The Gift

Chapter Seven

Tommy picked Maribeth up on her day off, and she had put on her best dress to go to his house and meet his parents. He had come to pick her up after football practice, and he was late, and he seemed more than a little nervous.

“You look really nice,” he said, looking at her, and then he bent down and kissed her. “Thank you, Maribeth.” He knew she really wanted to make an effort to meet his parents. She knew it was important to him, and she didn't want to embarrass him. it was bad enough that she was almost seven months pregnant. No one else in the world would have taken her to meet anyone, let alone their parents, except Tommy.

She was wearing a dark gray wool dress, with a little white collar and a black bow tie, that she had bought with her salary when she outgrew everything else she owned, and Tommy started taking her out for dinner on her days off from Jimmy's. And she had combed her bright red hair into a tight ponytail tied with a black velvet ribbon. She looked like a little kid hiding a big balloon under her skirt, and he smiled as he helped her into his dads truck. She looked so cute, and she hoped that the meeting with his parents would go smoothly. They had said very little to him after their long talk the week before, except that they wanted to meet her. And Maribeth was excruciatingly quiet on the drive over.

“Don't be nervous, okay?” he said, as they stopped in front of his house, and she admired how tidy it looked. It was freshly painted and there were neat flower beds outside. There were no flowers there at this time of year, but it was easy to see that the house was well cared for. “It's going to be fine,” he reassured her as he helped her down, and walked ahead of her into his house, holding her hand as he opened the door and saw his parents. They were waiting in the living room for them, and he saw his mother watch Maribeth as she quickly crossed the room to shake her hand, and then his father's.

Everyone was extremely circumspect and polite, and Liz invited her to sit down and then offered her tea or coffee. She had a Coke instead, and John chatted with her while Liz went to check on dinner.

She had made pot roast for them, and the potato pancakes Tommy loved, with creamed spinach.

Maribeth offered to help after a little while, and she wandered into the kitchen to join Tommy's mother. The two men glanced down the hall after her, and John touched Tommy's arm to stop him when he seemed about to follow her into the kitchen.

“Let her talk to your mom, Son. Let your mother get to know her. She seems like a nice girl,” he said fairly. “Pretty too. It's a shame this had to happen to her. What happened to the boy? Why didn't they get married?”

“He married someone else instead, and Maribeth didn't want to marry him, Dad. She said she didn't love him.”

“I'm not sure if that's smart of her, or very foolish. Marriage can be difficult enough sometimes, without marrying someone you don't care about. But it was brave of her to do that.” He lit his pipe and watched his son. Tommy had grown up a lot lately. “It doesn't seem fair that her parents won't see her until she has the baby,” John said, looking at his son carefully, wondering how much this girl meant to him, and he could see that she meant a great deal. His heart was bare for all to see, and his father's heart went out to him.

When Liz called them to dinner finally, she and Maribeth seemed to have become friends. Maribeth was helping put things on the table, and they were talking about a senior civics class Liz was teaching. When Maribeth said she wished she could take something like it, Liz said thoughtfully, “I suppose I could give you some of the material. Tommy said you've been trying to keep up with your school-work, by doing his with him. Would you like me to look over some of your papers?” Maribeth looked stunned by the offer.

“I'd love that,” she said gratefully, taking her place between the two men.

“Are you submitting anything to your old school, or just doing it for yourself?”

For myself mostly, but I was hoping they'd let me take some exams when I go back, to see if I could get credit for what I've been doing.”

“Why don't you let me look at it, maybe I could submit it to our school for some kind of equivalency here. Have you done all of Tommy's work?” Maribeth was quick to nod in answer, and Tommy spoke up on her behalf as he sat down between Maribeth and his mother.

“She's gone a lot further than I have, Mom. She's already finished my science book for the whole year, and European history, and she's done all of the optional papers.” Liz looked impressed and Maribeth promised to bring all her work by that weekend.

