She ran away. Took up and left. Abandoning a messy situation. Gossip, shame, fingers pointing. Family in disarray, relationship up in the air and looking like it was on its last legs. Not good, not good at all. So she got out. She didn’t ask for this, and never expected it to be so hard.
Where could she go? Well, Liz is a tough cookie. She’s been around the block a few times. She won’t judge, she’ll understand, be a listening ear and a supportive shoulder.
Two shocks as she gets close and sees her cousin come running. First, she’s not running, more waddling really. She’s changed, put on a few pounds. No. She’s… you’re kidding! Really???? Pregnant? Really? And then the other shock. Liz stops. Blinks twice, laughs, brushes a tear and says something she should not have known. She talks about Mary’s secret baby. Tells her it’s okay. It’s God’s plan. She’s not mad. She’s not out of control. Her life is not falling apart. Liz does what no one else could. She tells Mary to keep going. And more than that. She lets her stay. Escape. Gives her room to recover and breathe.
So she spends a few months there and they swap stories of pregnancy and its various trials and unexpected experiences. She watches as the local women help her cousin give birth. Sees the baby boy fight his way out into life, and scream the place down. Sees the wonder, the joy and the teary-eyed amazement. Imagines how it might be for her. And so, as the new mother nurses her child, she packs her bag and leaves, but doesn’t keep running, she goes home. To face the music, the family, the boyfriend and the talk of the town. This is the start of something big.