"Both of you gave us a lifetime," Faith said softly. "The lifetimes were just too short."

She looked back at the front of the card and the tiny fetus curled in the center of the rose. It was cocooned and safe, protected by the defensive thorns.

"I wonder how Aaron felt when Kyra told him she was pregnant?" Faith thought. I guess I'll find out soon. She glanced at her watch. It was about time to head to Kyra's and the promised spaghetti dinner.

It was five minutes to six when Faith knocked on Kyra's apartment door. A shouted, "It's open," was her invitation into Kyra's life. She stepped into a crowded one-bedroom unit. Straight in front of her was a narrow table with two chairs shoved against the wall. Just beyond, she saw Kyra in the closet that doubled as a kitchen. A stove and refrigerator were on one side of the narrow divide where Kyra stood. The sink and cabinets were on the other.

"Hi," Kyra said with a grin. "Welcome to Nursing School Survival 101. When you've got a kid, a cramped apartment takes the place of cramped dorm rooms. Most of my peers live together in what they call 'nursing purgatory.'"

Her face was red from heat as she stood stirring a pot on the stove. Her blonde hair hung in damp tendrils. As Faith entered, Kyra took the spoon out of the pot and dropped it in the sink behind her. Grabbing the handle on a fridge that looked like it hailed from the 1980s, she swung the door into the kitchen opening, revealing a hodgepodge of childish drawings and scribbling.

"What'll it be?" she said. "I've got iced tea and water. You can put lemon and sugar in either one."

"Tea," Faith said.

As Kyra handed her the drink, Faith asked, "What can I do to help?"

"Stay out of the way," Kyra said, her grin taking the sting out of the terse statement. "As you can see, this is a one woman kitchen." She waved her hand toward the rest of the tiny apartment. "You wanted authenticity. Explore to your heart's content. It'll take you all of a minute – two tops."

Faith grinned back. "Maybe I can stretch it to five."

Sipping her tea, Faith moved into the living room. To her left, a large framed sheet of photo-covered tin dominated the wall behind a worn, faded couch that had probably once been a hunter green. Colorful throw pillows with beach scenes helped overcome its drab appearance. The curtains that covered the large windows to the right matched the pillows. A desk was centered under the windows. It held a computer. At the end of the desk, an entertainment center angled towards the table in front of the door, making a small entranceway behind it. A tiny TV sat on one shelf. A large stereo system, speakers, and stacks of CD's took up the remainder of the space.

Bookcases made from large cement blocks and colorfully painted boards lined the end of the apartment opposite the table. The top shelves were crowded with textbooks and a large number of volumes on abortion – both pro and con. The bottom shelf was haphazardly stuffed with children's books. A worn book lay on the floor in front. Faith smiled as she saw the title, "I'll Love You Forever."

She moved to study the picture collage held by magnets to the tin. A smiling Shandra dominated the space, but others framed the edge. Kyra in cap and gown stood with a middle-aged couple. Probably her parents, Faith thought. There were two older couples. Grandparents, she surmised. A hodgepodge of snapshots of peers straggled along the bottom. Tucked in a corner, Kyra stood in a formal. A tuxed beau had his arms around her. Neither of them smiled for the camera, their countenances far too serious for a prom shot. Faith held in her gasp. The hand holding her tea started to shake. "It was a younger version of her fiancée. His dark eyes seemed to hold the weight of the world."

"I wonder if that's when she told him," Faith thought. "At prom."

Faith set her drink on the wicker table at the end of the couch. She forced her eyes away from Aaron and back to Shandra.

"Shandra's a cutie," Faith called to Kyra. "Who keeps her while you lead your group?"

Kyra moved out of the kitchen with a bowl and salad fixings. As she started cutting tomatoes on a cutting board, she said, "Usually she goes with me. There's a playroom there manned by a volunteer. Several of my group have children. We offer childcare to make it easier for them to attend." She dumped the tomatoes in the bowl on top of the hand-torn lettuce and began to shred a carrot into the mix. "This week she's with her grandma on the ranch, though. My parents decided to retire young and raise miniature horses. She loves it out there. With kindergarten out for the week, Mama jumped at a chance to keep her."

Faith did the mental math. If Shandra was in kindergarten, she was too young to be Aaron's daughter. If she were his, she would be completing the first grade.

"Does her Dad ever take her?" Faith asked.

"Let's not talk about him." Kyra's voice took on an edge. "I'd rather not go there."

"Sure," Faith said. "Mind if I look at the bedroom?"

