Her mother had suspected that Kate wasn't madly in love with Andy when she'd agreed to marry him, and it didn't worry her at all. She had said something to Kate about it during one of the fittings and told her that passion of the kind she'd had for Joe was a dangerous thing. If you let it, it owned and controlled you. She would be better off, her mother assured her, married to her best friend, and Andy was.

Their honeymoon was everything it should have been. They had romantic dinners at Maxim's and little bistros on the Left Bank, explored the Louvre, did lots of shopping, and went for long walks along the Seine. It was the perfect time, the perfect season, the weather was warm and sunny, and Kate realized she had never been happier in her life. And Andy was proving to be a gentle and skilled lover. By the time they got to Venice, she felt as though they had been married for years. He suspected by then that she hadn't been a virgin, but he never asked her about it. He preferred not knowing, and he didn't like asking her about things that reminded her of Joe. He sensed more than knew that it was still a sore subject, and suspected that it would be for a very long time. But she was his now, and no longer Joe's.

Venice was even more romantic than Paris, if that was possible. They ate delicious food, drifted around looking at the sights in a gondola Andy had hired, and they kissed for good luck as they passed under the Bridge of Sighs.

They went back to Paris for one night, and then flew back to New York. They had been gone for three weeks and it was the perfect honeymoon. They came home happy and relaxed and bonded to each other. And they were looking forward to a long and happy life.

Andy went back to work the day after they got back from Paris, and Kate got up to cook him breakfast. He showered and shaved and dressed, and when he walked into the kitchen, she had a bowl of cornflakes on the table and a bottle of scotch.

“Darling, you remembered!” he said, throwing his arms around her in movie star fashion, and then crunched a mouthful of cornflakes and downed a shot of scotch. He was a good sport and a nice person and had a warm and funny sense of humor. And best of all, he was crazy about her. “My father's going to think you've turned me into an alcoholic, if I go to work smelling of scotch. We've got meetings all day.”

He left for work and she stayed home to tidy up the apartment. She had given up her job at the museum the month before the wedding. Andy didn't want her to work, and at the time she had too much to do. But now she had nothing whatsoever to occupy her until he came home from the office in the late afternoon. And when he did, she was so bored that she dragged him into bed, and then suggested they go out to dinner, even when Andy was tired. She didn't know what to do with herself all day. She talked to him about going back to work, she had no idea what to do to keep occupied. Married life left her with too much time on her hands.

“Go shopping, go to museums, have fun, have lunch with friends,” he told her, but her friends were all either working or in the suburbs with their kids. She felt like the odd man out.

They had talked about getting a bigger apartment, but they both liked Andy's and for the time being it was fine. It had two bedrooms, so even if they had a baby, there would be enough room for all of them.

Three weeks after they got back from Europe, Kate smiled at him shyly over dinner, and told Andy she had news for him. He imagined she had done something fun that day, or talked to her mother or one of her friends. He was startled when instead she told him she was sure she was pregnant. They had only been married for six weeks, and she thought it might have happened the day after their wedding, the first time they made love.

“Did you go to a doctor?” He looked both thrilled and worried, cleared the table for her, insisted that she take it easy, and asked her if she felt sick or wanted to lie down, and Kate laughed.

“No, I didn't go to the doctor yet, but I'm sure.” She had felt this way before, five years before with Joe's baby, but she couldn't tell Andy that, and wouldn't have. “And it's not a terminal illness, for Heaven's sake, I'm fine.”

He made love to her ever so gently that night, afraid to do anything that might hurt her or the baby, insisted that she go to the doctor as soon as she could arrange it, and was disappointed when she wouldn't let him tell their parents yet.

“Why not, Kate?” He wanted to shout it from the roof, which she thought was sweet. He was even more excited than she was, and she was pleased. She wanted a baby, it was one reason she had left Joe after all, and this would be a further bond between her and Andy. This was what she had wanted, a real married life. And yet at the same time, with all the happiness she felt, and love she felt for Andy, there was always an empty space in her that she could never quite fill, despite all her efforts. She knew what it was, but not how to cure it. It was Joe. All she could hope was that the baby would fill the immeasurable void Joe had left in her.

