"You girls and your secret marriages," the doctor said. "If I had a daughter who did that I'd never forgive her."

What kind of father can't forgive his daughter? She was glad he wasn't her father. She believed Baba would forgive her anything. It was Mama she was worried about.

Dr. Stra.s.ser took out the speculum and felt around inside her with his hand, pressing down, making her even more uncomfortable. The nurse told her to breathe.

"I don't see any evidence of a miscarriage. Everything looks fine. Would you like me to fit you for a diaphragm, Mrs...."

"McKittrick," Christina said, trying it out. "And yes, I'd like a diaphragm." She was so glad she'd read up on her choices last night. "Do you have your husband's approval to use birth control?"

Her husband's approval? "Yes."

"If you use it properly-and that means every time-you shouldn't have to worry about being pregnant until you want to be."

After she was dressed and seated in his office, he said, "I see you're from Elizabeth."

She nodded.

"Plane Crash City."

"We don't call it that." She knew people who weren't from Elizabeth did. Wasn't there a story in the paper about letters to the editor addressed to Plane Crash City, New Jersey?

"Terrible," he said. "A tragedy."

"Three tragedies. And I saw two of them."

He looked up. "That would give you more than enough anxiety to miss your period."

"Yes."

"Newark Airport being closed is a real pain in the neck for me. Every time I want to fly to a conference or take a vacation I'll have to shlep into New York, all the way to LaGuardia or Idlewild."

"I'm sorry," Christina said.

He laughed. "You're a nice girl, Mrs. McKittrick. Good luck in your marriage."

"Thank you, Dr. Stra.s.ser."

"And don't forget. Every time."

"What?"

"The diaphragm. It doesn't work if you don't use it."

- SHE ASKED HER PARENTS if she could invite Jack to the house, just to say h.e.l.lo. "He rescued all those people from the burning plane."

Mama and Baba looked at each other.

"We're friends."

"They're friends," Baba said to Mama.

Later, when the doorbell rang, Athena answered. "h.e.l.lo, Jack."

"h.e.l.lo, Athena."

"We were in the same year at school," Athena explained to Mama and Baba.

"And now?" Baba asked Jack. "What do you do now?"

"Now I'm an electrician, sir."

"Your parents are living?" Mama asked.

"I'm afraid not, Mrs. Demetrious."

"Family is everything," Mama said.

"Yes, it is," Jack said.

"You understand our Christina is precious to us," Baba said.

"Yes, sir."

"And she will marry a Greek boy someday. You understand that, too?"

"I understand your wishes for your daughter, sir. And I respect them."

"Good," Baba said.

Mama grabbed hold of Baba's arm, as if to steady herself.

Athena tried to hide a smile.

- THAT NIGHT they made love using both her new diaphragm and a rubber, because she wasn't sure she was using the diaphragm correctly. She found it complicated and messy. First you had to put in the jelly and rub it around, making sure you got enough over the rim, then you had to squeeze it together and insert it into your v.a.g.i.n.a, getting it up far enough. She'd been practicing in her room at night. When she pulled it out she had to wash it, pat it dry and store it in its case, something else she'd have to hide, or maybe Jack would keep it. Yes, that would make sense. She supposed she'd get used to it. She supposed it would get easier. They were going to be married for a long time and she didn't want to be pregnant every year like Mrs. O'Malley's daughter, who'd already had five babies. But she still wasn't relaxed about going all the way. She supposed she had to give it some time.

Elizabeth Daily Post

ROSENBERGS GET Pa.s.sOVER VISIT.

APRIL 9 (UPI)-Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, sentenced to die for transmitting A-bomb secrets to the Soviet Union, received a pre-Pa.s.sover visit at Sing Sing prison from their 5- and 9-year-old sons. Meanwhile, following today's denial of their last plea to the Court of Appeals, the couple's lawyer said that he would be filing an appeal with the United States Supreme Court.

29.