“I could give you some extra assignments actually,” Liz said, as she handed the pot roast to Maribeth. “All of my classes are for juniors and seniors.” They both looked excited as they continued to discuss it. And by the end of dinner, Liz and Maribeth had worked out an excellent plan to meet on Saturday afternoon for a few hours, and on Sunday Liz was going to give her half a dozen special assignments. “You can work on them whenever you can, and bring them back when you have the chance. Tommy says you work a six-day week at the restaurant, and I know that can't be easy.” In fact Liz was surprised she still had the energy to work ten-hour shifts on her feet, waiting on tables. “How long will you be working, Maribeth?” She was embarrassed to ask about her pregnancy, but it was difficult to avoid it, her stomach was huge by then.

“I'll the end, I think. I can't really afford not to.” She needed the money her father had given her to pay for the delivery and Dr. MacLean, and she needed her salary to live on. She really couldn't afford to quit early. Just supporting herself after the baby for a week or two was going to be a challenge. Things were pretty tight for her, but fortunately she didn't need much. And since she wasn't keeping the baby, she hadn't bought anything for it, though the girls at the restaurant kept talking about giving her a shower. She tried to discourage them, because it just made it all the more poignant, but they had no idea she wasn't keeping her baby.

“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.

Liz gave her a number of additional assignments then, and promised to see what she could do at school, and she told Maribeth she'd let her know, as soon as they told her.

They talked for a while after that, about other things than school, mostly about Tommy, and his plans. Liz was obviously still worried that he would marry her, just so she wouldn't have to give up the baby, but Liz didn't say that. She just talked about the colleges she hoped he would attend, and the opportunities open to him, and Maribeth understood her completely. She knew what Liz was saying to her, and she couldn't help herself finally. She looked straight at her, and spoke very softly.

I'm not going to marry him, Mrs. Whittaker. Not now anyway. I wouldn't do that to him. He's been wonderful to me. He's the only friend I've had since all this happened. But we're both too young, it would ruin everything. I'm not sure he really understands that,” she said sadly, “…but I do. We're not ready for a child. At least I'm not. You have to give it so much, you have to be there for your kids …you have to be someone I'm not yet …you have to be grown up,” she said with eyes filled with tears, as Liz's heart went out to her. She was barely more than a child herself, with a child of her own in her belly.

“You seem very grown up to me, Maribeth. Maybe not grown up enough to do all that …but you've got a lot to give. You do whatever is right for you …and for the baby. I just don't want Tommy to get hurt, or do something foolish.”

“He won't,” she said, smiling as she wiped her eyes, “I won't let him. Sure, sometimes I'd like to keep the baby too. But what then? What am I going to do, next month, or next year … or if I can't get a job, or there's no one to help me? And how is Tommy going to finish school, with a baby? He can't, and neither can I. I know it's my baby, and I shouldn't be talking like this, but I want what's right for the baby too. It has a right to so much more than I can give it. It has a right to parents who are crazy about it, and not scared to take care of it like I am. I want to be there for it, but I know I just can't …and that scares me.” The thought of it tore at her heart sometimes, especially now, with the baby so big and so real, and moving all the time. It was hard to ignore it, harder still to deny it. But for her, loving her child meant giving it a better life, and moving on to where she was meant to be, wherever that was.

“Has Dr. MacLean said anything to you?” Liz asked. “About who he has in mind?” Liz was curious. She knew a number of childless young couples who would have been happy to have her baby.

“He hasn't said anything,” Maribeth said with a look of concern. “I hope he knows I really mean it. Maybe he thinks Tommy and I …” She hesitated on the words and Liz laughed.

“I think he does. He kind of hinted to me a while back what a great 'young man' Tom was. I think he thought the baby was his. At least that was what I thought when I first found out. Scared me to death, I'll admit …but I don't know. I suppose there are worse fates. Tommy seems to be handling it pretty well, even though it's not his, and that must be even harder.”