"I told you to explore to your heart's content." Kyra's voice returned to its accommodating tone. "It's a mess, but you said you wanted authenticity. If your character decides not to abort, you can paint a realistic picture of a single Mom in nursing school."

A three-quarter bed with a trundle pushed most of the way under stretched along the end wall about twelve feet to the right. A flowered duvet was tossed in a heap as though someone had just jumped out of bed. To the left were two sliding doors. One led to a tiny closet stuffed full of clothes, Kyra's on a top bar and Shandra's on a low bar. A shoe rack clung to the back of the door. The other led to a tiny bathroom with a shower, toilet, and sink. There was barely room to turn around. A bathroom organizer over the toilet held toiletries and makeup. On the back bedroom wall, just beyond the bathroom's door, were a child's desk and a box overflowing with toys. On the opposite wall were a couple of chest-of-drawers with clothes hanging out of half-closed drawers. Someone had painted flowers and butterflies on one dresser, while the other was adorned with horses.

Faith returned to the living room just as Kyra called, "Come and get it."

"Not much privacy," Faith observed.

"Not a bit," Kyra said as she served her plate. "I study after she's asleep. Bedtime is strictly observed around here."

"What do you do with Shandra when your school or work schedule doesn't jive with her school hours?"

"The church next to her school offers childcare for working Mom's. I can drop her off early or pick her up late, depending on my schedule. Believe it or not, they're open until midnight. I don't know what I'd do if I hadn't found it."

"How do you afford it?"

"There's a sliding scale, and poor Mom's like me can trade services for childcare."

"What kind of services?"

"Some of them work at the childcare on their days off. There's all kinds of things. One mom, who's studying graphic arts, designs flyers for the church. Some sort clothes for the clothes closet." She pushed her hair back from her face. "I facilitate an abortion recovery group."

Faith let out a low whistle. "So do you have to be a church member to do that?"

"Do what?" Kyra said. "Trade for services?"

"Be a facilitator," Faith answered.

"Naw," Kendra said. "You have to promise that you won't put God down, that sort of thing. You have to have a personal experience with the abortion issue. It can be your own, or you can have a family member or friend you helped through the process." She flashed her engaging grin. "You also have to be pro-life. They ask you what you believe, and an experienced facilitator trains you and sits in with you in the beginning."

Faith started to ask Kyra about her experience, but a feeling she couldn't put her finger on held her back. She didn't want to spook her, and she was starting to have a grudging admiration for this woman, despite the fact that she had aborted Aaron's child. Instead, she shoveled a forkful of spaghetti into her gaping mouth.

Kyra continued to talk.

"Even though you don't have to be a church member, I am one." Her eyes seemed to measure Faith as she made this announcement. "I wasn't when I started training to facilitate. I was kind of mad at God, but this church didn't condemn girls who had abortions. They gave them love and support. They told them God still loved them. They didn't pressure them in any way. When I asked why they didn't try to push God, my trainer told me, 'Honey, God knows how to do His own pushing. Most of these girls have put God in some kind of box. Once they let God out of the box and tell Him just what they feel, most of them are going to discover Him without us pushing.'"

"So how'd you get over your anger at God?"

"I talked back to Him," Kyra said simply. "I shouted at Him and cursed Him. When I was exhausted, this calm voice in my heart said, 'Is that it? Did you think I would send you to hell for getting mad at me?' Won't You? I asked." She absently twirled the spaghetti on her plate.

"He didn't send King David to hell, and he arranged to have a grown man killed," Kyra said. She looked at me. "I assume you know your Bible stories. I mean, you knew enough to ask if you had to be a church member to be a facilitator. People who don't have anything to do with churches wouldn't have a clue what membership is all about."

"Yeah," I know my Bible stories Faith said.

"Then I'm impressed that you don't know whether your character is going to have an abortion," Kyra said. "Most people who know their Bible have already decided that people from 'true' Christian homes don't do those kinds of things, only perverts. They forget that all the people in the Bible, the ones God loved and entrusted with His word, failed in some way. Why would we be any different?"

"They'd tell you it's because we know His Son," Faith voiced the 'church' answer.

"Well, that might hold water if all the New Testament characters were saints. But that just isn't so. Thomas was a doubter. Paul had no patience with Mark. Peter cut off someone's ear. They all had their character flaws. And they spent every day with Jesus."

"You have a point," Faith said.

"Forgiveness is what made David a great King and turned Peter into a fiery preacher," Kyra said. "Forgiveness is what the women in my group need. When they feel God's forgiveness, they learn to forgive themselves. And speaking of group, we'd better get out of here or we're going to be late."

Faith wondered if Kyra would forgive her if she ever found out who she really was.