The Choice Read Free

on.”
    Sandy didn’t have the strength to argue. Shame had sapped her normal spunkiness.
    â€œI’m going outside,” she said.
    â€œGo ahead,” her mother replied. “It’s not a good time for us to talk. I’m as upset as you are and need some time to think before your father comes home. I’m disappointed in you, but I don’t want you to take the brunt of his reaction.”
    Sandy went into the backyard. Most of the leaves had fallen from the trees. Her brothers had raked them into the compost pile at the rear of their property. The grass was a rich green following the fall dose of fertilizer.
    Sandy opened the tiny door to the playhouse and crawled inside. She leaned against the bare counter that had served as a make-believe stove, sink, and changing table. A young girl’s imagination can be as strong as her childhood reality. Sandy pulled her knees up to her chin and closed her eyes. When she opened them, nothing had changed. She felt trapped. Imagination had lost its magic. Her present reality left no room for pretending.
    She was still pregnant.

TWO
    C oach Cochran came by the office today to increase his life insurance policy,” Bob Lincoln said as they sat around the supper table. “Did you know his wife is pregnant again?”
    â€œNo,” Julie replied.
    Sandy kept her eyes focused on the lasagna on her plate. She’d nibbled around the edges but wasn’t hungry. Her mother often prepared meals from scratch, but this supper had gone directly from the freezer into the oven and then to the table.
    â€œHe’s not going to give up till he gets a boy,” her father said. “One more girl and he’ll have enough for a basketball team. I’m going to talk to some guys in the booster club and see if we can’t scare up some extra cash for him by the end of the season. It’d be a shame to lose him to a big-city school over a few bucks. He’s doing a great job.”
    â€œThe players like him,” Sandy offered in a soft voice.
    â€œAnd they play their hearts out for him,” her father replied. He took a quick sip of sweet tea and leaned forward. “Do you know what else Coach Cochran told me?”
    Not waiting for anyone to guess, her father clapped his hands together.
    â€œHe believes Brad Donnelly is a bona fide Division I prospect at wide receiver! Cochran has been getting calls from coaches at a few SEC schools.” Sandy’s father raised his hands as if signaling a touchdown. “Including Auburn. War Eagle! Sandy, if Brad gets a scholarship offer, you could go to Auburn and try out for the cheerleading squad. I’m not trying to pressure you, but wouldn’t it be a blast if Brad made the team and you were on the sidelines? Cheerleading in college is a huge commitment, and your studies would have to come first, but being part of that would be something you’d be proud of for the rest of your life.”
    â€œWould we get to go to the home games?” Ben asked.
    â€œEvery single one of them,” his father answered. “And we might go to a few away games too. The whole thing got me as excited as a kid.”
    â€œYour lasagna is getting cold,” Julie said.
    Sandy’s father looked down as if suddenly discovering there was food on his plate. He took a big bite.
    â€œThis is great, honey,” he said, his mouth partially full. “Better than what they serve at Mama Rosario’s.”
    After supper, Sandy helped her mother put the dishes in the dishwasher. The two women worked in silence. The males in the family went into the den to watch TV for a few minutes before the boys did their homework.
    â€œWhen are we going to tell him?” Sandy whispered as she rinsed Jack’s plate. “I sure didn’t think about college all afternoon.”
    â€œI did,” her mother replied. “But not, of course, like your daddy. It’s a forty-minute drive to the