Tommy walked her slowly to the door, and they lingered for a long time on the steps. It was a clear cold night and when he kissed her good night he could feel her and the baby and he knew he wanted her forever. He refused to accept the idea that she might never many him, or sleep with him, or have his baby. He wanted to share so much with her, and he knew he would never let her go now, he kissed her again and then left her finally as he hurried down the steps looking handsome and tousled.

“What are you looking so happy about?” his mother asked as he came in after he took Maribeth home.

“She's coming to Thanksgiving,” he said, but she could see that there was more than that. He was living on dreams and hopes, and the excitement of first love. Sometimes he was so elated when he'd been with her he was almost manic.

“Did she say anything else?” His mother watched him carefully. She worried about him sometimes, she knew how much he was in love with her. But she also knew that Maribeth had bigger problems. Giving up a child was liable to mark her forever. “How is she coping with things? It's getting awfully close to her due date.” She was healthy, but in her case, that wasn't the problem. She had childbirth to face, with no husband, no family, a baby to give up, if she really did, and a difficult family situation to go home to. She was adamant about leaving them by June, if she even made it that long, which Liz sometimes doubted. She'd been gone for five months, and had been completely independent of them. It wouldn't be easy for her to go back now, and take whatever abuse her father chose to dish out for her transgressions.

“Is she really” serious about giving up the baby?” Liz asked, as she finished drying the dishes, and Tommy munched on some cookies. He liked talking to his mother, she knew about things, and girls, and life. They hadn't talked much in the last year, but she seemed more like her old self now.

“I think she is. I think she's crazy to do it. But she says she knows she can't take care of it right. I don't think she really wants to give it up, but she thinks she should, for the baby's sake.”

“The ultimate sacrifice,” Liz said sadly, thinking that there was nothing worse in the world for any woman to face, and wishing she could have another baby.

“I keep telling her not to, but she won't listen.”

“Maybe she's right. For her. Maybe she knows what she can and can't do right now. She's very young, and she has no one to help her. Her family doesn't sound as though they'll do anything for her. It would be a terrible burden, and she might hold it against the child. It might ruin both their lives if she kept it.” She couldn't imagine it, but in all fairness she had to admit that Maribeth's situation was anything but easy.

“That's what she says. She says she knows it's the right thing for her to do. I think that's why she doesn't talk about the baby much, or buy little baby things. She doesn't want to get attached to it.” But he still wanted to marry her and keep it. To him, that seemed the right thing to do. He was willing to shoulder his own responsibilities, hers, and someone else's. His parents had taught him well, and he was an exceptionally decent person.

“You have to listen to what she wants, Tom,” Liz warned. “She knows what's right for her, no matter how it seems to you. Don't try to force her into something else …” she looked at him pointedly then “…or yourself into something you can't handle. You're both very young, marriage and parenthood isn't something to be entered into lightly, or because you want to help someone out. It's a nice thought, but it's a lot to live up to. If things go wrong, and they do sometimes, you both have to be very strong to help each other. You can't do that at sixteen” … or even at forty or fifty …she and John had done so little to help each other in the past year. She realized now how lonely they had both been, how alone, and unable to support each other. They had been totally lost to each other.

“I love her, Mom,” he said honestly, feeling something wrench at his heart. “I don't want her to go through all that alone.” He was being honest with her, and she knew him well. She knew what he wanted to do for Maribeth, and however good his intentions were, or how sweet Maribeth was, she didn't want them to get married. Not yet, not now, and not for the wrong reasons.

“She's not alone. You're there for her.”

“I know. But it's not the same,” he said sadly.

“She needs to work this out. It's her life too. Let her find the right road for herself. If it's right for you both, one day you'll be together.”

He nodded, wanting to convince all of them that she should keep the baby and many him, but even Maribeth wouldn't agree to that, nor his parents. They were all being incredibly stubborn.

