The memory of that fireside chat about abortion comforted Melissa, and she wondered how many other friends or acquaintances—even teachers—had gone through the procedure and simply hadn’t talked about it. But the memory also troubled her. Maybe it was the matter-of-fact way the girl had spoken. It seemed more important, more weighty, than having your teeth cleaned.

Then an even more somber thought came. Why did those people stand outside the clinic with signs and try to convince the women to change their minds? What right did they have to judge? Wasn’t this something a woman ought to decide on her own without pressure from others?

Unless . . .

She didn’t want to think of the unless. Her mother’s friend, Addie, was a big churchgoer, one of those with bumper stickers on the back of her car. It’s a child, not a choice. Abortion stops a beating heart. Melissa had gone to her church’s youth group a few times when she was younger. There were some cute guys there, but she didn’t understand all the talk about the Bible. When she was invited again, Melissa politely refused and said she was busy, and the woman seemed sad as she drove away.

Was Addie one of those people who yelled at girls walking into a clinic? What would happen if Melissa called and asked her opinion? She shook her head at the thought. Whether she talked to her parents or any of their friends, it would just be one big I-told-you-so.

No, the only person she could trust was Brian. He was the only one who really cared. She took another bite of cold nachos and then ran to the bathroom.

CHAPTER 3

Pain often provides an opportunity we don’t desire. And on that day in 1999, the pain in the heart of Susan Colton provided another opportunity for her husband to love her well.

The two rode in silence, passing the Louisiana countryside as Jimmy drove their Jeep as if steered by some inner compass.

Susan was thirty-six, with blonde, shoulder-length hair and a pleasant smile. She and Jimmy made the perfect pair, everyone said. He was two years older but they both could pass for much younger. He had neatly trimmed brown hair and a boyish smile that had attracted her at first glance, though she had tried not to seem too interested. Now all he had to do was flash that smile and her heart melted.

Jimmy, a constant listener to talk radio anytime he was in the car, talking back to whoever’s voice he heard, sensed that Susan needed the quiet. That was part of his inner compass too. He had an ability to know what she needed without asking, at least a lot of the time.