“He's been fantastic to me,” Maribeth said, feeling closer to his mother than she had felt to her own in years. She was loving and warm and intelligent, and she seemed to be coming alive again after a nightmarish year. She was someone who had grieved for too long, and knew it.

“What are you going to do for the next two months?” Liz asked as she poured her a glass of milk and gave her some cookies.

“Just work, I guess. Keep on doing work for school. Wait for the baby to come. It's due Christmas.”

“That's awfully soon.” Liz looked at her warmly. “If I can do anything to help, I want you to let me know.” She wanted to help both of them now, both Maribeth and Tommy, and before Maribeth left late that afternoon, she promised to see what she could do for her at school. The prospect of that filled her with excitement, and Maribeth told Tommy all about it that night when he picked her up and took her to the movies.

They went to see Bwana Devil, in 3-D, and they had to wear colored glasses to get the three-dimensional effect. It was the first movie of its kind, and they both loved it. And after that, she told him all about the time she had spent with his mother. Maribeth had a great deal of respect for her, and Liz was growing fonder of her daily. She had invited her to dinner the following weekend. And when Maribeth told Tommy about it, he said that having her around his family sometimes made him feel almost married. He blushed when he said the words, but it was obvious that he liked it. He had been thinking about that a lot lately, now that the baby was coming so much closer.

“That wouldn't be so bad, would it?” he asked, when he took her home, trying to seem casual. “Being married I mean.” He looked so young and innocent when he said it. But Maribeth had already promised his mother, and herself, that she wouldn't let him do it.

“Until you got good and sick of me. Like in a year or two, or when I got really old, like twenty-three,” she teased. “Think of that, it's seven years from now. We could have eight kids by then, at the rate I'm going.” She always had a sense of humor about herself, and about him, but this time she knew he wasn't joking.

“Be serious, Maribeth.”

“I am. That's the trouble. We're both too young, and you know it.” But he was determined to talk to her about it again. He wasn't going to let her put him off. She still had another two months to go, but before it was all over, he wanted to make her a serious proposal of marriage.

And she was still avoiding it, the following week, when he took her skating. They had just had the first snow, and the lake was shimmering. He couldn't resist going there, and it reminded him of Annie, and all the times he had taken her skating.

“I used to come here on weekends with her. I brought her here the week before …she died.” He forced himself to say the words, no matter how much they hurt him. He knew it was time to face the fact that she was gone, but it still wasn't easy. “I miss the way she teased me all the time. She was always bugging me about girls …she would have driven me crazy about you.” He smiled, thinking of his little sister.

When she had gone to their house, Maribeth had seen her room. She had wandered into it accidentally, while looking for the bathroom. And everything was there. Her little bed, her dolls, the cradle she put them in, the bookcase with her books, her pillow and little pink blanket. It tore at Maribeth's heart but she hadn't told any of them that she had seen it. It was like visiting a shrine, and it told her just how much they all missed her.

But she was laughing, listening to him now, as he told her stories about the girls Annie had scared off, mostly because she thought they were too dumb or too ugly.

“I probably wouldn't have made it either, you know,” Maribeth said, sliding out on the ice with him, and wondering if she shouldn't. “Especially now. She'd probably have thought I was an elephant. I certainly feel like one,” she said, but still looked graceful on the ice in the skates she had borrowed from Julie.

“Should you be doing this?” he asked, suspecting somehow that she shouldn't.

“I'll be fine,” she said calmly, “as long as I don't fall,” and with that she made a few graceful spins to show him that she hadn't always been a blimp. He was impressed with her ease on the ice, and she made her figure eights look effortless, until suddenly her heel caught, and she fell with a great thud on the ice, and Tommy and several other people looked stunned and then hurried toward her. She had hit her head, and knocked the wind out of herself, and it took three people to get her up, and when they did, she almost fainted. Tommy half carried her off the ice, and everyone looked immensely worried.

