Take Four by Karen Kingsbury

ultrasound pictures.”
    Bailey felt guilty for taking Andi’s attitude personally. Of course she wasn’t thinking about jeans. “Can I see them?”
    Andi reached for a folder on her bedside table. “You won’t believe how clear they are.” Her voice sounded lighter. “It’s like there was a window into my stomach or something.”
    When they had talked last night, Andi mentioned that the ultrasound made her pregnancy so much more real. From what Bailey could tell, her friend was doubting her decision to give the baby up. Bailey took the folder, opened it, and felt her eyes grow wide. “Wow…” She looked at Andi. “It’s like a photograph. I was eight when Ricky was born, and I remember seeing my mom’s ultrasound pictures.” She looked at the first photo again, a picture of the baby’s face. “But they weren’t like this.” Even with a quick glance there was no denying that the baby was Andi’s. “He looks just like you.”
    “My mom says he looks like my baby pictures.” Her tone was soft, more maternal than before. “And like my three brothers who died before they were born.”
    Bailey stared at the photo, at the clarity of the lines and definition of his face, and she understood why Andi would be struggling now. The baby had to feel so much more real with pictures like this. Then knowing the child you were carrying looked so much like you—how would that feel? Bailey sorted through the other photos and handed the folder back to Andi. “So you’re thinking about keeping him?”
    “I’m not sure.” Andi set the folder down and pulled one knee up to her chest. “I guess it’s not that , so much as I can’t imagine giving him away. One day soon he’ll be born and instead of a picture there he’ll be. A tiny little boy who looks just like me. They’ll place him in my arms, and I’ll feel this crazy connection.” Her voice faded but she didn’t look away. “How am I supposed to let him go after that?”
    Bailey had no answers. The waters Andi was navigating were far too unknown for her to offer any real opinion. “Do your parents know how you feel?”
    “I think they’d like me to keep him.” Andi tilted her head, pensive. “They haven’t said that exactly, but you know…my mom was with me at the ultrasound. We were both crying.” Andi put her hand on her stomach. “Just thinking about having to say goodbye to him.”
    “What about the adoptive family?” Bailey kept her questions kind and unrushed. She didn’t want to push Andi, especially when she was clearly hurting. “Do they know about you yet?”
    “I’ve told the agency about my choice, but we haven’t arranged a meeting yet. I haven’t signed anything. The family’s supposed to find out soon.”
    “Hmmm.” Bailey’s heart ached for her friend. She took a few swallows of her latte. “There are no easy answers.”
    They talked awhile about the physical changes Andi was going through, how wild it was to feel a baby moving inside her and what it was like to know God was knitting him together a littlemore every day. And they talked about the classes they were taking. Andi wanted to go into social work or public speaking, so she could use her story to help girls realize the value of staying abstinent.
    “I have a feeling I’ll finish up in Los Angeles somewhere.” Andi hadn’t mentioned that before now. She took a long sip from her drink. “My parents talk about moving there after this movie. I think it’d be good. A change of scenery. Whether I give up the baby or not.”
    Their conversation lasted another half hour, and it was time for Bailey to go.
    “You have that screen test today, right?” Andi stood and hugged Bailey, but the struggle was back in her voice. “My dad mentioned it this morning.”
    “I do.” They shared a look, one tinged by the regret that on a day like this Andi should’ve been going to the screen test too. “It’s probably an extra part, but still…”
    “I got the feeling it