustration and demands, “Are you in trouble there, too?”
I hurry to respond. “I don’t have Margie in school,” I tell them. “In fact, I just met her this morning.” They look more confused than ever, so I explain, “I was having coffee with Coach Riley. Margie and Jordan joined us.”
“We haven’t seen Jordan since Margie told us she was pregnant,” Holly says angrily. I already know this, so I simply nod my head.
“It’s a lot for both of the kids to handle.”
“It wouldn’t have to be anything if Margie just got an abortion,” her dad says.
Okay, I guess we’re jumping right in. Clearing my throat, I respond, “About that. Margie tells me you aren’t in favor of her keeping the baby.”
“In favor of it?” her mom demands. “It’s hard work raising children. The moment you have them, your life is no longer about you. Not ever.”
Her father’s tone softens slightly. “We were hoping for Margie to actually have a life before being in this position.”
“I can certainly see why that is,” I tell them both. “But as you know, Margie has a big decision to make.”
“It shouldn’t be her decision,” Holly declares. “She’s just a child.”
Margie practically growls, “You might not realize this, but I turned eighteen yesterday.”
They both look shocked by the news, which makes it clear it wasn’t a day any of them celebrated. Nathan says, “We’ve all had a lot on our mind recently, I guess we forgot.” He belatedly tells his daughter, “Happy birthday, Margie.”
She simply rolls her eyes. “You guys told me you won’t support me having this baby so I’m leaving.”
“Leaving?!” her mom demands. “Where in the world do you think you’re going?” Then she looks at me. “Oh, I see. You’ve decided to get involved in this mess, have you?”
“Allie is going to let me stay with her for a while,” Margie tells them. “At least long enough for me to think some things through.”
Her mom stands up with her fists clenched at her sides. “If you leave, you’re not moving back home.”
Nathan’s expression doesn’t seem quite as determined as his wife, but he doesn’t contradict her.
“That’s fine,” Margie tells them. “I’ll go pack and get out of your hair.”
This whole scene is so tragic. It’s obvious Margie’s parents love her. And they wouldn’t be this upset if they didn’t feel that way.
When Margie leaves the room, her mother tells me, “Don’t expect our gratitude.”
“I’m just trying to help your daughter. She needs a calm environment.”
Holly glares at me before walking out of the room and following her daughter up the stairs. Which leaves me with Nathan.
“I know you must think that Holly and I aren’t handling this very well,” he says. “You must think we’re horrible parents.”
“What I think doesn’t matter,” I tell him. “It’s your relationship with Margie that matters.”
The poor guy looks like he’s about to cry. “Holly might not thank you, but I do. I appreciate what you’re doing. We love Margie, we just don’t think having a baby is the right thing for her.”
“This certainly isn’t something she planned,” I tell him.
“You should be proud at how maturely she’s dealing with this.
” I can tell he’s about to disagree with me, so I say, “Margie knows her mind and she’s willing to do what it takes to hold true to her beliefs.
That’s maturity.” I quickly add, “Please tell her I’ll meet her in my car when she’s ready.
” Then I hightail it out of the Flynn household as fast as my feet will carry me.
Of all the problems I’ve had in my life, and there have certainly been a few doozies, I wouldn’t trade places with Margie Flynn for anything in this world.
I won’t go as far as to say that I’m grateful for my journey, but at least I was old enough to feel like I could handle the problems that came my way.