Lupi 04 - Night Season

when I saw the tester, I couldn’t believe it. What could God be thinking? I’ve got no fucking business raising a kid. I don’t want to raise a kid!”
    That truth slipped out and hung there between them: she didn’t want his child-to-be. Cynna felt queasy. She put her hand on her stomach. Something was growing in there right this second.
    â€œWhat are you going to do?” he repeated.
    His eyes burned into hers. No, they just seemed brighter than usual because all the color had been sucked from his face. She stared at him as, slowly, she understood what he meant. “Cullen, I’m Catholic. You know that. I mean, I’m pro-choice because everyone isn’t Catholic, so they should make their own decisions, but I’m Catholic.”
    â€œYou take the pill. You have sex when you want to. Those aren’t exactly Catholic beliefs. Are you saying that—”
    â€œYes. Yes, I am.” She took a step toward him. He was hurting. It had to be bad, because Cullen never let anyone see him hurt or afraid or vulnerable. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, but not abortion. That’s out.”
    His crutches clattered to the ground. He grabbed her and held on tight.
    Too tight. “Hey! I like to breathe!”
    â€œShut up.” But his arms loosened. He didn’t top her five-foot-ten by much; when he leaned his cheek against her hair, his breath stirred it. “You don’t make sense. I don’t understand you.”
    â€œMe, neither. But about this…see, if sex is a mistake, it’s one that just affects the adults making that decision. So maybe the Church is right, maybe I’m right, but whichever way it falls out, no biggie. But abortion…” Her voice trailed off. “We’re talking about babies here. Not that I think what’s inside me is a baby, not yet, but that’s where it’s headed, isn’t it? I’m not up to making that decision. I don’t understand enough about right and wrong. That’s one of the reasons I went to the Church in the first place—for help with the big decisions.”
    His voice was dry. “And the pill? Does that fall in the ‘no biggie’ category?”
    She snorted. “You may have noticed that the Pope’s a guy? Not married, not fooling around…I don’t see how he gets a vote.”
    â€œYou don’t buy the whole papal infallibility bit?”
    â€œSee, that’s a funny thing. Papal infallibility doesn’t mean popes are perfect or right about everything. Well, just look at the history of the Church—people being burned for witchcraft or put on the rack for saying the world was round? That’s not right. It’s more that they’re supposed to be right about what the Church teaches, and not everyone agrees when a particular teaching is infallible. The last one everyone is sure of was issued in 1952, about the assumption of Mary.”
    Cullen rested his hands at her waist and looked at her, a smile playing on his lips. He was amused, or wanted to be. “You’ve given this some study.”
    â€œIf you come to the Church as an adult, you have to think things over, understand what you’re agreeing to.” She grimaced. “Or not agreeing with. Father Jacobs says I’m a cafeteria Catholic.”
    His mouth crooked up. “Picking out the beliefs you like, leaving the others on the buffet?”
    She nodded. “But Father Michaels says that’s okay, as long as I keep thinking about the rest of it. Maybe I’m convinced I don’t like fish, or won’t care for the sauce it’s in, but I should try it sometime, you know?”
    â€œYou’ve got a priest. Two priests.” Cullen shook his head. “It boggles the brain.”
    â€œThat’s what Rule says, too. Is your foot okay? Can we walk some more?”
    He answered by bending to pick up his crutches. “You aren’t in this alone, you know.”
    By “this” he meant the pregnancy. The word made ripples in her. She started moving. “I get that.”
    â€œYou don’t have to raise the child. You could give it to me.”
    Not ripples this time—big, dizzy waves. “I’m not ready to decide. I’m barely able to say…to say ‘pregnant.’ I can’t make decisions yet.”
    â€œJust so you know that option is part of this particular buffet.”
    She