Amy

I DIDN’T CRY or scream or howl as Arcas said good-bye and shut the door. Stupefied, I sat motionless for several minutes then got up, tucked the old paperweight he’d left me into a drawer, then stood staring at the dogwood trees across the street. I could hear my sister calling for help in the distance, in the distance, but I ignored her. For once, I was the one who needed help. Finally, I picked up the phone and dialed Nancy’s number. If she refused my call and abandoned me as well, I wasn’t sure I’d make it through the day. My hands were shaking but my voice was steady when she answered.

“Nancy, I know you said we shouldn’t talk until Tom and Arcas patched things up, but things have changed, and I really need to see you.”

To my surprise, she didn’t ask a single question or hesitate a moment. She simply said, “Things have changed here too. I guess it’s time we talked. Where do you want to meet?” I was so relieved I could have kissed her.

We agreed on Mars, a little dive on College Street where the four of us used to meet for Mars muffins, greasy potatoes, and fried eggs on Sunday mornings. Nancy was already waiting in a small booth when I arrived. As we hugged, I felt the first real wave of grief swell within me. I blinked away the tears and tried to look like someone who wasn’t about to make a scene in public.

Nancy looked me over with an expression of alarm. “What’s going on? Where’s your coat? Hell, where are your clothes? You can’t walk around like that.”

She was right. I’d run out of my apartment wearing nothing but a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. The temperature was barely above freezing, but I hadn’t even felt the cold. “I’m OK, but I could use a cup of coffee.” I slipped into the booth and realized I was shivering.

Nancy draped her coat around my shoulders and pushed her cup of coffee toward me. “You’re not okay. What happened? I’ve never seen you like this.”

I sipped the hot coffee without talking, determined not to cry. Finally, I managed, “Arcas is going back to Greece, and I don’t think he’s coming back. He’s on some sort of secret mission that might get him killed and that’s everything I know.”

“This morning, right before I called you. It came out of nowhere. I was happy, planning a nice Thanksgiving dinner and then . . .” That did it. The dam broke and I heard a loud thin wail echo through the diner. Nancy came and sat beside me with her arms around my shoulders.

“Oh, you poor thing,” she cooed. “Don’t cry, he’ll be fine, and he’ll come home. He’s crazy about you. Everyone knows how much he loves you. Did he really say he wasn’t coming back?”

I shook my head and blew my nose into a paper napkin. “No, but it felt final, like he might die or go to jail for years.” Nancy’s face twisted with concern as I choked out, “I might never set eyes on him again.”

“A secret mission? Really? Our guys don’t go on secret missions, that sounds like crazy talk.” Nancy shook her head in disbelief.

“That’s what he said but if you’d been there you’d believe him. I think it’s true.” An idea popped into my head that gave me a sliver of hope. “Could Tom talk to Dr. Papandreou? I bet he knows what’s going on.”

Nancy looked doubtful and I could feel the small swell of optimism collapse inside me. “I can ask, but I don’t know what good it would do.” She let go of my hand. “If Arcas is really on a secret mission then it’s secret, Papandreou wouldn’t tell us.” She paused. “But honestly, there’s something fishy about this story. Arcas stopped working with us a month ago. He hasn’t handed out a flyer or put up a notice since he got back from Greece. That’s why Tom was so mad. Arcas dropped the ball on a bunch of things he was supposed to do, and now he’s risking his life for the cause? I don’t get it.”

Nancy was a good friend, but she was useless. Her loyalty belonged entirely to Tom and Tom wasn’t part of whatever Arcas was involved with. Papandreou might know, but not the students attending rallies and arguing politics in the tavernas. They were pawns. Arcas was a knight. If he’d stepped back from the small efforts being made by expat students in Toronto, it was because he’d been recruited by someone or something bigger and more dangerous. I remembered the dark car careening toward Nancy the night we met and the stories about Greek military police imprisoning, torturing, and even murdering members of the resistance. I pulled Nancy’s coat tighter and slumped against the wall. I wanted my sister. I missed her more at that moment than I had in all the time since she’d been gone.

Joanie would have known what to say. Her simple presence, even without a word, would have reassured me, but she was dead, and now Arcas was gone too. This wasn’t the way my life was supposed to go. I was one of the Adler twins, pretty, popular, and over-indulged by doting parents. I was supposed to grow old with Joanie delighting in loving husbands, precocious children, fulfilling careers, and long vacations on sunny beaches. What the hell was this misfit of a life? I glared at Nancy, angry that she was not my sister, and that Canada was not my country.