But on Thanksgiving they looked like one happy family, as they sat around the table. Liz had used their best lace tablecloth that had been John's grandmother's and a wedding present to them, and the china they only used on special occasions. Maribeth wore a dark green silk dress she'd bought for the holidays, and her thick red hair cascaded in generous waves past her shoulders. Her big green eyes made her look like a little girl, and in spite of her vast girth, she looked incredibly pretty. Liz had worn a bright blue dress, and a touch of rouge, which no one had seen in a long time. The men wore suits, and the house looked warm and festive.

Maribeth had brought flowers to Liz, big gold chrysanthemums, and a box of chocolates, which Tommy was devouring. And after lunch, when they all sat in front of the fireplace, they seemed more of a family than ever. It was their first major holiday without Annie, and Liz had been dreading it. And she'd thought of her repeatedly that day, but somehow with Maribeth and Tommy near at hand, it didn't seem quite as painful. And that afternoon, Liz and John went for a long walk, and Tommy took Maribeth for a drive. Although she had offered to work, they had given her the weekend off work, and she was staying with Tommy and his parents.

“No skating, you two!” Liz called as they drove off, and she and John walked along with the dog. They were going to drop in on some friends, and the foursome had agreed to meet back at the house in two hours and go to a movie.

“What do you want to do?” Tom asked as they drove toward the lake, but Maribeth had an odd request. He was surprised, but in some ways relieved. He had wanted to go there all day, and thought she would think he was weird and crazy if he said it.

“Would you mind terribly if we stopped at the cemetery for a few minutes? I just thought … I felt like I was taking her place today, except I wasn't. I kept wishing she was there with us, so your parents would be happy again. I don't know … I just want to stop and say hi to her.”

“Yeah,” Tommy said, “me too.” It was exactly what he had felt, except that his parents had been a lot better than they had been in a long time, especially with each other.

They stopped and bought flowers along the way. Little yellow and pink sweetheart roses with baby's breath, tied with long pink ribbons, and they set them gently on her grave, next to the little white marble headstone.

“Hi, kiddo,” Tommy said quietly, thinking of the big blue eyes that had always sparkled. “Mom made a pretty good turkey today. You'd have hated the stuffing, it had raisins.”

They sat there together for a long time, holding hands, thinking about her, and not talking. It was hard to believe that she'd been gone almost a year. In some ways it seemed only moments since she left, in other ways it felt like forever.

“Bye, Annie,” Maribeth said softly as they left, but they both knew that they took her with them. She went with them everywhere, in the memories Tommy carried with him, in the room where Maribeth stayed, in the look in Liz's eyes when she remembered.

“She was such a great kid,” he said with a catch in his voice as he walked away. “I still can't believe she's gone.”

“She isn't,” Maribeth said softly. “You just can't see her now, Tommy. But she's always with you.”

“I know,” he shrugged, looking all of sixteen, and not an instant more, “but I still miss her.”

Maribeth nodded, and moved closer to him. The holidays made her think of her family, and talking about Annie made her miss Noelle. She hadn't been able to speak to her since she left home, and her mother had told her months before on the phone that her father wouldn't let Noelle have Maribeth's letters. At least she'd be seeing her soon …but what if something ever happened to her …like Annie …the very thought of it made her shudder.

Maribeth was quiet when they got home, and Tommy knew she was upset about something. He wondered if maybe he shouldn't have taken her to Annie's grave. Maybe at this stage in her pregnancy, it was too upsetting.

“Are you okay? Do you want to lie down?”

“I'm fine,” she said, fighting back tears again. His parents weren't home yet. He and Maribeth had come back early. And then she totally surprised him. “Do you think your parents would mind if I called home? I just thought that maybe …maybe on the holiday … I just thought I'd say Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Sure …that's fine.” He was sure his parents wouldn't mind. And if they did, he'd pay for the call himself. He left her alone while she gave the operator her number, and waited.

Her mother was the first to come on the line. She sounded breathless and busy, and there was a lot of noise around her. Maribeth knew that her aunts and their families always went to her house for Thanksgiving, and both of them had young children. There was lots of squealing, and her mother couldn't hear her.