The Weighty Choice
As she walked through the park, Evelyn climbed the footbridge and suddenly paused, leaning against the railing to peer down. The river below was dark and coldperhaps not deep, but the thought of falling sent a shiver through her. Startled by her own mind, she hurried on.
She was returning from her friend Sophies, where she had spent the night after fleeing home during a terrible row. Sophies mother, Mrs. Whitmore, had welcomed her warmly without prying.
«Come in, love, Sophies in her room,» shed said, though Evelyns distressed state spoke volumes. Mrs. Whitmore knew better than to ask. She fed the girls supper, served tea with biscuits, and sent them to bed. The next day, Evelyn decided to return home, not wanting to overstay her welcome.
«Thank you, Aunt Margaret,» she murmured. «Id best go backmy parents will be worried.»
Crossing the bridge, Evelyn noticed a small churchstrange, she hadnt paid it any mind before. Compelled by something within, she stepped inside.
A quiet service was underway, the pews sparsely filled. Evelyn moved forward, gazing at the stained glass where a young woman cradled an infant. She couldnt look away.
«Dont think twice, dear,» whispered an elderly woman beside her. «Have the babe. All will be well.»
Evelyn startled. «How did you know?»
«Love, Ive lived long enough to see what weighs on a soul,» the woman smiled. «Trust me, you shant regret it. Many a lass has stood where you stand now.»
The vicars voice murmured prayers as the woman crossed herself. Evelyn lingered before heading home, resolve hardening.
The day before, after lectures, Evelyn and Sophie had sat on a park bench, dreading the storm awaiting her.
«What will you do?» Sophie pressed. «Have you told Andrew?»
Evelyns mind was a fog. She was only in her second year at universityhow could this happen?
«Mother will kill me,» she whispered. «Andrew said he wasnt readytold me not to ring him again. After all these years, since secondary school»
Sophie cursed Andrews betrayal.
«Your mum will rage, of course,» she faltered, recalling Evelyns strict mother, Beatrice. «But what do *you* want?»
«What choice have I?» Evelyn wiped a tear. «Im barely scraping by as it is.»
That evening, the house erupted.
«How could you?» Beatrice shrieked. «Your studieswere you not careful? This ends now!»
«Beatrice, think what youre saying,» her father, George, interjected.
«Stay out of this!» she snapped. «Wholl want her with a child? No education, no prospectsI wont have it!»
«And what of us?» George countered. «Well help raise our grandchild.»
«Youll be at work while *I* drown in nappies!» Beatrice hissed before storming outto her long-secret lover, as George would soon discover.
Evelyn returned home to silence. Her father glanced up from his paper.
«Youre back,» Beatrice muttered from the kitchen.
«Welcome home, love,» George said softly. «Were you at Sophies?»
«Yes.»
Evelyn stood firm. «Im keeping the baby. My minds made up.» The words hung, unchallenged.
Time passed. One afternoon, Andrews mother, Mrs. Hart, approached them in the park.
«Evelyn, might we talk?»
Sophie excused herself. Mrs. Hart sat beside her.
«I know about the baby. Sophie told merightly so. Please, keep it. Ill help in every way.»
Evelyn blinked.
«My sons a coward,» Mrs. Hart admitted. «But this childmy only grandchild. Let me be there.»
Little Timothy arrived rosy-cheeked and smiling. George doted on him; Mrs. Hart visited often. Beatrice, however, vanished entirely.
Years rolled by. Evelyn graduated, Timothy started school. Then one evening, she confessed to her father:
«Papa, Im seeing Oliverfrom work. Hes wonderful.»
«Bring him round, then,» George said.
Oliver, tall and kind, shook Georges hand. «Pleased to meet you, sir.»
To Evelyns delight, they spoke for hourssame alma mater, shared interests.
«Hes a good man,» George said later. «And Timothy adores him.»
Soon, Timothy had a father, and George, a son-in-law. Mrs. Hart, though fearing distance, remained a beloved grandmother.
One evening, walking with Oliver and Timothy, Evelynnow round with a daughtersmiled.
That old woman in the church had been right. No one ever regretted choosing life.
And Evelyn, cradling her happiness, knew it to be true.