“What if I lose it?” she said sensibly in answer to her husband's question. “It would be awful if everyone already knew.”

“Why would you lose it?” He looked puzzled. “Do you feel like something's wrong?” The possibility hadn't even occurred to him.

“Of course not,” she said, looking happy. “I just want to be sure that everything's all right. They say there's always a risk of miscarriage in the first three months.” Particularly if you got hit by a boy on a bike. Andy had never heard about the first three months being sensitive before.

Kate went to the doctor a few days later, and he told her that everything was fine. She told him, in confidence, about the miscarriage she'd had five years before, and he was disturbed that she hadn't had medical attention, but he felt it was an isolated incident, not due to any weakness on her part, but because she'd been hit by the bike. He told her to be sensible, rest, eat well, and not to do anything foolish like ride horses or skip rope, which made her laugh. And he sent her home with vitamins and some written instructions to share with her husband, and told her to come back to see him in a month. The baby was due in early March.

And as she walked home to their apartment, she strolled along the edge of Central Park, thinking how lucky she was. She was happy, loved, married, had a great husband, and she was having a baby. All her dreams had come true, and she knew finally that she had done the right thing when she married Andy. They were going to have a great life.

They told her parents about the baby finally when they went to stay with them for a week at the end of August, in Cape Cod. Her mother was beside herself with excitement, and her father was pleased for them.

“I told you he'd be perfect for her,” Elizabeth beamed at her husband after Kate and Andy went back to New York.

“Why? Because he got her pregnant?” Clarke teased her. He had been fond of Joe, but he agreed with her, Andy was the right husband for Kate, and he was happy for them.

“No, because he's a good man. And having a baby will do her a world of good. It'll ground her and settle her down, and make her feel closer to him.”

“And give her lots of work!” Clarke laughed. But she had nothing else to do. She was ready for a family. She was twenty-six years old, which was certainly old enough, and older than most of her friends when they'd had their first babies. Most of the girls she'd gone to school with already had two or three. There had been a wave of young people who'd gotten married right after the war, and were having babies every year to make up for lost time. Compared to them, and those who had gotten married before the war, Kate was off to a late start.

Kate felt well during her entire pregnancy And by Christmas, Andy said she looked like a balloon. She was nearly seven months pregnant, and she herself thought she was huge. She hadn't gained weight anywhere, it seemed, except around the baby, the rest of her looked elegant and thin. She went for long walks every day, slept a lot, ate well, and was the picture of good health. There was only one small scare on New Year's Eve. They went dancing with friends at El Morocco, they had an active social life these days, mostly with friends of Andy's, or people he met through work, and when they got home at two o'clock in the morning, she started having contractions. She felt guilty because she'd danced a lot and had several glasses of champagne. Andy called the doctor and he told them to come to the hospital right away, and when he checked her, the doctor told her he wanted her to stay for the rest of the night, just to make sure she didn't go into labor. Kate looked terrified, and Andy said he'd spend the night with her, and one of the nurses set up a cot for him next to her bed.

“How do you feel, Kate?” he asked as they lay there, she on the comfortable hospital bed, and he on the narrow cot beside her.

“Scared,” she said honestly. “What if I have the baby early?”

“You won't, I think you just overdid it a little. I think it was that last mambo that did you in.” She guffawed, and he grinned.

“That was fun,” they always had a good time together, and he was so good to her.

“Apparently, the baby didn't think so. Or maybe he did.”

“What if something happens and we lose the baby?” She rolled over on her side to look at him, and he reached up and took her hand and held it in his.

“What if you stop worrying for a few minutes? How about that?” And then he asked her something she hadn't been prepared for. He had been wondering about it for a while. “Why do you worry so much about losing the baby?” He met her eyes squarely with his. His were the color of melted chocolate, his dark hair was tousled, and he looked very handsome as he lay on the cot, looking up at her.