“You'd better get her to a hospital,” one of the mothers skating with her kids said in an undertone. “She could go into labor.” He helped her into the truck, and a moment later was speeding her to Dr. MacLean, while berating her, and himself, for being so stupid.

“How could you do a thing like that?” he asked. “And why did I let you? …How do you feel? Are you all right?” He was an absolute wreck by the time they arrived, and she had no labor pains, but she had a good-sized headache.

“I'm fine,” she said, looking more than a little sheepish. “And I know it was dumb, but I get so tired of being fat and clumsy, and enormous.”

“You're not. You're pregnant. You're supposed to be like that. And just because you don't want the baby, you don't have to kill it.” She started to cry when he said that, and by the time they reached Dr. MacLean's, they were both upset, and Maribeth was still crying, while Tommy apologized and then yelled at her again for going skating.

“What happened? What happened? Good heavens, what's going on here?” The doctor couldn't make head or tail of it as they argued. All he could make out was that Maribeth had hit her head and tried to kill the baby. And then she started crying again, and finally she confessed, and explained that she had taken a spill on the ice when they'd gone skating.

“Skating?” He looked surprised. None of his other patients had tried that one. But they weren't sixteen years old, and both Tommy and Maribeth looked seriously mollified when he gave them a brief lecture. No horseback riding, no ice-skating, no bicycling now, in case she fell off, especially on icy roads, and no skiing. “And no football,” he added with a small smile, and Tommy chuckled. “You have to behave yourselves,” he said, and then added another sport they were not supposed to indulge in. “And no intercourse again until after the baby.” Neither of them explained that they never had, nor that Tommy was a virgin.

“Can I trust you not to go ice-skating again?” The doctor looked at her pointedly, and she looked sheepish.

“I promise.” And when Tommy left to get the car, she reminded him again that she was not planning to keep the baby, and she wanted him to find a family to adopt it.

“You're serious about that?” He seemed surprised.

The Whittaker boy was so obviously devoted to her. He would have married her in a moment. “Are you sure, Maribeth?”

“I am … I think so …” she said, trying to sound grown up. “I just can't take care of a baby.”

“Wouldn't his family help?” He knew that Liz Whittaker had wanted another baby. But maybe they didn't approve of his son having one so young, and out of wedlock. True to his promise to the kids, he'd never asked them.

But Maribeth's ideas were firm on the subject. “I wouldn't want them to do that. It's not right. This baby has a right to real parents, not children taking care of it. How can I take care of it and go to school? How can I feed it? My parents won't even let me come home, unless I come home without it.” She had tears in her eyes as she explained her situation, and by then Tommy had come back again, and the doctor patted her hand, sorry for her. She was too young to shoulder such burdens.

I'll see what I can do,” he said quietly, and then told Tommy to put her to bed for two days. No work, no fun, no sex, no skating.

“Yes, sir,” he said, helping her to the car, and holding her tight so she didn't slip on any icy patches. He asked her then what she and the doctor had been talking about. They had both looked very serious when he came back to get her.

“He said he'd help me find a family for the baby.” She didn't say anything else to him, and she was startled to realize that he was driving her to his house, not her own. “Where are we going?” she said, still looking upset. It wasn't a happy thought, giving up her baby, even if she knew it was the right thing. She knew it was going to be very painful.

“I called Mom,” he explained. “The doctor said you can only get up for meals. Otherwise you have to stay in bed. So I asked Mom if you could spend the weekend.”

“Oh no …you can't do that … I couldn't …where would I …” She seemed distraught, not wanting to impose on them, but it was all arranged, and his mother hadn't hesitated for a second. Though she had been horrified by how foolish they had been to go skating.

“It's all right, Maribeth,” Tommy said calmly. “She said you can stay in Annie's room.” There was the faintest catch in his voice as he said it. No one had been in that room in eleven months, but his mother had offered it, and when they arrived, the bed was made, the sheets were fresh, and his mother had a steaming cup of hot chocolate ready.

