Summer by Karen Kingsbury Page B

in the rubble of the Twin Towers, Landon had been the one who put his own life on hold while he spent nearly three months digging through the pile until his friend was found.
    Whatever the truth about their little girl, Landon would stand strong in the journey. And he would do so not just for himself but for her. She held tight to his arm and nodded.
    They returned to the office, and this time Dr. McDaniel met them on the other side of her desk. She hugged Ashley and then Landon before they were seated. “I’m so sorry. I can only tell you that God has a plan for every child. No matter how brief the life.”
    Ashley felt sick again.
    “We’ll meet in a few weeks so we can talk about the details. For now, I understand you need time.” She handed Landon a pamphlet. “Anencephaly is described here. We can do another ultrasound in a few weeks, but the results of today’s test are conclusive.” She leaned against her desk and folded her arms. “I’m so sorry.”
    Ashley pursed her lips and exhaled in short bursts. She refused to let the doctor’s words penetrate to her heart. The woman wasn’t saying this about her baby, about her first daughter. No, she was merely reciting a list of medical facts. Nothing was conclusive until a baby was born. God would have the final say. Period.
    Landon took the material and assured the doctor they would schedule another ultrasound for two weeks from now.
    “I don’t think this will interest you, but I must tell you all the same.” Dr. McDaniel looked beyond sad, as if the news she was delivering had indeed touched her in a personal way. “Many women choose to abort babies with anencephaly. It’s—” she seemed to struggle to find the right words—“very difficult emotionally carrying a baby to full term knowing that the baby will die almost immediately upon birth. Obviously an abortion isn’t something I would do, and it’s not something I would recommend. But I’m obligated to tell you.”
    Another wave of nausea washed over Ashley. She gripped the arms of her chair, and for a moment she was back in France, back in the abortion clinic ready to rid her body of the tiny life growing inside her. A shiver ran down her spine and her arms. At the last possible moment, she had decided her mistakes weren’t her baby’s fault, and she’d listened to herself, her instincts, instead of the technician at the clinic or the married artist she’d slept with months earlier.
    Her decision to choose life had resulted in one of the greatest gifts ever. Her son Cole. The words stuck in her throat for a few seconds, but then in a rush they came out loud and certain, interrupting the doctor even as she was talking about various counselors they might visit and how anyone could understand having an abortion under these circumstances. “There won’t be an abortion. Not ever.”
    Landon looped his arm through hers. His voice was calmer but just as certain. “We wouldn’t consider it.”
    “I know.” The doctor dabbed beneath her eyes. “The road ahead will be marked with great joy as your baby grows and great sorrow. But I must say, even a short life can be very significant.”
    “Doctor.” Landon stopped short of interrupting the woman, but frustration sounded in his tone. “The test could be wrong . . . because all tests can be wrong. And if not, we’ll be praying that God will heal our daughter.”
    Dr. McDaniel opened her mouth to say something, but then she stopped herself. “I’ll be praying too.” She hesitated. “I’ll see you in two weeks.”
    Landon stood and shook her hand.
    Ashley watched him, her head spinning. Everything about the moment felt surreal, like something from a strange and horrible dream. She leaned into her husband, and he helped her to her feet.
    The moment they were outside the office, he inclined his head close to hers. “Are you okay? To walk, I mean?”
    “Yes.” Her eyes were dry. They’d been dry all this time. She steeled herself