“You poor thing,” Nancy continued to coo, oblivious to my irrational anger. “Let’s get some breakfast into you, or are you ready for lunch?”

“Well, I’ve already ordered, so why don’t you just share my muffin and then I’ll call Tom to bring his car and drive us home.”

I nodded morosely. It wasn’t Nancy’s fault that my life was shit. I tried to smile, but my face had frozen into a glum scowl. She continued looking at me with kind eyes glistening with sympathetic tears.

“Sure.” There was an awkward silence and then I remembered our earlier conversation. “On the phone you said things were changing with you too. What’s going on?”

“Oh, it doesn’t seem that important now. It can wait until we’ve got you sorted out.”

“UBC, what’s that?” I asked. I couldn’t recall her applying for anything.

“University of British Columbia, you’re such an American. I told you about it. At least I told you that I was applying for a journalism scholarship.”

That jogged my memory, but I was still confused. “I thought you were applying for a scholarship here, at the University of Toronto.”

“I applied to a bunch of schools, but UBC is the only one that’s offered me a free ride: tuition, room and board, a work-study stipend, plus it has the best journalism program. The thing is, it’s on the west coast.”

“I don’t know. I mean, Tom can’t go with me. He has to stay here to finish his degree in Toronto, but when am I going to get an opportunity like this again? The way things are now, taking one class a semester, I’ll be ancient by the time I graduate.”

A dull throbbing made its way up my neck and settled in my temples. “My losses were really adding up: Joanie, Arcas, and now Nancy. “Do you have an aspirin? I’m getting a headache.” While Nancy sifted through her purse looking for some Anacin, I tried to be happy for her, but I only felt abandoned and betrayed. “What did Tom say? Does he think that you should go?”

“He won’t tell me. He says it has to be my decision, but he looks miserable, and he’s been extra sweet ever since I got the offer. I feel guilty leaving him, but I’d feel worse giving up this chance. What do you think?”

“You might never get another scholarship this good, but you might never meet another guy like Tom either. It’s up to you, but I’d think twice before leaving my boyfriend. I would never have left Arcas.”

Nancy shook her head. “You’re such a damn romantic, standing by your man, but Arcas is gone, and Tom will disappear too as soon as they throw out the colonels. Honestly, hearing about Arcas leaving makes me think. We have to look out for ourselves.” She handed me two aspirin then sat back in her chair, a resolute look on her face. “I’m taking that scholarship.”

I was too stunned to respond. I swallowed the aspirin with the last sip of coffee and calculated my options. For a moment, I thought of moving to British Columbia so I wouldn’t be left in Toronto by myself, but then I’d be thousands of miles away from my parents and finding another job, given my illegal status, wouldn’t be easy. So, there I was, living a life with no escape, no friends, no lover, and no sister.

The waitress came by with a cheese omelet, bacon, potatoes, and a large bran muffin. The smell of the food repulsed me. Even the sound of the plate being pushed across the table rattled my nerves. At least Joanie had the decency to be quiet and stop her incessant calls for help. I closed my eyes and held on to the table, afraid I might faint as the restaurant whirled around me.

A familiar voice whispered in my ear. “You’re going to be OK, just keep breathing. There you go. Everything’s going to be fine. Exhale slowly, that’s it. You’re strong and your life is going to be wonderful. Trust me. You’re not alone.” I couldn’t tell if the voice was Nancy’s or my sister’s, but I started to relax.

When I opened my eyes Nancy had her arm around my shoulders. “I’ve called Tom. He’ll be here in ten minutes. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have dumped my problems on you at a time like this.”

“No, that’s okay. I’m alright now, but I think I’d like to go home. Could Tom drop me off at my apartment?”

“Of course, he’ll take you wherever you want to go, but I have to get to work. We’ve got an accreditation review coming up next week so it’s all hands on deck, but I’ll be back by six if you want to come for dinner. It’ll just be takeout, but I’d love to have you join us.”

“Not today, Nancy, but I’ll call tomorrow, and thanks for meeting me on such short notice—and for your coat.” I handed the coat back and gave her a hug.” You’re a good friend and I’ll miss you to pieces if you leave.”

Tom and I drove back to my apartment in virtual silence. Nancy had told him about Arcas, but what could he say? He mumbled something about being sorry to hear the news and I mumbled something back then turned and looked out the window at shoppers going about their business, each engrossed in their own little dramas and oblivious to mine. I wanted to ask Tom what he knew, but I’d promised Arcas not to tell anyone about his mission, and I’d already said too much.

