Were they in denial? Absolutely. But the alternative was worse.

After dinner, Susan sent Lily off to study. Life doesn't stop. You have exams in January. Yes, it does matter, even if you're going to Percy State. You can't let your grades slide.

Lily went upstairs, leaving Susan to think about college, which might have to be postponed if the baby was sick. PC KidsCare couldn't take a sick child, and, besides, Lily wouldn't want to leave the baby there if he had special needs. Mention of special needs sparked a new round of worries. Susan's health insurance was good, but was it good enough? Special education in Zaganack was good, but, again, was it good enough? And what did she know of Jane LaBreia, beyond an impressive wall of diplomas? And hospitals? The local one didn't have an NICU, which was a must for CDH babies. Most of them had surgery at birth-and Lily would have a cesarean herself, which meant a longer recovery.

By the time Susan drove back to school for the Christmas concert, she had worked herself into a panic. Had it not been for the likes of Evan Brewer, George Abbott, and Duncan Haith, she might have stayed home, but making a public appearance seemed crucial. She chatted, she smiled, she moved through the crowd, and made it through three-quarters of the program before slipping out. While she shivered in the cold waiting for her car to heat up, her panic returned.

That was when she called Rick, and while she thought she would be the one to lose it, he was. Why didn't you call me yesterday? I'm her father! Do not treat this casually, Susan. It's a serious problem. The barrage of questions that followed were more detailed than she could answer, and she grew more upset-the upshot of which was that Rick grew more calm. No sweat, honey, he finally said. I'll get the answers. This is my specialty.

She listened. She believed. She was actually feeling better by the time she got home, which was when she called Kate.

Chapter 21

Kate was still struggling with the idea that Mary Kate would be stuck at Percy State, that car seats and diapers would be back, that there would be another mouth to feed at a time when her sons were still eating everything in sight. The house was supposed to feel bigger as children moved out. She and Will were supposed to finally have we time.

But her self-pity came to a halt with Susan's call. She listened with growing horror before finally saying, "I was sure it'd be a false alarm." When Susan told her about the amnio, she was quick to agree. "You're doing the right thing. The more info you have, the better. What can I do to help?"

"Call Sunny and Pam? They need to know, but I don't have it in me to phone."

Kate wasn't sure if she did either, but she said, "Consider it done."

Sunny was lying in bed reading Martha Stewart Living. Home decor magazines were a must for her work; they gave her ideas, often determining what she ordered for the store. But there were personal reasons as well. She loved changing the look of a room with a single item-loved plotting how to make her own home look like the site of A-list events. Right now, the house was dressed for Christmas, but that would change soon. There was nothing worse than a balsam fir whose time had come and gone.

Actually, she modified that thought, one thing was worse. Nurseries. Whenever she flipped a page and saw plans for a nursery, she flipped the page again. She refused to make any nursery in the house. She wasn't giving up the guest bedroom, where Dan's parents occasionally stayed, or the den, where she could watch her TV programs. If Jessica wanted a baby, she could keep it in her own room. Period. Cap P.

Actually, Sunny was thinking of setting the girl up in an apartment in town. It didn't have to be big, didn't have to cost much. It certainly wouldn't be the kind of exile Susan's parents had imposed. They would see each other. Just not all the time.

The phone rang. Dropping the magazine, she picked up to hear Kate conveying the news about Lily.

"Poor Susan," she wailed. "To have this on top of everything else? Nightmare. Is there a chance Lily will lose the baby?"

"A lot depends on how bad the CDH gets."

"And what the amnio turns up," Sunny realized with growing horror. "Can you imagine going through all this and then having the baby die?" And Sunny was worried about being embarrassed? Realizing that, she felt suddenly shallow, self-absorbed-petty. "What can I do to help?"

"Call Pam."

Petty was one thing, masochistic another. "Anything but that. Pam hasn't called me, and besides, I have a better idea. I'll cook. Susan shouldn't have to think about dinner while she's going through this. I'll organize a group of people, and we'll rotate. My bake sale friends would love to help out."

"Too soon," Kate cautioned, "but hold the thought. Let's see where this goes."


***

Pam had fallen asleep on the bedroom chaise, but woke up fast when the phone rang. Grabbing it, she hurried out to the hall so that she wouldn't disturb Tanner and, even then, she spoke in a hushed voice.

"Susan?"

"It's Kate. I told Susan I'd call. She's beat."

Pam had been hoping Susan would call herself; it was about needing to know they were still friends. She wanted to distance herself from the three pregnancies, not from Susan, but it was a tricky dance. She feared she was missing the steps.

When Kate gave her the message, though, she could understand why Susan hadn't called. "How awful," she said. "So they just have to wait?"

"Pretty much. They'll do the amnio Monday, and they'll put a rush on getting the results, but with this hitting at the holidays, there may be a delay."

"Some Christmas for Susan and Lily. They're spending it with you, aren't they?"

"I was counting on it, but Susan's talking about staying home."

"Just the two of them? Not a good idea. They'll only brood. We're having Christmas dinner at my mother-in-law's house, or I'd invite them to join us. Not that Susan would want to," she added. "It could be awkward."

"Awkward for her or for you?" Kate asked.

"I'll forget you said that."

"No, Pam. Here's the thing. Right now, Susan needs support. You're either with her or not."

"Oh, Kate," Pam tried to explain, "it isn't about me. It's about being a Perry. There are expectations."

"Change them. Tanner didn't marry an airhead. He married a woman who has ideas and maybe a few loyalties of her own. Stand up for them."

"I do. Some subjects are just more sensitive."

"Hey, I know you hate it that our girls are pregnant, but did you ever think that maybe there was a time last summer when Abby wanted to be, too? If that had happened, you'd be singing a different tune."

"I'm not singing any tune," Pam said quickly, fearing Kate might be right and hurrying past the thought. "I'm not happy about what's happened any more than you are. I don't like that the school board is turning on Susan. I don't like that her job's in danger. I don't like that people are criticizing her as a mother, because if she's a bad one, so am I. I can't get Abby to talk, but I know she's unhappy. She misses being with your kids-and I miss being with you-but you're putting me right in the middle."

"No," Kate reasoned. "You've done that yourself. You see this great divide between being a Perry and being with us, but why do you have to choose? Why can't you tell Tanner how you feel? Why can't you tell Abby what you feel? I mean, you are on the school board, Pam. That gives you power."

"My name got me there." She hated to say it. But it was the truth.

"Fine," Kate cried, "but you are there, so you can say what you want. Do you agree with the old men on the board?"

"No."

"Tell them that."

Pam sighed. Quietly, she said, "I may, but right now, what can I do for Susan?"

"Get off the fence!"

Get off the phone, Pam told herself instead. "Okay, Kate. I hear you. Thanks for calling. I'll talk with Susan myself. Bye."

She hung up before Kate could say another word, but the silence mocked her. Needing to break it, she went down the hall into Abby's wing. A sliver of light under the door said the girl was still up. With a little knock, Pam turned the knob.

The first thing she saw was a blond ponytail. It swung when Abby glanced up from her desk.

Approaching, Pam leaned over her shoulder. "Spanish test?"

"After vacation. I was bored. It seemed like a good thing to do now."

Pam could identify with that. How often did she knit for lack of anything better to do?