"No."

Pam didn't think so. Her daughter had been on the field hockey team with Lily, but the season was over, and Abby wasn't into volleyball. Pam had suggested she write for the school paper or join the yearbook staff, but Abby turned up her nose at both ideas.

"How was school?"

"Okay. Did you see the Gazette?"

"Did you?" Pam asked in surprise.

"You couldn't miss it. Everyone was passing it around. I mean, that editorial went after our principal. Poor Susan. How's she doing?"

"Good," Pam said, though she hadn't talked with her all week. They used to go to the gym together, but that hadn't happened in a while either. Susan was busy, and Pam was walking a fine line, not quite sure of the smartest position to take. "Susan's a survivor. How's Lily?"

"Good," Abby answered, echoing Pam's breezy tone, which made her wonder.

"Have you talked with her?"

"No, but I see her around. So, Mom, I was thinking maybe I'd go out for the Drama Club."

"You want to act?" Pam asked in surprise.

"I was thinking of set design."

"Don't the art classes handle that?"

"They need direction. Remember when we saw Dirty Dancing onstage? The set was amazing. Our productions don't come close."

"Yuh." Pam laughed. "One's professional, one isn't. One has millions to spend, one has nothing."

"Creativity doesn't have to break the bank. Isn't that what Dad always says? I'm creative. I've also seen more real theater than the other kids. I could be a liaison between the classes and the club-like you are with PC Wool." She looked sideways at Pam. "You're still doing that, aren't you?"

"I am PC Wool-well, a quarter of it. Why do you even ask?"

"You haven't been there on Saturdays." Her voice was cautious. "Is it hard for you after what I did?"

"No, no," Pam said. "I've just had other things to do. But I'm going this Saturday. We're finalizing the spring line." Her daughter was looking out the window. "What about you? Is it hard for you at school?"

"No way," Abby said a little too quickly. "I have other friends."

"But you were so close to the others." She took the ramp onto the highway. "I keep thinking about that, Abby. You were with them last summer when they hatched this idea. You must have heard them talking about it."

"No. They must've talked to each other at night."

"And they didn't mention it to you once? Not even hypothetically?"

"I told you," Abby stated crossly. "I am not in their inner circle."

"You came pretty close."

"So?"

"Nothing," Pam said quietly. She didn't want to argue. "I was just wondering. Do you wish you were pregnant, too?"

"Are you kidding? They're pariahs. They sit by themselves in the lunchroom."

"Maybe you should go over and break the ice."

"Oh yeah, and look what happened last time I did. Jess yelled at me for outing Lily, and now I've outed Mary Kate and Jess. I didn't mean to do that. It just happened. I was upset."

"Because they hadn't included you in their plans?"

Abby opened her mouth to answer, then glared at Pam. "You think I was."

Pam backpedaled. "No. I'm just curious, like everyone else. Were they talking about boys last summer?"

"We all talk about boys."

"Who was Lily talking about?" When Abby sent her a withering look, she didn't push. "Well, at least you're on the pill."

The girl didn't reply.

"Mary Kate was on the pill but stopped taking it," Pam said.

Abby turned the stare on her. "Mom. I am not pregnant. I am not trying to get pregnant. For all I know, it wouldn't happen even if I did try."

"Why do you say that?"

"Look at you."

"I had no trouble getting pregnant."

"But you were pregnant, like, six times and miscarried all of them except me. I mean, don't you think I know things like that are genetic-and anyway, your questions are really annoying. I've told you I didn't know. Isn't that enough?"

Pam was subdued. "I'm trying to be a good mother."

"By bugging me?"

"By talking." They were on the highway now, cruising at the speed limit. It required little concentration, allowing Pam to focus on what she should or should not say. The older Abby got, the trickier it was. "Mothers talk when they want to know what's happening in their daughters' lives. Maybe if the other mothers had done it, this wouldn't have happened."

"They talk."

"Not enough, I guess. But who am I to criticize them? If you had decided to get pregnant, I wouldn't have known."

Abby was quiet. Finally, sadly, she said, "Well, I think Susan's a good mother. You should give her a call. She's the best friend you have."

I could say the same about you and Lily, Pam might have replied if the sadness hadn't been contagious. She did miss seeing Susan. Susan was sensible and practical. When she set her mind to something, she did it. Same with the others, actually. Each of them dealt with challenges-Susan raising Lily alone, Kate managing five kids, Sunny living with Dan.

And here was Pam Perry, watching Regis and Kelly while everyone else went to work. She might make a phone call or two relating to school board business, might get dressed and meander to Tanner's office, might make another call or two from there.

Would anyone miss hearing her voice if she didn't call? Would anyone wonder where she was if she stayed in bed for the day?

Certainly not Susan, Sunny, or Kate, as long as Pam kept up her end of PC Wool. She just wished she knew how the pregnancies were going to play with the town. She didn't want to end up on the wrong side of public opinion.

Chapter 15

Susan couldn't escape the Gazette. It lay in the faculty lounge, open to the editorial, for all to see. It was in the lunchroom, with students huddled behind it. When she stopped at the barn later that day, it was in the trash, but by the time she got home, it had risen again. Lily had it open and was rip-roaring mad.

"He's attacking you!" she cried before Susan had barely closed the door. "That's what this is all about. 'Erosion of family values'? He's angry because you're not married, and because you're the principal and you're twenty years younger than he is. He's angry because you didn't give his daughter A's."

Susan couldn't disagree. George Abbott had three daughters, the youngest of whom she had taught several years before being named principal. The girl was a mediocre student; George had been in to talk with Susan more than once about grades that he thought should have been higher. Understandably, given his job as editor in chief of the Gazette, he believed that his daughter should be a good writer-and Susan believed that she was. The girl's problem was attitude. And if that attitude produced a C, what could Susan do?

George hadn't voiced outrage when Susan was named principal. But he had written an editorial that spent an undue amount of time praising the runners-up for the job. It concluded, Times have changed, and our schools need to keep pace. It's possible that the elevation of Ms. Tate will put us back in the forefront. But she is young and inexperienced. It remains to be seen whether she's up to the task.

"And how dare he suggest that we don't value family?" Lily went on. "It's because I do that I'm having a baby."

Susan dropped her coat and bag. Quietly, she said, "Well now, you're doing exactly what he accuses you of-defining family values to suit yourself." Closing the paper as she passed-unable to bear having it open in her home-she went into the den.

Lily followed. "But who's saying his definition is the right one? Maybe there is more than one definition."

"Maybe," Susan said. Sinking to the sofa, she leaned back.

"Mom? Aren't you angry?"

"Right now, I'm exhausted. It's been that kind of week."

Lily looked momentarily stricken. "I'm sorry. I didn't know this would happen."

"Would it have changed anything if you had?"

"I'd have had second thoughts. I wouldn't knowingly cause you this… this…"

"Public humiliation?"

Lily was silent, then impassioned. "You have to do something. You have to fight this."

"What do you suggest?"

"For starters, talk with Dr. Correlli. I thought he was friends with George Abbott."

"For the record, Lily-just so you know-I did talk with Dr. Correlli. He spoke with George Abbott last weekend and asked him not to do an article on this-and, in fairness, he didn't. He wrote a one-sided editorial instead. But there are many in town who agree with him."

"I'll bet there are many more who don't. You need to write a rebuttal."