“That's going to be hard on you,” Liz said sympathetically, “working right up until the end. I did that when Tommy was born, and I thought I'd have him right in the classroom. I took a lot more time before Annie,” she said, and then there was sudden silence at the table. She looked up at Maribeth then, and the young girl met her eyes squarely. “I suppose Tommy has told you about his sister,” she said softly.

Maribeth nodded, and her eyes were filled with her love for him, and her sympathy for his parents. Annie was so real to her, she had heard so many stories, and dreamt of her so many times that she almost felt as though she knew her. “Yes, he did' Maribeth said softly, “she must have been a very special little girl.”

“She was,” Liz agreed, looking devastated, and then quietly, John reached his hand to her across the table. He just touched her fingers with his own, and Liz looked up in surprise. It was the first time he had ever done that. “I suppose all children are,” she went on, “yours will be too. Children are a wonderful blessing.” Maribeth didn't answer her, and Tommy glanced up at her, knowing the conflict she felt about the baby.

They talked about Tommy's next football game then, and Maribeth wished silently that she could join them.

They chatted for a long time, about Maribeth's hometown, her schooling, the time she had spent that summer at the lake with Tommy. They talked of many things, but not her relationship with their son, and not her baby. And at ten o'clock, Tommy finally drove her home, she kissed both his parents goodbye before she left, and once they were in the truck, she heaved a sigh of relief and lay back against the seat as though she was exhausted.

“How was I? Did they hate me?” He looked touched that she would even ask, and leaned over to kiss her ever so gently.

“You were wonderful, and they loved you. Why do you think my mother offered to help you with your work?” He was enormously relieved. His parents had been a lot more than polite, they were downright friendly. In fact, they had been very impressed with her, and as John helped Liz do the dishes once they'd left, he complimented Maribeth on her bright mind and good manners.

“She's quite a girl, don't you think, Liz? It's such a damn shame she's gone and done this to herself.” He shook his head and dried a dish. It was the first dinner he'd enjoyed as much in months, and he was pleased that Liz had made the effort.

“She didn't exactly do it to herself,” Liz said with a small smile. But she had to admit he was right. She was a lovely girl, and she said as much to Tommy when he came back half an hour later. He had walked Maribeth to her room, he kissed her and could see that she was really tired and her back had been aching. It was a long day for her, and in the past couple of days she had begun to feel uncomfortable and awkward.

“I like your friend,” Liz said quietly as she put the last dish away. John had just lit a pipe, and nodded as Tommy came in, to indicate his agreement.

“She liked you too. I think it's been really lonely for her, and she misses her parents and her little sister. They don't sound like much to me, but I guess she's used to them. Her father sounds like a real tyrant, and she says her mother never stands up to him, but I think it's really hard for her being cut off. Her mother has written to her a couple of times, but apparently her father won't even read her letters. And they won't let her communicate with her sister. Seems kind of dumb to me,” he said, looking annoyed, and his mother watched his eyes. It was easy to see how much he loved her, and he was anxious to protect her.

“Families make foolish decisions sometimes,” his mother said, feeling sorry for her. “I would think this will hurt them for a long time, maybe forever.”

“She says she wants to go back and finish school, and then move to Chicago. She says she wants to go to college there.”

“Why not here?” his father suggested, and Liz looked surprised at the ease with which he said it. It was a college town, and it was a very good school, if she could get a scholarship, and if she wanted to, Liz could help her with her application.

“I never thought of it, and I'm not sure she did either,” Tommy said, looking pleased. “I'll talk to her about it, but I think right now, she's mostly worried about the baby. She's kind of scared. I don't think she knows what to expect. Maybe,” he looked hesitantly at Liz, glad that the two women had met. “Maybe you could talk to her, Mom. She really doesn't have anyone else except me to talk to, and the other waitresses at Jimmy D's. And most of the time, I think they just scare her.” From the little Tommy knew about what she'd be going through, it scared him too. The entire process sounded really awful.