“Are you all right?” she asked, deeply concerned. Having had several miscarriages, she didn't want anything like that to happen to Maribeth, particularly at this stage. “How could you be so foolhardy? You're lucky she didn't lose the baby,” she scolded Tommy. But they were both young, and as she scolded them, they looked like children.

And in the pink nightgown Liz loaned her, in the narrow bed in Annie's room, Maribeth looked more like a little girl than ever. Her bright red hair hung in long braids, and all of Annie's dolls sat gazing at her from around the room. She slept for hours that afternoon, until Liz came to check on her, and ran a hand across her cheek to make sure she didn't have a fever. Liz had called Dr. MacLean herself and been reassured to hear that he didn't think she'd done any harm to the baby.

“They're so young,” he smiled as he talked to her, and then said he thought it was too bad she was giving up the baby, but he didn't want to say more. He didn't want Liz to think he was intruding. “She's a nice girl' he said thoughtfully, and Liz agreed, and then went to check on her. Maribeth was just stirring and she said her headache was better. But she still felt guilty about being in that room. More than anything, she didn't want to upset them.

But Liz was surprised how good it felt to be back in Annie's room, sitting on the bed again, and looking into Maribeth's big green eyes. She looked hardly older than Annie.

“How do you feel?” Liz asked her in a whisper. She had slept for almost three hours, while Tommy played ice hockey and left her with his mother.

“Kind of achy, and stiff, but better, I think. I was so scared when I fell. I really thought I might have killed the baby … it didn't move at all for a while …and Tommy was yelling at me … it was awful.”

“He was just frightened,” she smiled gently at her and tucked her in again, “you both were. It won't be long now. Seven more weeks, Dr. MacLean said, maybe six.” It was an enormous responsibility for her, caring for another human being within her body. “I used to be so excited before my babies came …getting everything ready,” and then suddenly Liz looked sad for her, realizing that in her case, it would be very different. “I'm sorry,” she said, with tears in her eyes, but Maribeth smiled and touched her hand.

“It's okay …thank you for letting me stay here … I love this room …it's funny to say, since we never met, but I really love her. I dream about her sometimes, and all the things Tommy has said about her. I always feel like she's still here … in our hearts and our minds …” She hoped she wouldn't upset Liz too much by saying that, but the older woman smiled and nodded.

“I feel that too. She's always near me.” She seemed more peaceful than she had in a long time, and John did too. Maybe they had finally come around. Maybe they were going to make it. Tommy says you think that some special people pass through our lives to bring us blessings … I like that idea …she was here for such a short time …five years seems like so little now, but it was such a gift … I'm glad I knew her. She taught me so many things …about laughing, and loving, and giving.”

“That's what I mean,” Maribeth said softly, as the two women held hands tightly, across her covers. “She taught you things …she even taught me about Tommy, and I never knew her …and my baby will teach me something too, even though I'll only know it for a few days … or a few hours.” Her eyes filled with tears as she said it. “And I want to give it the best gift of all …people who will love it.” She closed her eyes and the tears rolled down her cheeks, as Liz bent to kiss her forehead.

“You will. Now try and sleep some more …you and the baby need it.” Maribeth nodded, unable to say any more, and Liz quietly left the room. She knew that Maribeth had a hard time ahead of her, but a time of great gifts too, and a time of blessings.

Tommy didn't come home until late that afternoon, and asked for her as soon as he came in. But his mother was quick to reassure him. “She's fine. She's sleeping.” He peeked in at her then, and she was sound asleep in Annie's bed, holding one of her dolls, and looking like an angel.

He looked suddenly grown up as he walked back out of the room and looked at his mother.

“You love her a lot, Son, don't you?”

“I'm going to many her one day, Mom,” he said, certain that he meant it.

“Don't make plans yet. Neither of you knows where life will take you.”

“I'll find her. I'll never let her go. I love her …and the baby …” he said, sounding determined.

“It's going to be hard for her, giving it up,” Liz said. She worried for both of them, they had taken so much on. Maribeth by accident, and Tommy out of kindness.

