By early October, she had to admit to the girls at work that she was pregnant. They had figured it out for themselves by then too, and they were excited for her, imagining that it was a last gift from her dead husband, a wonderful way of holding on to his memory forever. They had no way of knowing that it was Paul Browne's memory, someone whose eighteen-year-old wife was probably already pregnant by then too, and didn't care about this baby.

She couldn't tell them that she wanted to give the baby up, and they brought small gifts in to work for her, which always made her feel terribly guilty. She set them aside in a drawer in her room, and tried not to think about the baby that would wear them.

She also went to see Dr. MacLean again, and he was very pleased with her, and always asked about Tommy.

“Such a fine boy' he smiled, talking to her, sure that their mistake would have a happy outcome. They were both nice kids. She was a lovely girl, and he was sure that the Whittakers would adjust to it, and accept her once they knew about the baby. And it was mid-October when by sheer coincidence Liz Whittaker came in from school one day for her checkup. And then, before she left, he remembered to tell her what a fine boy her son was.

“Tommy?” She looked startled that he remembered him. The last time he had seen the boy was six years before when Annie was born, and he had stood outside the hospital and waved up at her window. “He is a good boy,” she agreed, sounding puzzled.

“You should be very proud,” he said knowingly, wanting to say more about the two young people who had impressed him so much, but he knew he couldn't. He had promised both of them he wouldn't.

“I am proud of him,” she said, distracted by her rush to get back to school, but on her way home later she thought about his comment again, and wondered if he'd run into Tommy somewhere. Maybe he had taught a class at school, or had a child in Tommy's class, and then she forgot about it.

But the following week, one of her colleagues said they had seen Tommy with a remarkably pretty girl, and casually mentioned that the girl looked extremely pregnant.

She was horrified when she heard about it, and then with a rush of terror, remembered Dr. MacLean's unexpected praise of Tommy. She thought about it all afternoon, and then decided to ask Tommy about it that night. But he didn't even come home until after midnight.

“Where have you been?” his mother asked in stern tones when he got in. She had been waiting up for him in the kitchen.

“Studying with some friends,” he answered, looking nervous.

“What friends?” She knew almost all of them, particularly now that she was teaching at the high school. “Who? I want to know their names.”

“Why?” Tommy suddenly looked very guarded, and when his father came into the room, he saw an odd look pass between his parents. The hostility between them had lessened a little bit since his mother had gone back to work, but the distance seemed greater than ever. Liz had said nothing to John about the girl someone had seen Tommy with, but he had heard them talking, and wondered what was going on. Lately, he had been increasingly aware of the fact that Tommy was literally never home, and coming home very late in the evening.

“What's up?” he asked Liz, not really looking worried. Tommy was a good boy, and he had never gotten into trouble. Maybe he had a girlfriend.

“I've been hearing some strange things about Tommy,” his mother said, looking concerned, “and I want to hear from him about it.” But as he looked at her, Tommy knew that she knew something.

'What kind of 'strange things?” John asked. It didn't sound like Tommy.

“Who's the girl you've been seeing?” his mother asked him bluntly, as his father sat down and watched them.

“Just a friend. No one special.” But it was a lie, and she sensed that. Maribeth was more than a friend to him. He was head over heels in love with her, trying to help her keep up with school, and deeply concerned about her baby.

But his mother didn't pull any punches. “Is she pregnant?” He looked as though she had leveled a blow to his diaphragm and his father looked as though he was going to fall out of his chair, as Liz stared at Tommy in the silence. “Well, is she?”

“I … no … I … gee, Mom … I don't know … I didn't …well … oh God …,” he agonized as he ran a hand through his hair and looked panicked. “I can explain. It's not what it looks like.”

“She's just fat?” his father asked hopefully, and Tommy looked rueful.

“Not exactly.”

“Oh my God,” his mother whispered.

“You'd better sit down,” John said to him, and Tommy sank into a chair, as Liz continued to stand and stare at him in horror.

“I can't believe this,” she said, in anguished tones. “She's pregnant …Tommy, what have you been doing?”

“I haven't been doing anything. We're just friends.

I … all right …we're more than that …but … oh Mom …you'd like her.”

Oh my God' his mother said again, and this time she sat down. “Who is she? And how did this happen?”

“The usual way, I guess,” Tommy added, looking bleak. “Her name is Maribeth. I met her this summer.”

“Why didn't you tell us?” But how could he tell them anything? They never talked to him anymore, or each other. Their family life had ended when Annie died, now they just drifted, like flotsam on a lonely ocean. “How pregnant is she?” his mother asked, as though that would make a difference.

“Six and a half months,” he said calmly. Maybe it was better that they knew after all. He had wanted to ask his mother to help her for a long time, and he had always thought she would like her. But now Liz looked even more horrified.

“Six and a half months? When did this start?” She tried desperately to count backwards, and was too upset to do it.

“When did what start?” Tommy looked confused. “I told you, I met her this summer. She only moved here in June. She works at a restaurant I go to.”

“When do you go to a restaurant?” His father looked even more confused than his mother.

“Lots of times. Mom never cooks anymore. She hasn't in months. I use some of my paper money to pay for dinner.”

“That's nice,” his father said tartly, glaring at his wife reproachfully, and then at his son again, in confusion. “How old is this girl?”

