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“Here, honey.” Sandra was handing her a cloth. “Rinse out your mouth and wash your face. You’ll feel better.” She turned. “I’ll get you a soda. Sometimes it helps.”

It seemed she was being forced to accept help from another unlikely source. First, Teresa. Now, Sandra. “I can get it.”

“I know you can. But let me do it.”

What had gotten into Sandra? The last thing Eve wanted was to have Sandra fussing over her.

She’d get bored soon. Just drink the soda, and she’d go away. Eve washed her mouth and face and went back into the living room.

“Sit down,” Sandra said as she handed her the can of soda. “Drink it slow, honey.”

“You can go to bed now, Sandra.”

“I know I can. I could leave you alone.” Sandra sat down. “But I don’t want to do that.” She folded her hands nervously on her lap. “Maybe I leave you alone too much. But you never seem to need me. Even when you were little, you were so strong, stronger than me.” She paused. “I’m not a good mother to you, Eve. My folks kicked me out when I got pregnant, and having a kid was just too much for me.”

“It’s all right. I never did need you. I could take care of myself.”

“But can you do it now? I remember how I felt when—” She drew a deep breath and her hands clasped even tighter. “You’re going to have a baby, aren’t you?”

Shock. She had not expected Sandra to be observant enough to jump to that conclusion. “Why do you think that?”

“You’re sick. You’re never sick.” She paused. “And last week I noticed one of my birth-control discs was missing. You took it, didn’t you?”

She nodded slowly.

“That was my prescription, Eve. It might not have been strong enough for you. Or maybe it won’t work unless you take it for a couple weeks first. I’ve been on them so long that I don’t remember. If you’d come and asked me, I’d have told you it might not work well for you.”

But she would never have gone to Sandra. Dear God, she had thought by not trusting John, she was protecting herself in the best possible way. Eve closed her eyes, and whispered, “You’ve been taking them all these years. I thought I’d be safe.”

“Are you going to have a baby, Eve?” Sandra repeated.

Eve wanted to deny it. She wanted to deny it to Sandra and herself and the whole world. But she had to accept it, deal with it. She couldn’t hide in the dark forever. She said jerkily, “Yes, I … think so.”

“Oh, honey.” Tears were glittering in Sandra’s eyes. “I was hoping I was wrong. That handsome young man who helped me?”

“Yes.”

“How does he feel about it? Does he want to marry you?”

“Marry? He doesn’t care for me that way. Because I’m pregnant? It wasn’t that kind of— He doesn’t know. I won’t tell him. He’s gone away. Chances are that I may not see him again.”

“Then you’re alone,” Sandra said. “The way I was when I had you.”

She nodded jerkily. “Yes, isn’t it funny?” She added the bitter words that had so upset her, “Like mother, like daughter.”

Sandra reached out a tentative hand and touched Eve’s arm. “I can help you. I’ll take you to that Planned Parenthood Clinic tomorrow and sign all the papers. You don’t have to have this baby.”

Abortion. It was everyone’s first thought.

“My folks wouldn’t sign the permission, and I was only fifteen. They said I had to take responsibility for my sins. I was so scared … I don’t want you to be scared like that, Eve.”

She was scared right now. But not of having the child itself. It was giving up all her dreams of digging herself out of this slum. The fear of repeating all the mistakes of her mother and everyone around them.

And she had already started that cycle.

She had been so confident that if she was careful and worked hard, she could have it all.

She had not been careful enough, and it might destroy her.

Unless she destroyed the child she and John Gallo had created from that passion that had seemed worth any risk.

No.

The rejection was so strong that she felt almost ill again.

“Eve?” Sandra’s gaze was on her face. “It’s the only thing to do, honey. Believe me, I know how hard it is to raise a kid. It drains you…” She added quickly, “Not that you weren’t a sweet little baby. But toting you and picking you up from charity day-care centers. Working for minimum wage just to eat. It never seemed to stop. Everyone needs a little fun in their life.”

And that scared fifteen-year-old girl maybe more than others. Eve had never realized how vulnerable Sandra had been all those years of Eve’s childhood. “I’ll think about it, Sandra.”

“You do that.” She stood up. “We’ll talk about it in the morning. I’ll be ready to go with you.” She headed for the bedroom. “Then maybe we’ll stop and have lunch. If you have enough money. I’m broke again. Money just seems to run right through my fingers.”

On dope. But Sandra hadn’t seemed to be on anything that night. Or if she had, it hadn’t been obvious. She had been sincere and gentle, and if Eve hadn’t been so upset, she would have been touched.

She was touched, she realized. Admit it. She was only trying to harden her heart to Sandra because she’d been hurt so many times before. Strange, she didn’t usually admit that Sandra could hurt her, even to herself. Maybe she felt a kinship because of the baby she was carrying. But how could that be when the child wasn’t even real to her yet?

She wouldn’t tear this feeling apart and examine it. She had needed someone, and Sandra had been there. It hadn’t happened for years. Maybe that had been partly her fault. She had withdrawn from Sandra when she had realized that she couldn’t trust her to be there for her. How long ago? She couldn’t remember.

And she didn’t want to think about Sandra just then. It was time she stopped sitting in the dark and feeling sorry for herself. She had to make a choice whether to give up and let life run over her as it had Sandra or fight back.

There was no choice. She would rather step in front of a train than let herself be beaten down by what had happened to her. She had to find a way to cope.

All right, sit still. Let herself get over the shock and pain of what had happened to her first.

No. Nothing had “happened” to her. She couldn’t blame anyone, not even fate. She had been so dizzy with the need for him that she hadn’t been thinking clearly and coolly as she usually did. She had done this herself by lust and stupidity and overconfidence. Accept it and go on.

And try desperately to find a way out of this web that was about to smother her.

*   *   *

EVE HAD ALREADY SHOWERED and dressed the next morning by the time Sandra wandered into the living room.

“Not sick? You must have slept. You look better than me.” Sandra yawned. “But then I never was a morning person.”

“There’s orange juice in the fridge,” Eve said. “No bacon. But you can make toast. No, I’ll make it while you get dressed.”

“You’re in a hurry.” Sandra looked at her. “Those Planned Parenthood offices don’t open until after nine, Eve. We’ve got time.”

“I’m not going to have an abortion.” She put bread in the toaster. “But I still need you to go to school with me and see the guidance counselor.”

“Eve, you don’t know what it’s like to have to take care of a baby. You need to—”

“No, I don’t know. But I may find out.” She got out the orange juice. “Or maybe not. I haven’t decided if I’m going to put the baby up for adoption. It might be better for both of us. If I don’t see a way out for us, I won’t bring the baby into the same situation that trapped both of us, Sandra.”

“That could work,” Sandra said. “But it would be hard for you. Look what kind of mess Rosa Desprando is going through. She should have given up Manuel.”

“That’s what her father says.” She set the orange juice on the table. “But I’m not Rosa, and I’ll make up my own mind. I’m going to get through this.”

“An abortion would—”

“No, Sandra. I may not be practical, but I can’t do it. I’m not going to make a kid pay for my mistake.”