“I know, Mom.” And if he had anything to say about it, he wouldn't let her.

When Maribeth walked slowly out of Annie's room at dinnertime, Tommy was at the kitchen table, doing homework. “How do you feel?” he asked, smiling up at her. She looked refreshed and prettier than ever.

“Like I've been much too lazy.” She looked at his mother apologetically as she finished dinner. Liz was cooking often these days, and even Tommy loved it.

“Sit down, young lady. You're not supposed to be wandering around. You heard what the doctor said. Bed, or at least a chair. Tommy, push your friend into a chair, please. And no, you may not take her out skating again tomorrow' They both grinned at her like naughty children, and she handed them each a freshly baked chocolate cookie. She liked having young people in the house again. She was happy Tommy had brought her home to them. It was fun having a young girl around. It reminded her that she would never see Annie grown up, and yet she enjoyed being with Maribeth, and so did John. He was happy to find them all in the kitchen when he got home from some unexpected Saturday afternoon work at the office.

“What's going on here? A meeting?” he teased them, pleased to encounter the festive atmosphere in his long-silent kitchen.

“A scolding. Tommy tried to kill Maribeth today, he took her skating.”

“Oh for heaven's sake …why not football?” He looked at him, reminded again of how young they both were. But she seemed to have survived it.

“We thought we'd try football tomorrow, Dad. After hockey.”

“Excellent plan.” He grinned at both of them, happy that nothing had gone wrong. And after dinner that night, they all played charades and then Scrabble. Maribeth got two seven-letter words, and Liz brought her up to date on the school's position about her assignments. They were willing to give her credit and equivalency, and if she was willing to let Liz give her four exams by the end of the year, they were not only willing to acknowledge completion of her junior year, but roughly half her senior year as well. The work she'd turned in had been first-rate, and if she did well in her exams, she would only have one semester to complete before graduation.

“You did it, kiddo,” she congratulated her, proud of her, just as she would have been of one of her students.

“No, I didn't,” Maribeth beamed, “you did.” And then she let out a happy little squeal and reminded Tommy that she was now a senior.

“Don't let it go to your head. You know, my mom could still flunk you if she wanted. She might too, she's really tough on seniors.” They were all in high spirits, even the baby that night. It had gotten its energy back with a vengeance and was kicking Maribeth visibly every five minutes.

“It's mad at you,” Tommy said later, as he sat on her bed next to her, and felt the baby kicking. “I guess it should be. That was really dumb of me …I'm sorry …”

“Don't be, I loved it,” Maribeth grinned. She was still elated about the good news of her senior status.

“That means a lot to you, doesn't it? School, I mean,” he said, as he watched her face while they talked about school, and not having to go back as a junior.

“I just want to go back, and move on as soon as I can. Even six months will seem like forever.”

“Will you come visit?” he asked sadly. He hated thinking about when she'd be gone.

“Sure,” she said, but she didn't sound convincing. “I'll try. You can visit me too.” But they both suspected that her father wouldn't be giving him the warm welcome she was enjoying from his parents. Just as Tommy had, they were falling in love with her. They could see easily why Tommy loved her. “Maybe I could visit next summer, before I go to Chicago.”

“Why Chicago?” he complained, no longer satisfied with just a summer. “Why not go to college here?”

“I'll apply,” she conceded, “we'll see if I get accepted.”

“With your grades, they'll beg you.”

“Not exactly,” she grinned, and he kissed her, and they both forgot about grades and school and college and even the baby, although it kicked him soundly as he held her.

“I love you, Maribeth,” he reminded her, “both of you. Don't ever forget that.” She nodded then, and he held her for a long time, as they sat side by side on his sister's narrow bed, talking quietly about all the things that mattered to them. His parents were already in bed, and they knew he was there. But they trusted them. And eventually, when Maribeth started to yawn, Tommy smiled at her, and then went back to his own room, wondering about their future.