“Sixteen.”

“I don't understand,” his mother interrupted. “She moved here in June, and she's six and a half months pregnant …that means she got pregnant in March, or somewhere around then. You got her pregnant somewhere else, and she moved here? Where were you?” He hadn't gone anywhere that they knew of. But they also didn't know that he frequently went out to dinner, nor that he had a pregnant girlfriend. Six and a half months made the baby imminent. Liz trembled as she thought of it. What were they thinking of, and why hadn't he told them? But as she thought about it, she began to understand. They had all been so distant and so lost since Annie died, particularly she and John, no wonder Tommy had gotten himself into trouble. No one had been paying attention.

But Tommy had finally understood the nature of their questions. “I didn't get her pregnant, Mom. She got pregnant back home, in Onawa, and her father made her leave until after the baby. She went to live in a convent and she couldn't stand it, so she came here in June. And that's when I met her.”

“And you've been going out with her all this time? Why didn't you tell us?”

“I don't know,” he sighed, “I wanted to, because I really thought you'd like her, but I was afraid you wouldn't approve. She's wonderful, and she's all alone. She doesn't have anyone to help her.”

“Except you' His mother looked pained, but his father was relieved. “Which reminds me,” Liz asked as she began to unravel the story, “have you been taking her to Dr. MacLean?”

Tommy looked startled by her question. “Why? Did he say anything?” He shouldn't have, he had promised he wouldn't, but his mother shook her head as she watched him.

“He didn't really say anything. He just said what a nice boy you were, and I couldn't figure out how he remembered. It's been six years …and then one of the teachers saw you with her last week, and said she looked extremely pregnant.” She looked up at her sixteen-year-old son then, wondering if he intended to marry the girl, out of real emotion for her, or even just to be gallant. “What's she going to do with the baby?”

“She's not sure. She doesn't think she can take care of it. She wants to put it up for adoption. She thinks it's kinder to do that, for the baby's sake. She has this theory,” he wanted to explain it all to her at once, to make them love her as much as he did, “that some people pass through other people's lives just for a short time, like Annie, to bring a blessing or a gift of some kind …she feels that way about this baby, as though she's here to bring it into the world, but not to be in its life forever. She feels very strongly about it.”

“That's a very big decision for a young girl to make,” Liz said quietly, sorry for her, but worried about Tommy's obvious infatuation. “Where's her family?”

“They won't speak to her or let her come home until after she gives up the baby. Her father sounds like a real jerk, and her mother is scared of him. She's really on her own.”

“Except for you,” Liz said sadly. It was a terrible burden for him to bear, but John wasn't nearly as worried now that he knew it wasn't his baby.

“I'd like you to meet her, Mom.” She hesitated for a long time, not sure if she wanted to dignify the relationship by meeting her, or simply forbid him to see her. But that didn't seem fair to him, and she glanced silently at her husband. John shrugged, showing that he had no objection.

“Maybe we should.” In a funny way, she felt that they owed it to Tommy. If he thought so much of this girl, maybe she was worth meeting.

“She's desperate to go to school. I've been working with her every night, lending her my books, and giving her copies of everything we've done. She's way ahead of me by now, and she does a lot more papers and independent reading.”

“Why isn't she in school?” his mother asked, looking disapproving.

“She has to work. She can't go back to school till she goes home, after the baby.”

“And then what?” His mother was pressing him, and even Tommy didn't have all the answers. “What about you? Is this serious?”

He hesitated, not wanting to tell her everything, but he knew he had to. “Yeah, Mom …it's serious. I love her.”

His father looked suddenly panicked at his answer. “You're not going to marry her, are you? Or keep the kid? Tommy, at sixteen, you don't know what you're doing. It would be bad enough if the baby was yours, but it isn't. You don't have to do that”

“I know I don't,” he said, looking like a man as he answered his father. “I love her. I would marry her if she would, and keep the baby, but she doesn't want to do either one. She wants to go back to school, and college if she can. She thinks she can still live at home, but I'm not sure she can. I don't think her father will ever let her get an education, from the sound of it. But she doesn't want to marry anyone until she's gotten an education. She's not trying to pressure me, Dad. If I married her, I'd have to force her to do it.”

“Well, don't,” his father said, opening a beer, and taking a sip. The very idea of Tommy getting married at sixteen unnerved him.

“Don't do anything you'll regret later, Tommy,” his mother said, trying to sound calmer than she felt. But after all she'd heard, her hands were shaking. “You're both very young. You'll ruin your lives if you make a mistake. She's already made one mistake, don't compound it with another.”

“That's what Maribeth says. That's why she wants to give the baby up. She says keeping it would be just one more mistake that everyone would pay for.

I think she's wrong, I think she'll be sorry one day that she gave it up, but she thinks it deserves a better life than she can give it.”

“She's probably right,” his mother said sadly, unable to believe that there was anything sadder in life than giving up a baby, except maybe losing one, especially a child you'd loved. But giving up a baby you'd carried for nine months sounded like a nightmare. “There are lots of wonderful people out there, anxious to adopt …people who can't have children of their own, and would be very good to a baby.”

“I know.” He looked suddenly very tired. It was one-thirty in the morning, and they had been sitting in the kitchen for an hour and a half, discussing Maribeth's problem. “I just think it sounds so sad. And what will she have?”