Showers in Season by Beverly LaHaye

girl, who hasn’t done anything to deserve this.”
    “You’re right,” Barry cut in. “She didn’t ask to be born. That’s what they all say. ‘I didn’t ask to be born.’ So she doesn’t have to be.”
    Tory gaped at him, incredulous. “What was all that pro-life stuff about? You sent letters to Congress when they were voting on the partial birth abortion ban. You go to pro-life rallies every year. Who are you?”
    That seemed to break him. He set his elbows on the table and covered his face with both hands. His shoulders shook with the force of his despair. Finally, he moved his hands. “This decision…is… unspeakable to me. It’s one of the worst things I can think of doing.” He covered his mouth and looked at his plate again. “But I’ve got to tell you, Tory, there is something worse, and that something worse is allowing another baby like Nathan to come into the world and be trapped in bondage, and never be able to contribute one thing to this world.”
    She thought of blowing out the candle so the diners around them wouldn’t see their tears. But she couldn’t move, except to shake her head.
    “Tory, listen to me. I know this is hard for you. But it’s just a miscarriage. Nothing but a miscarriage. We’ll grieve our baby’s loss, we’ll be sad, we may never get over it, but it’s a whole lot better than being trapped for the rest of our lives.”
    “God doesn’t create life that isn’t supposed to be here,” she said again. “I believe that.”
    “Tory, this isn’t something that can be patched up, that a mother’s kiss can fix.”
    “I won’t do it,” she said through stiff lips. “I’m sorry, Barry, but I will not do it.”
    Angrily, he swiped the tears from his own face. “You won’t even consider it? What about my wishes, Tory? What about my say in all of this?”
    “If you want to kill our baby,” she said, “then you don’t get a say.” With that, she shoved back her chair and headed out of the restaurant. She reached the parking lot and looked around for their car, not knowing whether to call a cab or get in the car and drive home without Barry.
    He caught up to her in seconds. “Tory, don’t you walk out on me!”
    “I’m going home, Barry.” The tears wouldn’t stop coming.
    Barry got ahead of her and opened her door.
    He got in on the other side, started the car, but couldn’t drive. He began to weep over the steering wheel. “We’ve already lost our baby, Tory,” he cried. “The baby that we thought was coming, the baby we expected…It’s gone. And instead, we have this choice.”
    “My baby is not a choice,” she bit out. “It’s not a right, and it’s not a blob. This is a child. ”
    “Tory, all we have is a bunch of horrible choices, and I’m just trying to choose the one that is least bad. Abortion is the least of the evils I have to choose from.”
    “The birth of this baby will not be an evil,” she yelled. “She’s a human being. She may not be as smart as you, she may not be as productive…” Contempt rolled off her tongue with the word. “Barry, I hate this, too! But when you can’t figure things out for yourself, you don’t choose between evils! You go back to God and you let him tell you what to do. If God wants us to lose this baby, then I will have a miscarriage, but if he doesn’t, then this baby was meant to be in our family. My child…”
    “It’s my child, too,” Barry said.
    “No, it isn’t.” She slammed her hand on the dashboard. “Not if you could do this. Not if you could even suggest it. It’s not a choice, Barry, it’s a sin. A heinous, horrible sin. The worst one I can think of.”
    “There are times when we have to sin,” he said. “I would steal bread to feed my children. And in a way, that’s what I’m doing now.”
    “Stealing bread to feed your children?” she repeated, incredulous. “You can turn this into some noble thing that you’re doing for our family?”
    “You don’t