Dr. Markowitz got to his feet. His smile reappeared. “I wish I could be more help. I hate to see you leave us. You have an excellent record up until now. Maybe you should reconsider the advisability of allowing the pregnancy to go to term.”

“We’re going to have the child,” said Adam. “In fact, now that the shock of it all is over, I’m looking forward to it.”

“When would you start your leave?” asked Dr. Markowitz.

“I’m finishing Internal Medicine in a few days,” said Adam. “As soon as it is over, I’ll look for a job.”

“I suppose if you’re going to take a leave, it is as good a time as any. What do you plan to do?”

Adam shrugged. “I hadn’t made any specific plans.”

“I might be able to get you a research position here at the medical center.”

“I appreciate the offer,” said Adam, “but research doesn’t pay the kind of money I’m going to need. I’ve got to get a job with a decent salary. I was thinking more about trying one of the big drug firms out in New Jersey. Arolen gave our class all those leather doctor bags. Maybe I’ll give them a try.”

Dr. Markowitz flinched as if he’d been struck. “That’s where the money is,” he said, sighing. “But I must say I feel as if you were deserting to the enemy. The pharmaceutical industry has been exerting more and more control over medical research recently, and I for one am legitimately concerned.”

“I’m not wild about the idea,” admitted Adam. “But they are the only people who might be seriously interested in a third-year medical student. If it doesn’t work out, maybe I’ll be back for that research position.”

Dr. Markowitz opened the door. “I’m sorry we don’t have more resources for financial aid. Best of luck, and let me know as soon as you can when you plan to get back to school.”

Adam left, determined to call Arolen that afternoon. He would worry about pharmaceutical pressure on research once he had cashed his first paycheck.

“You’re what!” shouted Jason Conrad, the head of the Jason Conrad Dancers. He threw up his hands in exaggerated despair.

For the four years that Jennifer had known him, Jason had always tended toward histrionics, whether he was ordering lunch or directing the dancers. Consequently, she had anticipated such a reaction.

“Now, let me get this straight,” he moaned. “You’re telling me that you’re going to have a child. Is that right? No, tell me I’m wrong. Tell me that this is just a bad dream. Please!”

Jason looked at Jennifer with a pleading expression. He was a tall man-six feet three-who looked boyish despite his thirty-three years. Whether he was gay or not, Jennifer had no idea. Neither did any of the other dancers. Dance was Jason’s life, and he was a genius at it.

“I’m going to have a baby,” confirmed Jennifer.

“Oh, my God!” cried Jason, letting his head sink into his hands.

Jennifer exchanged glances with Candy, who had hung around for moral support.

“This is not happening to me,” wailed Jason. “At the moment of our big break, one of the lead dancers gets herself pregnant. Oh, my God!”

Jason stopped pacing. Holding up his index finger, he looked at Jennifer. “What about an abortion? Surely this isn’t a planned child.”

“I’m sorry,” said Jennifer.

“But you can always have another child,” protested Jason.

Jennifer just shook her head.

“You won’t listen to reason?” wailed Jason. He pressed a hand dramatically against his chest and began to take deep breaths as if he were experiencing severe chest pain. “You prefer to torture me like this, straining my heart. Oh God, the pain is awful.”

Jennifer felt guilty about getting pregnant just when the troupe was receiving its big break. She hated to let anyone down. But Jason’s response was a selfish one, and she resented his trying to manipulate her this way into something as serious as an abortion.

Candy took Jason’s arm. “I hope you’re kidding about this chest pain.”

Jason opened one eye. “Me kidding? I never kid about something like this. This woman’s driving me to an early grave and you ask if I’m kidding?”

“I can probably dance for another month or so,” offered Jennifer.

“Oh, no, no, no!” said Jason, instantly forgetting his chest pain. He began pacing back and forth in front of the old ticket booth. “If you, Jennifer, are insensitive enough to abandon us at this juncture, we have to make an adjustment immediately.” He stopped and pointed to Candy. “What about you? Could you dance Jennifer’s part?”

Candy was caught off guard. “I don’t know,” she stammered.

Jason watched Jennifer out of the corner of his eye. He knew that Jennifer and Candy were friends. He thought that jealousy might accomplish what reason couldn’t. He needed Jennifer at least until the TV show was taped, but Jennifer did not respond. She remained silent as Candy finally replied, “I guess I’m in good shape. I’ll certainly try and give it my best.”

“Hooray,” said Jason. “It’s good to hear that someone around here is willing to make some sacrifices.” Then to Jennifer he said, “Maybe you should head into the office and have Cheryl take you off the payroll. We aren’t a welfare organization.”

Candy spoke up. “She should get her base salary for another two weeks. That’s only fair.”

Jason waved his hand as if he didn’t care. He started back for the gym floor.

“Also,” called Candy after him, “I think it would be easier for our accounting if we put her on maternity leave.”

“Whatever,” said Jason with little interest. He opened the door into the gym. They could hear the other dancers going through their routines. “Let’s get to work, Candy,” he called over his shoulder as he disappeared through the door.

The two women looked at each other. Both felt a little awkward. Candy shrugged. “I never guessed that he’d offer me a dance position.”

“I’m happy for you,” said Jennifer. “Really.”

Together, they returned to the gym.

Jason’s high-pitched voice reverberated around the large room. “OK, let’s take dance variation number two from the top. Positions!” He clapped his hands and the echo sounded like the report of a gun. “Come on, Candy,” he yelled.

For a few minutes Jennifer watched the rehearsal. Then, trying to shake off her feelings of regret, she headed down the hall to Cheryl’s office.

Cheryl was leaning back, reading a paperback romance novel.

“You’re supposed to put me on maternity leave,” said Jennifer with resignation.

“I’m sorry,” said Cheryl. “Did Jason throw a fit?” She put her book down. Jennifer could see the title: The Flames of Passion.

“One of his best,” admitted Jennifer. “But I suppose it’s understandable. This is a bad time for me to take a leave.” She sank into the chair in front of the desk. “Jason agreed to let me draw base pay for another two weeks. Of course, I still get my percentages from past performances.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Cheryl.

“I don’t know,” said Jennifer. “Maybe I can get a temporary job. Do you have any ideas? How did you find this position?”

“I went to an agency,” said Cheryl. “But if you’re looking for part-time work, try one of the temporary secretarial services. They always need people.”

“I couldn’t type to save my life,” said Jennifer.

“Then try one of the big department stores. A lot of my girlfriends have done that.”

Jennifer smiled. That sounded promising.

“Are you still going to come with me tomorrow?” asked Cheryl.

“Absolutely,” said Jennifer. “I wouldn’t think of letting you go by yourself. Were you alone when you had the amniocentesis?”

“Yup,” said Cheryl proudly. “It was a breeze. Hardly hurt at all.”

“Sounds like you have more courage than I,” said Jennifer. Jennifer thought again about her mongoloid brother and wondered if she should ask to have the test.