“Ill talk to her,” Liz said gently, and a little while later they all went to bed. And as Liz lay next to John, she found herself thinking about her. “She's a sweet girl, isn't she? I can't imagine going through all that alone … it would be so sad …and giving the baby up …” Just thinking about it brought tears to her eyes, as she remembered holding Annie for the first time, and Tommy …they had been so adorable and so warm and dear. The thought of giving them up at birth would have killed her. But she had waited for them for such a long time, and she was so much older. Maybe at sixteen it was all just too much, and Maribeth was wise to realize that it was more than she could cope with. “Do you suppose Avery will find a family for the child?” She was suddenly concerned about her. Like Tommy, she couldn't resist the fact that Maribeth had no one else to turn to.

“I'm sure he does it more often than we suspect. It's not uncommon, you know. It's just that usually girls in her situation are hidden away somewhere. I'm sure he'll find someone very suitable for her baby.”

Liz nodded, as she lay in the dark, thinking about both of them, Maribeth and her son. They were so young and so much in love, and filled with hope. They still believed that life would be kind, and trusted in what their destinies would bring them. Liz no longer had that kind of faith, she had suffered too much pain when Annie died. She knew she would never trust the fates again. They were too cruel, and too quixotic.

They talked about her for a while, and then John finally drifted off to sleep. In some ways, they were no closer than they had been, but these days the distance between them seemed less forbidding, and every now and then, there was some gesture or kind word that warmed her. She was making a little more effort for him, and dinner that night had really shown her that she needed to get back to cooking dinner. They needed to be together at night, needed to touch each other again, and listen and talk and bring each other hope again. They had all been lost for too long, and slowly Liz could feel them coming out of the mists where they had hidden. She could almost see John, reaching out to her, or wanting to, and Tommy was there, where he had always been, only now Maribeth was standing beside him.

She felt peaceful for the first time in months when she drifted off to sleep that night, and the next morning, at the school library, she began pulling books for Maribeth and writing down assignments. She was completely prepared for her when she came to visit that Saturday afternoon, and she was surprised by the quality of the work Maribeth handed her. She was doing higher quality work than most of the seniors.

Liz frowned as she read some of it, and shook her head. And Maribeth panicked as she watched her. “Is it bad, Mrs. Whittaker? I really didn't have much time to do it at night. I can do more work on it, and I want to do another book report on Madame Bovary. I don't think that one really does the book justice.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Liz chided her, glancing up with an unexpected smile. “This is extraordinary. I'm very impressed.” She made even Tommy's work seem weak by comparison, and he was a straight-A student. She had written a paper on Russian literature, and another on the humor of Shakespeare. She had done an editorial piece on the Korean war, as a writing assignment for English comp, and all of her math work was meticulous and perfect. It was all the highest quality work Liz had seen in years, and she looked up at the immensely pregnant girl and squeezed her hand gently. “You did a wonderful job, Maribeth. You should get a whole year's credit for this, or more. You've actually done senior-caliber work here.”

“Do you really think so? Do you think I could submit it to my old school?”

“I have a better idea,” Liz said, putting the folders in a neat pile. “I want to show these to our principal, maybe I can get you credit here. They might even let you take equivalency exams, and when you go home, you could go right in as a senior.”

“Do you think they'd really let me do that?” Maribeth was stunned, and overwhelmed by what Liz was suggesting. It could mean jumping ahead a whole year, and maybe even finishing in June, which she really wanted. She knew that even the next few months at home would be painful. She had proven to herself now that she could take care of herself, and she wanted to go home again, just to be there, and see her mother and Noelle and finish school. But she knew now that she wouldn't be able to stay for very long. She had come too far, and would have grown too much to stay at home for another two years after she gave up her baby. She knew they would never let her live it down, especially her father. Six months, until graduation in June, would be plenty. And then she could move on, get a job, and maybe one day, if she was lucky, get a scholarship to college. She was even willing to go at night. She was prepared to do anything for an education, and she knew her family would never understand that.