Melissa’s mom wasn’t easy either, and the two butted heads regularly. Melissa struggled to believe either parent loved her, and soon she found herself feeling emotionally abandoned by her own family.

However, Melissa’s life and outlook began to change in June when she called the adoption agency. She assumed she was close to three months along. As soon as she explained her situation, the woman on the other end paused. It almost sounded like she was crying.

“I can’t tell you how encouraging it is to hear your story, Melissa. You did a brave thing, a courageous, life-giving thing for your baby.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Have you been seen by a doctor?”

Melissa told her the rest of the story and it sounded like the woman was typing on the other end. By the end of the call, Melissa had information about a doctor only a few miles away who would see her without cost to her. There was also a place where she could get financial assistance for food and vitamins, a pregnancy resource center (she’d never heard of such a thing), and an appointment to meet with a counselor at the adoption agency.

She had assumed she would need to do all of that herself and was surprised to find otherwise.

Brian said he wanted to support her decision, but he had emphasized that it was her decision, not theirs. He’d suggested she might want to “stay with someone out of town” while she went through with her pregnancy.

“And who did you have in mind?” she said, hands on hips.

He’d dropped the suggestion but his words brought a double wound. The first pain came from the fact that she was losing confidence that he would stick by her through the coming months. The second wound was the loss of her mom’s friend, Addie Young.

Addie had been Melissa’s godmother. She was a feisty woman with wild gray hair and tinted eyeglasses that made her look like a wrinkled federal agent. She had a way of staring at Melissa through those glasses that made her think the woman saw more than others did. After Melissa’s parents divorced, Addie had let Melissa stay with her on weekends, sensing the weight of that loss. They’d had long conversations about baking and life during the Depression and seeing Addie’s brothers fight in World War II, one of them returning, the other killed in the Ardennes during a bloody battle.

One day when Melissa was sixteen and Addie’s cough had grown worse, the old woman grew quiet. When she spoke, Melissa leaned in, hanging on every word she got out between coughs.