Tom pulled up in front of my building and I started to open the car door when he cut off the motor and said, “Wait a minute, there’s something I need to ask you.”

I kept my hand on the door handle, but I turned back, hoping he knew something that would make sense of all this.

“Listen, Arcas lost all interest in our work. He dropped the ball on a couple big events, stopped returning our calls, and wouldn’t even meet for drinks. That’s why we had that fight, I thought he’d lost all interest in the cause, and now Nancy tells me he’s risking his life for the resistance. I don’t get it.”

“Frankly, I wouldn’t think he’d even know about it. I sure wouldn’t think he’d be involved. All we’ve heard are rumors, but now I’m wondering. Are you sure he didn’t tell you anything? If he did, I’d really like to know.”

My God, this was too much. Tom was pumping me for information. “No, he didn’t tell me anything. Maybe your friend, Dr. Papandreou knows. Ask him and then tell me.” I got out and slammed the door.

The cookbooks were still spread out on my kitchen table when I got back to my apartment. All those recipes, all those happy plans . . . I cleared the table to hide the evidence, poured myself a glass of chardonnay, and called my mother.

“Hi, Mom, listen, I can’t do Thanksgiving this year. Arcas had to go back to Greece and I’m just not in the mood. No, I’m fine. He didn’t say, some kind of family thing. He doesn’t even know if he’ll be back. Sure, I’d love to see you, but I’m not cooking. No, please don’t bring anything. We’ll go out or eat scrambled eggs and toast. Sorry, I’m just not feeling very festive. No, I’m not crying. Maybe I’m coming down with something and I guess I’m kind of shell shocked. Please, stop worrying. I love you too and tell Dad I’m sorry about Thanksgiving.”

My parents arrived with a carload of groceries: turkey, sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, the whole shebang. There was no stopping them. I sat sullenly on the sofa while they diced and spiced, basted and whipped. There was too much food for three people, so we invited Nancy and Tom to join us.

They arrived in good spirits which only annoyed me further. Tom, who’d recently shaved off his beard, turned out to be unexpectedly good looking. Who could have guessed he was hiding a strong jaw line beneath that scraggly beard? I figured he’d spruced himself up as a ploy to keep Nancy in Toronto, but the only ones he was charming were my parents. So, there I was, sitting at a table covered with festive food trying not to barf. I smiled and nodded until nine o’clock when I couldn’t fake it any longer.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I’m so exhausted, but I need to crash. The party’s over and I’m officially throwing you out.”

“But it’s only nine,” my mother protested. She loved parties and came alive in company.

“I know, but I can’t stay awake another minute and you’re sitting on my bed.” This was true since I slept on the sofa when my parents were in town.

Nancy was on her feet in an instant. “No problem, I completely understand. It’s been a long day for all of us.” She gathered up plates and glasses and carried them to the kitchen. “You’ve been tired a lot lately. Could you be coming down with something? There’s a nasty flu going around.”

“Nah, I’m just pooped.” I watched as Nancy filled the sink with soapy water and rolled up her sleeves. “Hey, you don’t have to do the dishes, you’re my guest.”

“How about if I wash and you dry?” She tossed me a towel then returned to scraping and stacking. “I wanted a few minutes to talk with you in private anyway.”

I turned and saw my parents and Tom still engrossed in an animated discussion of the scandal surrounding Spiro Agnew, the first US vice president of Greek heritage. No one but Nancy seemed to have noticed that I’d thrown them out. “OK, my mom will stay up all night doing them herself if we don’t wash them first.” I took a dripping platter from Nancy and began drying.

Nancy lowered her voice, although no one in the living room was paying any attention to us. “Tom doesn’t know it yet, but I’ve officially accepted that position at the University of British Columbia. I’ll be leaving right after Christmas.”

The serving dish nearly slipped from my hands. “Why so soon? Doesn’t the program start in September?” Right after Christmas? That was only two months away. I saw the silhouette of my sister slipping beneath the waves. Everyone I loved was disappearing.

Nancy handed me another dish. “The program starts in September, but I’m missing a bunch of prerequisites. If I go now, I can make them up then start with everyone else in the fall.

“Leaving Tom is going to be hard, but we’re talking about the rest of my life and well . . .” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I never thought Tom was forever.”

The sound of running water merged with the whooshing static inside my head. I was speechless. There were no words, only white noise, and a growing queasiness. I stood frozen for a long minute then my stomach heaved, and I ran for the bathroom.

