Chapter 8

Into Each Life

Whenever a little snow falls in the District the entire metropolitan area is tied up, especially public transportation. The commuter train was late, so he stopped in at McGillicuddy’s to decide whether to walk home as usual or to call a cab.

Dan Rapaport favored scotch, but he was happy to drink beer when sitting with Ben Schaefer, someone Dan had known since his dad and Ben were friends. As they chatted about the weather, Dan wondered what brought Ben out on such an evening. Ben said he dropped in at the bar more and more since he was widowed and, beside, walking in the snow was one of those oddball pursuits he seemed to enjoy. And there were old friends, usually, at McGillicuddy’s. Dan thought back on his life with Fran. Theirs had been a good life. They married young but had finished their educations. They loved the family they had started early on. They enjoyed seeing Jill, Sandy and Joel growing up. Jill was a senior at Maplewood High anticipating going to a good college.

As their small talk turned to college football’s top 25 and the approaching bowl games, Dan’s cell rang. Fran wasn’t worried about the weather but her voice indicated worry as she urged him to hurry home. Dan didn’t argue, knowing her too well. He quickly finished his beer, wished Ben well and went outside looking for a cab. Finding none, he hurried home on foot.


Fran, a stay-at-home mom, usually was in the kitchen when Dan opened the front door. This evening she met him. Unusual. A bad sign.

“Sit down Dan.” His concerned deepened.

“What’s up?”

“I’m not sure how to start. …maybe I should just come to the point.”

“Yeah, please.”

“Jill is pregnant. I just found out.”

Dan was silent. A father’s worst fear --- an unwed teen-ager pregnant. Such a situation had crossed his mind in the past, but something he never expected to come to pass. He always brushed it aside. Yet, that catastrophe having happened, he was not entirely surprised. Sometimes when the unexpected happens it seems as though it should have been expected. All sort of realities raced through his mind, like a novel’s plot that strikes home.

“When did she tell you? How did you find out? Who’s the father? What the hell happened? What did I do wrong?” His thoughts came out in rather slow, rhythmic staccato.

“This afternoon. She didn’t actually tell me. I found a pregnancy test box under her bed as I was straightening up her room.”

“Did you confront her?”

“When she came home. I showed her the box and she put her arms around me and started to cry.”



Dinner was quiet that night. Sandy and Joel arrived at the table late. Jill reluctantly arrived even later. Fran had already said grace; Dan bowed his head as usual without saying the prayer. Normally, family problems were brought up at dinner and discussed in what might be described as a civilized manner. Tonight Topic A was skirted. Did Jill’s siblings know, Dan wondered. Fran wondered, too. Small talk revolved around the snow.

“Well, you might as well know,” Jill blurted out. “I’m pregnant.”

Sandy and Joel did not know. The brothers were old enough to understand; they were not old enough to come up with either a sympathetic reaction or condemnation. They just sat there, fidgeted a little, appeared somewhat embarrassed, maybe smirked a bit. Sandy asked to be excused and Joel played with his pudding before leaving.

Jill got up to go, but her parents told her to stay. The questioning began. The name of classmate and steady date Bill Glennon came up.

“Were there any others?” Dan asked.

“No, no Dad. What do you think ---- I’m a tramp?”

“So the father is Bill?”

Jill’s silence confirmed that.

“When is the due date?” Fran asked.

“Eight months or so,” said Jill.

“We’ll figure it out. We have to decide what to do about school. In the old days girls in trouble were sent off until the baby could be born and then adopted. I seem to remember some order of nuns that had such places.”

“Please, Mom. How are you going to help?”

“Your father and I will help you all we can, you know that.”



Bill was not happy when he heard from Jill how her parents had reacted. Bill’s own first reaction was just short of pride at what he had done and then turned to reality. He was not prepared to assume the duties and responsibilities he had usurped without wishing for those burdens. The enormity of their indiscretion hit both of them hard, but especially it was, to Bill, like his first fight as a kid when the bully’s first smashed into his nose and blood splashed all over his shirt. That blow taught him a tough lesson. Knowing what he had done to Jill came thundering back to his mind as a blow he was unprepared to parry much less accept. What to do? He didn’t want the responsibility. Marriage didn’t even enter his mind as it might have happened had the century had a lower number. His thoughts were about him, as they had been when their relationship was consummated. There was no honor here.

Jill experienced some stirrings of maternity. She also wondered how motherhood would change her life, a life that certainly seemed normal to her peers. Her friends would be understanding, probably exchange their experiences, offer advice, try to give comfort. All sorts of scenes ran through her mind. Some might even suggest abortion. Jill tried to shake off that thought.

Bill did not when his friends suggested that after finding out.


“A guy told me that you can get rid of this problem,” Bill started.

“Who? What?” Jill asked.

“You know.”

“No I don’t. What are you suggesting?”

“Well .. . you can get rid of it.”

“Abortion?”

“Well --- yeah.”


