just as Scott rumbled through the door, winding down what I guessed must have been a very long ramble: ... out-of-touch politicians ...

... the #!*#@economy ...

... the next round of layoffs ...

... the boss's decision to scale back raises and Christmas bonuses, despite signing off on his own 20% pay hike ...

So much for ho-ho-ho.

So much for confessions.

So much for answers.

And then Mom made the mistake of turning on the radio as a weather forecaster announced we could expect snow, and enough of it for the ski resorts to enjoy a lucrative Thanksgiving.

Scott went off again.

Just @!$%#@! perfect, with the Jeep in the shop and the Subaru needing tires.

November snow!

Can you imagine a worse omen?

Omens! Great!

I wasn't about to try and dissuade the Powers-That-Be.

I still needed answers, however.

I picked up the phone, went into my room, and made a few calls.

The first was to Dad. Not sure why.

Got his answering machine: Me and Linda Sue were feeling blue, so we went to Mexico.

Leave your number.

I'm getting a hummer.

Linda Sue? Was she from Kentucky?

No doubt "Miss Louisville" paid for their trip.

But did the world have to know they had oral s.e.x?

And who made Dad a (very bad) poet?

On a crazy whim, I called Adam next.

Guess who was whining in the background.

Kristina? [Momento, Lince. I'll be right there.]

Well, yeah, we're hangin' out pretty steady.

In fact-you won't believe this- I'm going to be a daddy next summer.

Oh, yeah, I believed it all right.

Apparently, though Lince still lacked feeling in one arm, other parts felt plenty.

So much for Giselle. So much for summer visits.

I muttered congratulations and hung up without sharing my own "good news."

I Thought About Calling Leigh

but figured she'd tell Mom, "for my own good."

I called Robyn instead.

"So I've got this friend who just found out she's pregnant ..."

Total b.u.mmer. How far gone are y-I mean ... is she?

"Six weeks. She's too scared to tell her parents...."

No doubt. What about the father?

Does he know?

"No. And she's not going to tell him. He's a real a-hole."

No help from the father, no help from her parents? Only one answer.

"You mean abortion. What about adoption?"

Let me tell you a little story about what happened to a friend of mine....

Seems Robyn's friend chose adoption, then saw her baby and changed her mind.

"I don't see what's so awful about that!"

Ask the adoptive parents. I'd tell you to ask the baby, but you can't.

Seems Robyn's friend wasn't really ready to be a mommy.

"So ... what? She gave the baby up for adoption, after all?"

She went on a three-day bender. The baby's crying drove her nut buckets.

Seems, arm in arm with the monster, Mommy shut the baby up.

For good.

Snow Began to

Snow Day

No plows, no buses, no school, nothing to do but fret.

I picked up the newspaper.

There, headlining Local News: MAJOR DRUG BUST.

with a picture of Roberto in a sporty pair of cuffs, followed by a daunting expose- La Eme and the crank epidemic.

Plus, in Sierra Living a complementary piece outlining the horrors of meth: How it eats big holes in the brain, destroys the pleasure center. How it shows up in X rays as big black dead spots spoiling gray matter.

How quitting is next to impossible and even those users who suffer through often never recover completely.

Footnote: Possible pregnancy complications crank baby birth defects health and behavior abnormalities.

Too Much

to think about.

Too much to bear.

And time was running short.

I knew I couldn't marry Chase.

I knew he would stand by me.

But he deserved his dreams.

I feared closing that door.

I feared the uncertainty of choosing parenthood.

I doubted I could give my baby away.

I doubted more I could raise it on my own-with or without defect.

I needed a solid dose of courage.

I needed the strength only the monster could give me.

I regretted my weakness as I inhaled.

I regretted making the decision to snuff out my baby's life.

I Needed Two Things