MY PARENTS STAYED for a week. They asked a few discrete questions about Arcas but didn’t push for answers. In fact, they were nothing but solicitous and kind while I was moody, sullen, and uncommunicative. They deserved better, but I couldn’t pull it off. Abbott’s Printing had given me two days off for Thanksgiving and I’d taken additional vacation days imagining dinners at my favorite restaurants, trips to the theater, and hikes through the park. I’d pictured my parents laughing with Arcas, discussing politics, economics, and his childhood in Greece. Instead, we mostly hung out in my apartment reading, napping, and watching old movies on TV.

Arcas’s absence was so sudden and so absolute that it felt unreal. I startled every time the telephone rang and waited for the mail, hoping for a Greek postmark that never appeared. My mother treated me like an invalid. She made me shower, forced me to eat, and took me out for air despite my protests. It wasn’t the trip any of us had imagined. Finally, she’d had enough.

As she stared at me over the Globe and Mail, I could see the disapproval in her face. It was nearly noon, and I was still in my pajamas. She tried to maintain a pleasant tone, but I knew she was teetering somewhere between sympathy and disgust. “Well, if you don’t want to go shopping and you don’t want to go out to lunch and you don’t want to go to a museum, what do you want to do?”

I turned off the TV and sat up. “Why don’t you and Dad go somewhere by yourselves this afternoon? How about Casa Loma? It’s this castle some crazy guy built in the middle of Toronto. I’ve been there a half dozen times, but you’d love it.”

“Amy, we came here to be with you. The whole point of the trip was spending time together as a family. Isn’t there anything you want to do?”

I did an inventory of all the sites and attractions Toronto had to offer. It was a long list, but none of them appealed to me. “All I want to do is sleep. Maybe I’m coming down with something.”

My mother pressed her cheek against my forehead the way she’d done when I was small. “You aren’t running a fever, but you certainly haven’t been yourself. You should see a doctor. Do you have a doctor here?”

“Not really, there’s a family practice near where I work. Mrs. Klein knows a doctor there who’d see me without insurance, but honestly, it’s probably just a stomach thing. I’ll be fine in a day or two.”

My mother raised her eyebrows. “I certainly hope so, but promise me you’ll see a doctor if you’re not better by next week. We’re concerned about you.”

She was right. I needed to shape up and stop making other people miserable. I hoisted myself out of the sofa cushions. “Look, I’m standing up. I’m going to get dressed and then I’m taking you to Casa Loma, OK?”

I showed them around the monstrous hundred room mansion some warped megalomaniac had built just before the First World War, and then I heroically attempted lunch in China Town. The won ton soup stayed down, but I couldn’t even look at the sweet and sour chicken. The point is, I made an effort. I tried to be pleasant and to salvage our last few days together. They deserved that much from their sole surviving daughter.

By the time they left, I’d put their minds at ease and had begun imagining some sort of post-Arcas life for myself. Tom, on the other hand, was coming apart. His behavior was totally unexpected and out of character. Of the four of us, he’d always been the most self-assured and self- controlled. His passion was politics, not women. He rolled his eyes at couples like me and Arcas who made a public display of their affection. I never expected to find an utterly bereft, half crazed man standing at my door. Maybe I’d misjudged him.

“Nancy says she’s leaving in two weeks. You’ve got to talk to her.” He walked past me without an invitation and stood vibrating in my kitchen.

“Are you sure? She told me she wasn’t leaving until Christmas.” I buttoned my robe then filled the coffee maker with water from the sink.

“She was invited to spend the holidays with family in Alberta, so now she’s leaving November first. She says she hasn’t had a real vacation in three years.” He threw himself into one of my kitchen chairs. His eyes were red and his hair looked like Medusa’s. “Why is she doing it? What’s the point?”

The coffee machine hissed and gurgled while my stomach roiled. Frankly, I was almost as shocked as he was. “Is there any chance she’ll change her mind?”

“Not for me, but maybe if you talk to her. Tell her she can be a journalist in Toronto even without a degree if that’s what she really wants.”

I poured two cups of coffee and sat down beside Tom. I pushed a cup in his direction. “Here, drink this. It might help you think straight. You look as if you haven’t slept.” We sat without talking, staring at our coffees, bleary eyed and desolate. Finally, I said, “She doesn’t want a job on some neighborhood newspaper, she wants The Globe and Mail, The New York Times, The Washington Post. This is her big chance. It’s not fair to make her stay. You’re going back to Greece and then what will she do?”

