Second group on its way, Abby wrote… and then, swallowing hard, Thanks for your help. The bubbles indicating typing appeared, then vanished, until, finally, the thumbs-up emoji floated over Abby’s last text.
All good, Abby told herself. Now it was just a matter of keeping an eye on Morgan and hoping that the girl was able to keep her secret.
At the hotel, Abby collected her room keys and went to her room, where she finally peeled off her cold, wet clothes, groaning as she stepped into the bliss of a hot shower. When she’d gotten all the dirt and blood and grease off her, when her toes and fingers were no longer numb and she was finally warm again, she dried off, got dressed, put her wet hair in a bun, and knocked on the door of the room that Lily and Morgan were sharing.
“Just a minute!” Morgan called faintly. When she opened the door, she was wearing an oversize tee shirt, enormous sweatpants, and a pair of fluffy white chenille socks. Her face looked wan; her eyes were red-rimmed.
“Hi,” she said, her voice just above a whisper, as her gaze darted left, then right.
“It’s just me,” Abby said. “My mom is keeping your mom busy for the rest of the afternoon, so you’ve got a few hours to yourself. I wanted to see how you were doing.”
Morgan’s shoulders slumped. “You know?”
“I know you had an appointment,” Abby said carefully. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
Morgan bowed her head. Her shoulders twitched in a tiny, almost invisible shrug, before she said, “Thank you.”
“I brought you a heating pad, and some snacks.” Abby raised the bag, and Morgan opened the door wide enough for Abby to step inside. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay,” Morgan said. “For now. I have to take two different medications. One today and one tomorrow. I already took the today stuff. I guess tomorrow is when it’ll… you know.” She took another breath. “Happen.”
“You’ve got Tylenol, right?” Abby asked. She nodded at the bag. “The heating pad should help. When my friend Marissa had an abortion, she said it helped her a lot.”
Morgan’s head jerked up, her gaze moving from the floor to Abby’s face. “Your friend had an abortion?”
Abby nodded. “Lots of women have abortions,” she said, thinking that Morgan might not know this, that, in her bubble, in her red state, she might never have met, or even heard about, a real-life woman who’d ended a pregnancy. At least, not one who’d be willing to talk about it.
“How was it for her?” Morgan’s fingers were tugging at the hem of her shirt and she was once again addressing the carpet. “Was she okay? After?”
“She said the cramps were pretty bad,” Abby said, not wanting to mislead Morgan about what she could expect. “But they only lasted a few hours. Then it was over. And she was fine. She said junk food and rom-coms helped.” Abby started pulling out the snacks she’d bought. “I’ve got sweet, I’ve got salty, I’ve got sour, and I’ve got chocolate. The four food groups!”
“I’m not very hungry.” Morgan licked her lips and swallowed again. “I just wish I was home. In my own bedroom. My own bed.”
Abby made a sympathetic sound, thinking about how she always felt safest in her own bed, barricaded behind a row of pillows. “Do you want me to stay with you for a while?”
“No thank you,” Morgan said. “I think I’m going to try to take a nap.” She gave Abby a quavering attempt at a smile. “I didn’t sleep much last night.”
“I understand,” Abby said. “How about tonight? My room has two beds, and you’re welcome to come hang out. We can watch movies.”
Morgan appeared to think it over before shaking her head. “Thank you. But I think I’ll be okay.”
Abby nodded, even as she thought that Morgan looked a long way from okay. “And I’m sure Andy would be happy to keep you company if you wanted.”
Morgan nodded, smiling faintly. “I think I need to stay away from boys for a little while.”
“You’ve got my phone number. I’ll be in my room, if you need me. And we’ll check tomorrow, and the next day. You probably won’t feel up to riding, so I’ll let Jasper know to expect you.” Abby paused. “What are you going to tell your mom?”
Morgan set the drugstore bag down on the bed and raked her fingers through her hair. “Just that it’s my period,” she said. “Which—maybe that’s kind of true.”