The teenager giggled, then with startling suddenness burst into tears. Molly didn’t have time to slide off the stool. Cait threw herself at her mother, burying her face against Molly’s shoulder. She cried, Molly rocked in that timeless, instinctive motion and held her, her own eyes burning. She’d have given anything, anything, to save her child from this pain.
“I love you,” she whispered. “Whatever decision you make, whatever comes of it. I love you.”
Eventually the sobs subsided, and finally Cait withdrew. Her face was blotchy, swollen, wet. “Oh, God. I have to blow my nose.”
Molly kissed her cheek, wet as it was, and got her a paper towel. She watched as Cait blew and mopped herself up. She ended up splashing cold water on her face at the sink and drying it on the dish towel. Then they looked at each other.
“Have you changed your mind?” Molly asked.
“I want to.” Emotion washed over her daughter’s face. “But I can’t. Mom, I just can’t!”
Molly nodded. “Then you’ve made the right decision for you. A hard one, but right.”
“Nobody will ever look at me the same, will they?”
What could she do but be honest? “No. But here’s something to think about. Yes, you have two and a half more years in high school. I know that sounds like forever now. But when you leave for college, this will be behind you. You can tell close friends about your pregnancy or not. That’ll be entirely up to you.”
“So even if the rest of high school sucks, it won’t last forever.” Cait pulled off a smile that filled Molly with pride.
“Right.” Oh, heavens. Don’t let yourself cry. “And I know this sounds horribly trite, but it’s also true. The people worth caring about will stand by you. They’ll still be your friends.”
“Easy to say,” she muttered.
“I know it is. I know.”
They were silent for a minute. If it weren’t for Richard, Molly thought, she’d consider starting a job search. She and Cait could move next summer. Cait could start over in a place where no one knew she was anything but a beautiful, smart, transfer student.
Richard or no Richard, was that what she should do? Molly had to ask herself. Or would Cait be a better person for making this decision and living with the consequences rather than escaping at least some of them?
I don’t know.
Something else to think about, it occurred to her. What with Facebook and other social media, the world was shrinking. Could Cait ever truly have a fresh start, or would her history follow her?
While her mother was thinking, Cait went back to the refrigerator. “I’m starved. Sabrina’s family eats this really gross cereal. It’s like something you’d feed a horse.”
Molly had heard the complaint before. “How about a grilled cheese sandwich?”
“Ooh. That sounds good.” Cait rummaged in the fridge. “Do you want one, too? I’ll make them.”
“Sure.”
“It was a really good game last night, wasn’t it?” Cait said, plopping the block of cheddar cheese on the counter.
“You bet. Now, Coach Loomis, he wasn’t as happy.”
Cait actually giggled. “I saw him. He was green.”
“Well, it doesn’t help that his own kid rejected his sport in favor of basketball.”
“Josh’s choice.”
“That doesn’t mean his dad can’t suffer.”
Cait paused in the act of buttering a slice of bread. There was a suspended moment before she resumed movement. “Like you will, you mean?”
“No, that’s not what I mean. Parents always suffer when their kids do. But we also have egos. When you excel, I’m glad for you, but I enjoy the reflected glory, too. How can I help it?”
“What about reflected shame?” she asked bitterly.
“Cait, look at me for a minute.”
Her daughter turned from the stove.
“You made a mistake. I wish it hadn’t happened, that you hadn’t gotten pregnant now, at your age. But I’m also incredibly proud of you. You made a really difficult decision, a brave one. And the courage you showed making it and sticking to your guns also reflects on me. I’m proud for you, but for me, too, because I can take some of the credit for the person you’ve become. That’s how parents think.”
Cait’s face momentarily crumpled before she whirled back to the stove, pancake turner in hand. “I love you, Mom.”
“I know.” Molly smiled at her back, the sting of all that pride and grief inside her. “I always knew.”
Her daughter glanced over her shoulder with wrinkled nose. “Because you’re so-o smart.”