“You'll be all right, won't you, babe?” He sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her, desperate for some reassurance from her now, and she smiled sadly and reached a hand out for his.

“I'll have to be, I guess, won't I?” And then she smiled again, almost mysteriously. “You know what I wish?” They both knew that, that he weren't going to war. She read his thoughts, and kissed his fingertips. “Aside from that … I hope you got me pregnant this week.…”In the emotions of the past few days, they had thrown caution to the winds. He had been aware of it, but there had been so much else going on. He had just hoped that it wasn't her dangerous time. But he wondered now, as he looked at her. They had been so careful about that for the past year, they had agreed from the first that they didn't want babies for a while, at least not for the first few years until they both got better jobs, or maybe Andy went back to college for another two years. They were in no hurry, they were both young, but now … in the past week, their whole life had turned upside down.

“I kind of wondered what was happening this week.… Do you think you could have … ?” He looked worried. That hadn't been what he wanted at all. He didn't want her to be pregnant alone, with him God knows where, at war.

She shrugged. “I might.…” And then she smiled again and sat up. “I'll let you know.”

“Great. That's all we need.” He looked suddenly upset, and then glanced nervously at the bedside clock. It was ten after four. He had to go.

“Maybe it is.” And then suddenly, as though she had to tell him before he left, “I meant what I said just now, Andy. I'd like that a lot.”

“Now?” He looked shocked and she nodded her head, her voice a whisper in the tiny room.

“Yes.”





And in the last few months she'd had plenty of time to turn their bedroom into a nursery for the baby. She had sewn everything herself in white eyelet with yellow ribbons, sewing and knitting, and making little hats and booties and sweaters. She had even painted pretty little murals on the baby's walls and clouds on the ceiling, although one of her neighbors had given her hell when he found out that she was doing the painting herself and standing on the ladder. But she had nothing else to do now that she wasn't working. She had saved every penny she could, and she wouldn't even go to a movie now, for fear of eating into those savings, and she was receiving part of Andy's paycheck from the army. She was going to need everything she had for the baby, and she was going to stay home for the first few months if she could, and after that she'd have to find a sitter and go back to work. She was hoping that elderly Mrs. Weissman on the fourth floor would baby-sit for her. She was a warm, grandmotherly woman who had lived in the building for years, and had been excited to hear about Jean's baby. She checked on her every day, and sometimes she would even come down late at night, unable to sleep herself in the heat, and tap on Jean's door, if she saw a light beneath it.