“But that’s just it. I’m not going back.” Tom stood up and paced. “I just got a great job offer here in Toronto. I told her, but it didn’t make a difference.” He sat down, hugged himself, and rocked in his chair. “She doesn’t care.”

“Not just for Nancy. It’s a really good job, not just good money, but an opportunity to do important work. They want me part-time now and full-time when I finish my degree. I love Greece, but who knows when the junta will fall, and I thought I had a life here with Nancy.”

We both had tears in our eyes, orphans abandoned by the ones we’d loved and trusted most. Nancy wasn’t going to change her mind, and who knew if Arcas was ever coming back.

“She was my first real girlfriend.” Tom cradled the cup of coffee against his chest. “I never dated before moving to Toronto. In Greece we hung out in groups, there was never anyone special. Then, as soon as I arrived, I met Nancy. We hit it off right away, even though we didn’t have that much in common. She’s never traveled outside Ontario, but she had my number from day one.” He looked at me with a sad, resigned, half smile. “I thought about moving out west to be with her, but that would mean walking away from my degree and this great job. I can’t do that.” He sat back in his chair and looked at me with an appraising eye. “What keeps you here? You could go back to the States any time.”

“No, I can’t. I really can’t go back.” Tom’s eyes widened. “It’s a long story, but trust me, I never meant to live here, but I don’t mind it anymore. Toronto’s incredible and it’s starting to feel like home.”

WHEN THE NAUSEA and fatigue didn’t subside and my period was two months late I made an appointment with the family practice down the street, paying for the visit out of pocket as Mrs. Klein suggested. I already knew that I was pregnant, but I needed to hear it from a doctor. She confirmed my diagnosis. I was due in early July.

That night, alone in bed I howled in terror. I couldn’t have a baby, it was impossible. I wouldn’t be able to work for months, and then I’d need to pay for childcare. How would I pay for everything, for anything, with no job and no insurance? I couldn’t even apply for welfare without risking deportation and arrest. What if I were sent to jail? What if they took my baby?

“Help!” I screamed into the night. “Help! Help!” But Joanie couldn’t save me any more than I could rescue her, and Arcas was a million miles away. The little life inside me whispered, “Shh, shh, shh.” And I saw her, alive in the water of my womb floating peacefully, alive, not drowning.

I desperately wanted Arcas. I needed to tell him he was going to be a father. I needed to see his face, to know that he was happy. I wanted him to take me to prenatal appointments, to make sure I took my vitamins, to hold my hand when I was scared, and to help hang curtains in the nursery. But you don’t always get what you want, not even what you need.

The other person I needed desperately was Joanie. How many years had we played with dolls, imagining our babies growing up together? Now, she’d never be a mother and she’d never know this child, her niece or nephew, and my baby would never know her. This was simply wrong. My life was all off script. Where was the devoted husband, the cozy house, the ecstatic family? Where was Arcas? Where was Joanie?

It was another week before I found the courage to telephone my parents. They were devastated by the news. Apart from the shame and embarrassment they struggled to conceal, there were a million practical objections. I couldn’t move back home. I couldn’t even cross the border. I didn’t have health insurance. My apartment was too small and how could I care for a baby and keep my job? There was nothing they said I hadn’t already thought of. I closed my ears to their sensible concerns, terrified but undaunted.

This was Arcas’s baby, and we’d be waiting for him when he returned. If he came back, he’d love us both and we’d make a life together. Women through the ages had babies while their partners were at war or working far from home. There was no reason I couldn’t do it too. With luck, Arcas would be back before the little one was even born. Without luck . . . my heart sank. Without luck the future looked bleak, and I didn’t know how I’d manage.

But I did have luck and it came from an unexpected source. The bright light was Abbott’s Printing. The Kleins received my news with good humor and congratulations, then made plans for me to work from home. They promised to send a drafting table and supplies to my apartment so that I could cut and paste while caring for a baby, and then they offered me the chance to earn more money selling on commission on the phone.

Knowing I could support myself put my parents’ minds at ease. They began suggesting baby names, they ordered a crib from Simpsons, promised to visit me at Christmas, and to stay two weeks in July. I looked forward to seeing them but held on to the delusion that Arcas would be back and looking after us by then.

Nancy was already gone, and Tom was moping around, miserable without her. Neither of them knew about my pregnancy. I’d have to tell them soon, but I put off the inevitable, hoping for a miracle.