For days Jill was depressed. Her original euphoria upon learning of her condition had turned around, especially after her talk with Bill. She thought Bill was completely unsympathetic, completely different than she had anticipated. She was down as she entered the community library to work on a paper she know she had to complete. She avoided the school library because she was trying not to see too many of her friends. Molly Gilliam noticed Jill and decided to say hello.

Molly had been teaching CCD classes for teen-agers who did not attend Catholic high school. She had been reunited with Casey after the accountant had recovered his life and his career with the help of Father Utermollen of St. Matthias. Casey had persuaded Molly to start over and move to Maplewood. She sold the house that he had put in her name. Since they had never divorced, getting back together was legally easy, but renewing their marriage took a little time. The children had grown up and alienated regarding their father. Nonetheless, the Gilliam family slowly moved toward stability after Casey was able to return to his profession with a lesser intensity and a greater emphasis to home duties. He had no partnership; he did have a good job, however. And, he did the St. Matthias books pro bono in gratitude to the priest that helped him scramble out of the gutter.

Molly somehow knew something bothered Jill. Her maternal experience no doubt explained that. Jill was reluctant to share her secret with Mrs. Gilliam, someone Jill had admired as a teacher and a person. After some stilted small talk, Molly was about to leave when Jill began to weep. She put her arm about Jill and asked if she wished to step outside. Once there, Jill’s tears ran heavy and her sobs became louder. Minutes passed before Jill could speak.

“Bill wants me to have an abortion.”

So that was it. Molly knew why Jill cried. Now she had to find words that would help her. Not an easy task. She knew the message; she had touched on it in her religion class. But she had to find a way to say it that would convey true concern and not churchy preaching. For the first time Molly had to deliver a message that needed to be accepted ---- for the sake of a real human being. Two human beings.

Molly found out how far along Jill was. She learned the girl was leaning toward giving birth. She ascertained that Jill thought she loved Bill enough to marry him and submitted because of that. Molly also figured out that Bill was no better than most males who took advantage of female feelings. As a whole, the situation appeared favorable to saving the life in Jill’s womb.

“Jill, you feel love for your child?”

Jill remained silent and her mind started to race. She was thinking pregnancy; she had not been thinking “child.” She knew, intellectually, of course. But she started thinking of pink and blue booties, little dresses, cribs, diapers. She saw an infant smile, little toes and fingers, little gurgles, little laughs, baby smiles.

Molly had a sister who stayed in Joliet, a woman with especial charisma with her children and others. That would be a good place for Jill to stay until her baby arrived and she decided to become a single mother or put the child up for adoption. Any such move would require the consent of the Rapaports. But what to do about Bill? He could be ignored. Doing so, Molly thought, would do nothing to change his mind about responsibility. More girls could be seduced. It was not for Molly to interject herself, but she believed something had to be done.

Jill got returned home from the library. She told Fran about her talk with Mrs. Gilliam. Fran was relieved. Later Fran and Dan discussed it with Jill and called Molly to come to dinner with her husband and to discuss her idea of sending Jill to Illinois. Dan decided to confront Bill.

Bill sheepishly agreed to meet Dan at a McDonalds on the other side of town. Dan ordered Bill’s choice of two Big Macs and a large chocolate shake, and fries, of course. Dan had a coffee. At a table in the rear the two looked at each other for a while until Dan asked what Bill thought of fatherhood. Bill allowed that he had not thought about that until recently, and he didn’t think he would make a good father. Dan asked if he wanted Jill to abort the child and Bill hesitated, then barely looked up and nodded.

“Do you know that since Roe v. Wade in the early 70s about forty million babies have been aborted? That’s nearly seven times more than the Jews who were gassed by Hitler. All those human lives! Human lives. Just think of that: men, women, children killed out of hate, just as my grandparents were. But those 40 million --- they have been killed mostly for convenience. Does that bother you, Bill?”

Bill took another bite of his burger, but it didn’t feel like food, it felt like a dry lump. He put it down. Looked puzzled. Dan’s comparison did not quite click, but somewhere he had heard of the Holocaust. He didn’t really connect pregnancy and human life. He did feel discomfort.

“You have brothers, sisters?”

Dan shook his head. He had always wished he did have siblings.

“You’re not familiar with little kids, babies, right?”

No answer, but one was obvious.

“Well you’re not going to get to know your kid, either. Your child will be born in another state. You probably will never see it. You won’t get to know the wonder in holding your son or daughter. That’s a shame, because you don’t show the humanity that parenthood deserves. Maybe you don’t know the value of life. If you did, you wouldn’t have suggest doing away with a life you helped form. There was life from the very moment . . .” Dan broke off. He couldn’t bring himself to picture that union.

“Look, I can’t blame you alone. Jill had something to do with it. But I feel sorry for you because you don’t seem to understand the value of life, the ideal of sticking by the rules, the selfishness of trying to avoid the consequences of your acts. I guess I can’t change you, even though as Jill’s father I think I have a right to try. But for your own sake, for your own good, you’d better think a lot about what you helped bring about --- a human being, a breathing life, a baby. That should mean something to you. It should help you grown up. I pray God you see that, someday anyway.”

Dan didn’t look back as he left. Bill didn’t look up. His head hung.