Miri Twice a week Miri sent a card to Natalie at the Watchung Hills Children's Home. Heard you were under the weather. Well, come on out! Miri wasn't sure Natalie would find any of the cards funny. Half the time she wasn't sure they were funny. Sometimes she'd include a little note, trying to keep it light, something about school, or about a TV show. Uncle Miltie dressed as Carmen Miranda Tuesday night. He wore a hat loaded with bananas, pineapples and grapes. My mother laughed so hard she almost didn't make it to the bathroom in time. She'd bought all the cards at once at the Ritz Book Shop, along with a copy of Seventeenth Summer. She and Natalie had read it together, at the beginning of eighth grade, and Miri hoped when and if she had the chance to give it to her, it would remind Natalie of their friendship, because Natalie didn't answer any of Miri's cards or notes.

Irene suggested inviting Mason to their Seder on the first night of Pa.s.sover, surprising Miri. Miri wore her new patent-leather slingbacks. Mason brought lilacs for Irene. They all missed Henry and Leah, who had gone to visit Leah's parents. But Miss Rheingold was there and Blanche Kessler from the Red Cross with her family and Ben Sapphire.

Corinne called a few days later, another surprise, saying if Miri would like to see Natalie she would pick her up at school the next afternoon, if that was convenient for her.

That night Miri wrapped the copy of Seventeenth Summer and tied it with one of the ribbons from Irene's collection. "She doesn't know you're coming," Corinne said on the drive to Watchung. "She doesn't want anyone to see her in this place but the doctors think it might be good for her to begin to reconnect to the outside world."

"Is she coming home soon?"

"Maybe in time for graduation. Just act as if nothing's changed. As if you're still best friends."

Aren't we still best friends? Miri thought, though she didn't say it aloud.

The Watchung Hills Children's Home, a big white house, sat on a hill surrounded by tall trees. The azaleas were in bloom. The gra.s.s was very green.

Inside, the halls were filled with music and children's laughter.

Corinne stopped outside Room 218. She knocked on the door before turning the k.n.o.b. "Everyone decent?" She didn't wait for a reply.

Miri hung back, anxious, not sure what she'd find inside the room.

"Nat...look who's here!" Corinne called, stepping back to make room for Miri. "I'll leave you two alone to catch up," she said brightly, as if there were nothing unusual about Miri visiting Natalie in this place. Then she disappeared.

From the look on Natalie's face, first surprise, then anger followed by disgust or maybe embarra.s.sment, Miri could see Natalie didn't want her there any more than she wanted to be there.

"Hi," Miri said, trying to make her voice sound as bright as Corinne's.

"Hi."

"I'm glad you're feeling better."

"I'm alive, if that's what you mean." Natalie's voice had an edge to it.

In the other bed someone was sleeping. She had the covers pulled up so high almost her whole head and face were covered. One arm lay outstretched, attached to tubes.

Natalie was wearing regular clothes-dungarees, a shirt and a bulky cardigan sweater. She didn't look any different to Miri than she had that day she went cuckoo in the bas.e.m.e.nt. Well, maybe a little better than that, but not much.

"You were there that day, right?" Natalie asked.

"Which day?"

"That day I went to the hospital."

"Oh, that day."

"You'll never believe who my nurse was."

"Who?"

"Phyllis Kirk's mother."

"Phyllis Kirk, the actress?"

"Yes, isn't that something? And she told me Phyllis is up for a big part in a Vincent Price movie. And it's going to be in 3-D."

"What does that mean?" Miri asked.

"I'm not sure."

Now the figure in the other bed sat up. She was so thin Miri was sure she'd been in a concentration camp. Next to her Natalie seemed almost healthy. Natalie, at least, had some color in her cheeks.

The skeleton said, "You have to wear special gla.s.ses and it looks like things are jumping out at you."

"How do you know?" Miri asked.

The girl shrugged.

"Lulu knows a lot," Natalie said.

So, the skeleton had a name.

"How come they let you see a friend?" Lulu asked Natalie.

"I don't know," Natalie said.

"Friends can make you feel worse about yourself," Lulu said.

"I don't want to do that," Miri told her.

"You don't want to, but you might anyway."

"Should I go?" Miri asked, hoping the answer was yes.

"Why don't you just shut up for once, Lulu?" Natalie said.

Lulu laughed. "So are you from Plane Crash City, too?" she asked Miri, swooping her free arm around like a plane taking off, then coming straight down, onto her bed. "Boom!"