Within days extraordinary news from Greece destroyed that fantasy. Greek students protesting the junta had occupied the Polytechnic in Athens and thousands of people were pouring into the streets supporting them. Fires were being set, bombs were being thrown, military snipers had already killed twenty-four civilians and injured hundreds more. I was sure Arcas was in the middle of the fray, and that he wasn’t coming home to hold my hand.

Tom began dropping in to visit unannounced. We’d sit in front of the television, eating takeout and watching news from Greece. As we watched horrific footage of a tank ripping through the Polytechnic gate with students still clinging to its bars, I clutched the necklace that I always wore and prayed to Joanie, as though she were my patron saint, please keep him safe, please keep him safe.

A week later it seemed my prayers had been answered. It was a Saturday and Tom and I were going out for lunch when the mailman passed us in the hall. “Amy Adler?” He held out a small pile of envelopes. I saw a Greek stamp and my heart all but stopped. He’d written. He was coming home. I tore the envelope open and unfolded a single sheet of typed print with trembling hands. It wasn’t from Arcas.

My Dear Miss Adler,

I am sorry to tell you that your dear friend, Arcas Vasiliou, has died a hero. I cannot give you more details, but he knew he was putting himself in danger and instructed me to write you if he did not survive. He was a brave man who will be remembered as a martyr to a noble cause. He said to tell you that he loved you very much. Please accept my sincere condolences.

May you have a long life,

Someone who wishes you well

I was sure I’d misread it. I tried reading it again, but the letters were spiraling around the page like cut glass in a kaleidoscope. Then one word emerged, pulsing from the page: died, died, died. I ran out the door and gyrated dizzily outside the building not knowing which way to turn until I finally collapsed, holding my belly, and rocking on my knees. Tom wrapped his arms around me asking, “What happened? What’s the matter?” I handed him the letter then doubled over again until Tom lifted me up and carried me back inside the building.

He sat beside me on the tattered sofa in the lobby, rubbing my back as I wept uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry. I can’t believe we doubted him. He was the best of us, the only one who really made a difference.”

I caught my breath as the convulsive sobs subsided. “What happened? How did he die? That stupid letter doesn’t tell us anything.”

“I don’t know.” Tears brimmed in Tom’s eyes. “People doing that kind of work keep a low profile and cover their tracks. They don’t want their identities exposed.”

I picked up the envelope from the floor and turned it over, hoping for a clue, a name, an address, anything. But there was nothing but my typed address and two Greek stamps. I handed the envelope to Tom. “Where’s it from? What’s the postmark say?”

I nodded, wiping tears from my eyes. “That doesn’t tell us much. What do you think happened? Is there anyone who’d know?”

He shook his head. “I’ll ask around, but I don’t think so. We aren’t involved in stuff like that.” He held me to his chest and stroked my hair. “We should have a memorial service for him. He’s a hero and we should honor him. I’ll let Nancy know—unless you want to call her yourself.”

I sat up and swallowed hard. It was difficult to talk. “No.” Tears crept down my cheeks. “You call her—and tell her I’m pregnant with his baby.”

Tom flinched, dropping his hand from my hair as he jerked away from me. “I’m sorry, this is too much. You need your mother. I can’t . . . Are you sure?”

I nodded and crossed my hands over my belly. “I’ve been to the doctor. I’m due in July.”

“Yeah, they’ll help me as much as they can, but I can’t go back to Rochester.”

“I can’t go home. Trust me, there’s a lot you don’t know.” I felt as though I’d been knocked down and beaten up, but I managed to stand, find my balance, and make my eyes focus. I looked at Tom. “I’ll be okay. I have to be okay for this baby, but right now I’m going upstairs, take two aspirin and lie down.”

He stood trembling in front of me, as shaken in his way as I was in mine. “Do you need anything? Is there anything I can do?”

“OK, I’ll call later to see how you’re doing, and I’ll let Nancy know about Arcas . . . and the baby.” He kissed the top of my head. “You’re going to get through this.”

As I leaned into him and closed my eyes, he whispered in my ear, “Don’t be afraid. It’s a blessing you’re carrying Arcas’s baby. It means a part of him is still alive.”

THE NEXT FEW months were a blur, but Tom never left my side. It wasn’t love exactly, but it was safety and comfort. We were both desperate for an intimate human connection and turned to one another. It seemed natural and inevitable, and it solved all my most basic problems. We married in March to the delight of my parents who’d fallen in love with Tom before I did. As the legal wife of a Canadian citizen all the doors previously closed to me swung open. I still couldn’t cross the border, but I no longer had to hide in the shadows and my daughter was welcomed into the world by two doting parents.

Amy

Part Two