The Weighty Decision
Walking through the park, Evelyn stepped onto the bridge and suddenly paused, leaning slightly over the railing to peer down. The river below was cold and darkperhaps not deep, but a fall would be treacherous. A shiver ran through her at the thought, and she hurried on.
She was returning from her friend Sophies, where she had spent the night after fleeing home during a dreadful row. Sophies mother, Mrs. Wilson, had welcomed her kindly.
Come in, love, Sophies in her room, shed said without question, though Evelyns distress was plain. Mrs. Wilson understood such things needed no explanation. She fed the girls supper, served tea with biscuits, and sent them off to bed. The next day was Sunday, and Evelyn decided to return home, not wishing to overstay her welcome.
Thank you, Mrs. Wilson. Ill go homemy parents must be worried, she murmured before leaving.
Crossing the bridge, Evelyn noticed a small church, strange as shed never paid it mind before. Shed walked this way many times with Sophie, chatting idly. Yet something drew her inside.
A service was underway, the congregation sparse. She slipped forward, eyes sweeping the unfamiliar space until they settled on a paintinga young woman cradling an infant with tender grace. Evelyn couldnt look away. Time blurred until a whisper broke her trance. An elderly woman in a headscarf leaned close.
Dont think twice, dear. Have the babe. All will be well.
Evelyn startled. How did you know?
Oh, child, Ive lived long enough to see what weighs on a heart, the woman smiled gently. Trust me. You wont be the first or last. No woman ever regrets her child. Ive seen many like you here. Have it, and pay no mind to the rest.
The vicars prayers droned on; the old woman crossed herself. Evelyn lingered, then stepped out, resolved.
*Come what may*, she thought. *Shes right.*
The day before, after lectures, Evelyn and Sophie had sat on a park bench, dreading home. Evelyn was distraught.
What will you do, Ev? Keep it? Have you told Andrew? Sophie pressed. And your parents?
Goodness, Sophie, let me breathe! Evelyn sighed. Her mind was fogged. She was only in her second year at university, and now this. How would she tell her mother? Margaret was stern, unpredictableshed never approve.
Mum might kill me, Evelyn whispered. Andrew said he isnt readytold me not to call again. After all these years, since secondary school He was my first.
Sophie cursed Andrews cowardice, indignant at his betrayal.
Aunt Margaret will rage, of course Sophie hesitated, recalling her steeliness. But what do *you* want?
What choice have I? Evelyn wiped a tear. Second year, abandoned, Mum will never agree. Its out of my hands.
That evening, the storm broke. Margarets voice was razor-edged.
How could you? Universitywheres your sense? No child. Youll finish your degree. I wont let you ruin your life.
Margaret, think, her father, George, cut in sharply. Is this how you guide your own daughter?
Quiet, George! Shell study, not nurse a babe, especially with Andrew gone. Whod want her after? No degree, a child in towstraight to the clinic.
And what of us? Well help raise our grandchild. You astonish me.
*You* wont wash nappies, Georgeyour precious job! Itll fall to me, and I work too. At forty, I wont play granny to another babe! Margaret shrieked.
Evelyn, coiled tight, fled to Sophies. Her parents shouts faded behind her.
—
She returned home to silence. George thumbed through his paper; Margaret clattered in the kitchen.
Back, then, Margaret snapped.
Welcome home, love, George said softly. Were you at Sophies?
Yes, Dad.
Standing firm, Evelyn spoke loud enough for the kitchen to hear.
Im having this baby. My decisions made. Her voice held such steel that even Margaret stayed silent.
Time softened the tension. One afternoon, as Evelyn and Sophie sat in the park, Andrews mother approached. Evelyn stiffened, though Helen was ever kind.
Girls, hello. Evelyn, might we talk?
Of course, Evelyn whispered. Sophie tactfully withdrew.
Helen sat beside her. I know about the baby. Sophie phonedrightly so. I beg you, keep it. Ill helpin every way.
Evelyn stared. This, she hadnt expected.
Andrews a fool to leave you. But this child its his. My eldest cant conceive, and Andrew Helens eyes glistened. He may never give me grandchildren. This babe would be family. Let me be part of its life.
Evelyn saw raw sincerity in her face.
—
Little Timothy arrived at the start of Evelyns third year. Rosy-cheeked and bright-eyed, he charmed everyoneespecially Grandpa George and Grandma Helen, who doted on him.
Margaret, however, packed her bags before the birth.
Stay and drown in nappies. I wont be a granny.
She left for a colleaguesa long-hidden affair. George, blindsided, reeled. Hed been faithful, never suspecting.
Evelyn pressed on without a gap year. George and Helen shared the load, and she graduated smoothly. By Timothys first birthday, life lightened.
Andrew enlisted, Helen mentioned once. Perhaps the army will mature him.
Later, she added, Hes staying on. Doesnt want to return.
Years passed. Timothy grew. Margaret severed all ties, never calling.
—
One evening, Evelyn confided in George.
Dad, Im seeing Oliverfrom work. Hes wonderful.
Bring him round, then.
Oliver, tall and amiable, shook Georges hand warmly.
Good evening, Mr. Harris.
Good to meet you.
To Evelyns delight, they bonded over shared interestseven the same alma mater.
I approve, Ev. Hes solidand adores Timothy, George said later.
Soon, Timothy had a doting stepfather, and George, a son-in-law he cherished. Helen, though fearing distance, remained close.
One Sunday stroll, Evelynhand resting on her rounded bellysmiled.
*That woman in church was right. No one regrets their child.*
Happy, with a husband who adored her, she awaited their daughters arrival.
