when he thought he was in love with her; but he could not be sure, and it was torture. He could never do to Jennifer what he had done to his wife. God, Ken thought, why the hell couldn’t You make up Your mind about me?
He ran his hands through his red hair and said, “If you don’t want to have it in New York, I’d suggest North Carolina. It’s not too far away.”
“Can you check it out for me?”
“Yeah. Fine. I—“
“Yes?”
He looked away from her. “Nothing.”
Ken Bailey disappeared for the next three days. When he walked into Jennifer’s office on the third day, he was unshaven and his eyes were hollow and red-rimmed.
Jennifer took one look at him and asked, “Are you all right?”
“I guess so.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No.” If God can’t help me, love, there’s nothing you can do.
He handed Jennifer a slip of paper. On it was written, Dr. Eric Linden, Memorial Hospital, Charlotte, North Carolina.
“Thank you, Ken.”
“De nada. When are you going to do it?”
“I’ll go down there this weekend.”
He said awkwardly, “Would you like me to go with you?”
“No, thanks. I’ll be fine.”
“What about the return trip?”
“I’ll be all right.”
He stood there a moment, hesitating. “It’s none of my business, but are you sure this is what you want to do?”
“I’m sure.”
She had no choice. She wanted nothing more in the world than to keep Adam’s baby, but she knew it would be insane to try to bring the baby up by herself.
She looked at Ken and said again, “I’m sure.”
The hospital was a pleasant old two-story brick building on the outskirts of Charlotte.
The woman behind the registration desk was gray-haired, in her late sixties. “May I help you?”
“Yes,” Jennifer said. “I’m Mrs. Parker. I have an appointment with Dr. Linden to—to—” She could not bring herself to say the words.
The receptionist nodded understandingly. “The doctor’s expecting you, Mrs. Parker. I’ll have someone show you the way.”
An efficient young nurse led Jennifer to an examining room down the hall and said, “I’ll tell Dr. Linden you’re here. Would you like to get undressed? There’s a hospital gown on the hanger.”
Slowly, possessed by a feeling of unreality, Jennifer undressed and put on the white hospital gown. She felt as though she were putting on a butcher’s apron. She was about to kill the life inside her. In her mind, the apron became spattered with blood, the blood of her baby. Jennifer found herself trembling.
A voice said, “Here, now. Relax.”
Jennifer looked up to see a burly bald-headed man wearing horn-rimmed glasses that gave his face an owlish appearance.
“I’m Dr. Linden.” He looked at the chart in his hand. “You’re Mrs. Parker.”
Jennifer nodded.
The doctor touched her arm and said soothingly, “Sit down.” He went to the sink and filled a paper cup with water. “Drink this.”
Jennifer obeyed. Dr. Linden sat in a chair, watching her until the trembling had subsided.
“So. You want to have an abortion.”
“Yes.”
“Have you discussed this with your husband, Mrs. Parker?”
“Yes. We—we both want it.”
He studied her. “You appear to be in good health.”
“I feel—I feel fine.”
“Is it an economic problem?”
“No,” Jennifer said sharply. Why was he bothering her with questions? “We—we just can’t have the baby.”
Dr. Linden took out a pipe. “This bother you?”
“No.”
Dr. Linden lit the pipe and said, “Nasty habit.” He leaned back and blew out a puff of smoke.
“Could we get this over with?” Jennifer asked.
Her nerves were stretched to the breaking point. She felt that at any moment she was going to scream.
Dr. Linden took another long, slow puff from his pipe. “I think we should talk for a few minutes.”
By an enormous effort of will, Jennifer controlled her agitation. “All right.”
“The thing about abortions,” Dr. Linden said, “is that they’re so final. You can change your mind now, but you can’t change it after the baby’s gone.”
“I’m not going to change my mind.”
He nodded and took another slow puff of the pipe. “That’s good.”
The sweet smell of the tobacco was making Jennifer nauseous. She wished he would put away his pipe. “Doctor Linden—”
He rose to his feet reluctantly and said, “All right, young lady, let’s have a look at you.”
Jennifer lay back on the examining table, her feet in the cold metal stirrups. She felt his fingers probing inside her body. They were gentle, and skilled, and she felt no embarrassment, only an ineffable sense of loss, a deep sorrow. Unbidden visions came into her mind of her young son, because she knew with certainty