And in that moment, Jade knew that she didn’t. The fetus inside her, as if by a stroke of magic, had suddenly ceased to have any relevance to the rape. The child growing inside her was hers. She loved it instantly and completely.
The revelation delivered such an emotional impact that she had collapsed on Georgie’s rubber-sheeted table. For half an hour she had sobbed uncontrollably, not from distress but from relief over being freed of the agonizing decision that had haunted her for weeks.
The outburst left her weak and tremulous. Eventually, she composed herself, tearfully thanked Georgie for her time, and left. Georgie had kept her fifty dollars, charging as much for talking an indecisive girl out of an abortion as she did to perform one.
“Ready to burp?” Jade tugged the nipple out of Graham’s mouth. He put up a fuss, but it subsided when Jade patted his back until he belched expansively. “My goodness!” she exclaimed. “That was something!” He looked up at her and grinned. An infusion of love went through her body as potently as an intravenous narcotic. She ran her thumb across his lower lip, wiping off the marbleized mixture of milk and saliva. She sucked it off her thumb, then resettled him against her breast and gave him back his bottle.
Shaken and weak from expended emotion, she had left Georgie’s house that day with renewed hope. If she explained everything to Gary, as she should have done the night of the rape, he would understand. As kind and loving as he was, he would agree with her decision to keep the baby. They would leave Palmetto, marry, and pursue their shared dreams. Gary would rear her baby as his own, and no one would ever know otherwise. With those plans set in her mind, she had sped toward Gary’s house.
But that was where her memory always begged to take a detour. The road to Gary’s farm always led straight to the barn and the grisly sight that had awaited her there.
“If only you had trusted in me a little while longer.” She leaned over and whispered the words against Graham’s velvety cheek. “Why’d you do it, Gary?” She knew why, of course. His faith in her had been destroyed. Those who had destroyed it were going about their lives unscathed—but not forever.
God had been merciful in one respect. Graham bore no resemblance to any of her three attackers. None of his features hinted at his paternity. He had dark, wavy hair, like hers. His eyes were going to remain blue and be tilted up slightly at the outer corners. The only face that emerged from his plump, baby prettiness was Ronald Sperry’s, which was a masculine version of her own. It pleased her that he favored her father.
From the day it had happened, Jade had realized that the accidental ruling on her father’s death was dubious. Nevertheless, hearing the truth from her mother had been a brutal blow. Velta had always vehemently denied that her husband’s fatal, self-inflicted wound was intentional. For her to admit that it was, and to suggest that Jade was responsible, demonstrated to Jade the depth of her mother’s antipathy.
Had she been so desperately unhappy living with her daughter that she would resort to running off with a slimy character like Harvey? It seemed so. Jade longed for one cherished memory of her mother that she could cling to. Unlike the treasured memories of her father, there were none of her mother.
After Graham finished feeding, she didn’t return him to his crib but continued to hold him against her, as she often did when she needed the comfort of human contact. Now that the shock of Velta’s desertion had lost some of its sting, the ramifications of how it affected her and Graham were beginning to sink in.
All Jade had with her was a change of clothing and about thirty dollars. That was barely enough money to get them back to Savannah. Once there, how could she possibly handle the move to Morgantown alone?
“What are we going to do, Graham?” She nuzzled her nose in his sweet-smelling neck. “What are we going to do?”
The easiest option would be to return to Savannah and resume her job, promising herself that as soon as she had saved enough money she would continue her education.
But saving money would be doubly difficult now that she would have the additional expense of child care. One postponement would pile onto another; the dream of seeking retribution would move farther from her grasp.
No, she couldn’t let that happen.
There had to be a way. If a way wasn’t provided, she would make one. She couldn’t let this opportunity pass. She had already sacrificed one scholarship and wasn’t going to sacrifice another.
Chapter Eleven
The doorbell echoed through the interior of the house. It was a dignified home, built in the Georgian style. The red brick was trimmed in white and accented with glossy black shutters on all the windows. It was set well away from the street, on a lawn that was meticulously manicured. The grass still glistened from its early morning watering by the automatic sprinkler system.
The obvious affluence made Jade feel self-conscious. She gave her skirt a critical glance, hoping the wrinkles didn’t show too badly. She moistened her fingers with her tongue and wiped Graham’s drooling mouth one final time, just as the front door was opened by a pretty, petite woman with ash-blond hair. Guessing, Jade placed her in her early fifties.
“Good morning.” Her soft gray eyes were drawn immediately to Graham, then she graciously smiled at Jade. “May I help you?”
“Good morning. Are you Mrs. Hearon?”
She nodded. “That’s right.”
“My name is Jade Sperry. I apologize for calling on you so early, but I wanted to catch Dean Hearon before he left for his office.” Taking Graham on campus with her had been a more discouraging prospect than bringing him to the dean’s home. “Is he still here, by any chance?”
“He’s having breakfast. Come in.”
“I’d rather stay here on the porch,” Jade said hesitantly. “What I have to see him about won’t take long.”
“Then there’s no reason for you not to come in. Please. Is this your little boy? He’s adorable.”
Jade found herself being ushered through beautiful but homey rooms. They passed through a sunny kitchen where the tantalizing smell of bacon and eggs made her salivate. These days her diet consisted mainly of Rice Krispies and peanut-butter sandwiches. She didn’t remember when she had last eaten a cooked meal.
They entered a glass-enclosed back porch that extended the width of the house. At a wrought-iron table with a glass top, Dean Hearon was finishing his breakfast. As on the day Jade had met him in his office, he was dressed in a brown suit and tie, but she could envision him wearing a sweater with suede elbow patches and baggy trousers with a shiny seat.
Grizzled hair encircled his balding head like a laurel wreath. Tufts of hair sprouted from his ears. He also had more than adequate nostril hair. Rather than repulsing, however, his hirsute features were endearing. His face was pleasant, his eyes friendly, his smile sweet. He glanced up curiously when his wife escorted Jade in. He removed the linen napkin he had tucked into his shirt collar and stood up.