Hope and Faith

SIXTY-ONE: FAITH

She spent the entire weekend indoors, laying under the covers or watching movies in the basement. She told her mother the same lie that she had told her father: she had come down with the flu. Her mother had been oh so concerned and offered to get her anything she needed, but all Faith wanted was to be alone.

She lay in her bed, pulling the covers tightly around her body. She tried to be as still as she could, listening for anything out of the ordinary. As though she'd somehow be able to hear a heartbeat or a sound emanating from inside of her stomach.

Faith wondered how far along she was. It could have been one month, it could have been two. She didn't pay attention to her menstrual cycle, and it had been irregular in the past. Thinking back, she couldn't even remember the last time that she had her period. That really begged the question.

She couldn't have been too far along; her stomach was still small and flat. She lifted up her shirt and placed her hand over her belly, feeling, waiting. Perhaps she'd feel a kick or a movement of some sort.

But nothing happened. No profound moment of bonding with the creature. Just pure nothingness.

Faith tried to convince herself that she was doing the right thing. She told herself that she wasn't being selfish. She justified her actions by repeating the phrase, my body, my choice.

Hope was wrong. Hope's opinions were clouded by her judgment. Clouded by belief in a system that wasn't even holy. The Protestant Church had so many flaws, Faith didn't even know where to begin. And to actually fool herself into thinking that Hope was different – that she wasn't some religious zombie, easily brainwashed by such a system – well, that mistake was on Faith.

______

By the time Monday morning arrived, Faith was filled with anxiety and nerves. She felt nauseous, and quite frankly, she wasn't sure if it was the morning sickness or the anxiety. Either way, she didn't eat anything for she wasn't even able to stomach it.

She was going alone. She didn't mind all that much. Maybe most girls would have been afraid, begging their ex-boyfriends or mother's to go with them. But Faith couldn't tell her mother. And she couldn't tell Sebastian. The only person she could tell was Hope, and there was nothing that Hope could do for her.

She had already cleared the days schedule with her mother. Faith had told her that she needed to go into town that morning to pick up some supplies. And with her complicit, tranquil behaviour all weekend, her mother willingly offered her the car. Now all she needed to do was go.

It was just after eight in the morning when she gathered up her things and headed out the front door. Her appointment was for ten, but she needed to account for driving time, and she also wanted to be there early. Give her time to settle down and calm herself. Mentally prepare.

It was as she was walking down her front steps when her morning took a drastic turn of events. There, standing at the end of her driveway, was Hope.

"What are you doing here?" Faith asked in a hushed whisper, walking hastily towards her.
Hope stood there staring at her. It looked as though she'd been crying. "I'm sorry."
"I don't have time for this. I'm going to be late."
Hope's face changed from solemn to surprised. "You're going right now? To..."
"Yes. And I need to leave now or I'll miss the appointment." Faith turned around and unlocked the car, throwing her purse into the passenger seat. She slammed the door and turned back to Hope.
Hope stood there, a look of unease and perplexity plagued her face. Faith didn't know what she was going to do, but quite frankly, Faith didn't care. She needed to leave.
"I'm coming with you," Hope suddenly said.
"What?"
"I'll come. To the appointment."
"Why on earth would you do that?"
"Because," Hope said, taking a step towards her. "I want to be there for you. To support you."
"But it's against everything you stand for."
"I know it is. And I don't know if I'll ever be able to find it in my heart to forgive you. But right now none of that matters. Right now the only thing I want is for you not to be alone."
Faith stared at her for a long time. She wanted to slap her yet kiss her at the same time. She was so angry, but so relieved. She didn't want Hope to think that they were okay, because they were far from okay. But Hope also made a good point: Faith didn't want to go alone.
"Fine," Faith found herself saying. "Get in. Let's go."
And so they went.

_______

The waiting room was cold and empty. Not many people aborting babies on this fine Monday morning, Faith thought. Hope sat beside her, holding up a newspaper but not reading it. She was shaking, Faith could tell. But Faith, too, was shaking.

Hope reached her hand out and placed it on Faith's knee. Faith stopped for a moment, as if to acknowledge this gesture, and then continued to shake.

They waited forty minutes. Forty minutes of jittery legs and anxious stomachs. Faith didn't know how much longer she'd be able to handle the waiting before the nurse called her name.

"Faith Everett," she finally said.
Faith's head shot up, as did Hope's.
"The doctor will see you now."

Faith turned and looked at Hope. She didn't need to say a word. Her eyes said it all.