“I’ve got plenty of questions,” said Jennifer. “But I realize that it is useless to ask them. I wonder if you realize how much like your father you are.”

“Just shut up about my father,” shouted Adam. “If anybody around here is going to criticize my father, I’ll do it. Besides, I’m not like my father in the slightest.”

He kicked the bedroom door shut with a bang. For a moment he stood in the middle of the living room, wondering what he could break. Then, instead of doing something stupid, he finished dressing and drying his hair. Calmer, he decided to try and make peace with Jennifer. He started to open the bedroom door and was shocked to find it locked.

“Jennifer,” he called over the sound of the TV. “I’m going to go out and get something to eat. I’d like you to go with me.”

“You go ahead,” called Jennifer. “I want to stay by myself for a while.”

Adam could tell that she’d been crying and he felt guilty.

“Jennifer, open the door,” he begged. The TV played on. “Jennifer, open the door.”

Still no answer. Adam felt his anger return in a rush. Stepping back, he eyed the door. For a second it seemed symbolic of all his problems. Without thinking, he raised his right foot and kicked with all his strength. The wood around the latch gave, and the door flew open, crashing against the bedroom wall. Jennifer drew herself up in a tight ball against the headboard.

Adam could tell that she was terrified, and he immediately felt stupid. “They don’t make doors the way they used to,” he said lamely and tried to laugh. Jennifer didn’t say anything. Adam pulled the door away from the wall. Where the doorknob had struck, there was a hole in the plaster.

“Well, that was stupid,” he said, trying to sound cheerful. “Anyway, as I was saying. Let’s go out and get something to eat.”

Jennifer shook her head no.

Adam looked around self-consciously, embarrassed by his tantrum. “OK,” he said meekly. “I’ll be back later.”

Jennifer nodded but didn’t speak. She watched Adam leave and heard the door to the hall close and lock. What was happening to them, she wondered. Adam seemed like a different person. He’d never been violent, and violence terrified her. Was this pregnancy going to change everything?

Climbing the third and final flight of stairs in Cheryl Tedesco’s apartment building, Jennifer was appalled. She’d thought her own building was bad, but Cheryl’s made it seem like the Helmsley Palace. A couple of winos-Jennifer hoped they were not residents-had camped in the lobby.

Checking the number on Cheryl’s apartment, Jennifer hesitated before knocking. Then she had to wait while there were a number of clicks and finally the sound of the chain being moved before the door swung open.

“Hi! Come on in,” said Cheryl. “Sorry it took me so long. My dad insisted on putting on all sorts of locks.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” said Jennifer, quickly stepping inside. Cheryl went into the bathroom to finish dressing while Jennifer looked about the unkempt apartment.

“I hope you followed doctor’s orders,” she called, knowing that Cheryl had been advised not to have food or drink save for a small amount of water when she first woke up.

“I haven’t eaten a thing,” yelled Cheryl.

Jennifer shifted her weight from one foot to another. Sensing that the entire building was filthy, she didn’t want to sit down. The whole idea of accompanying Cheryl was beginning to upset her, but she couldn’t let her go alone. At least she’d get to see the fabulous Dr. Foley, though she wasn’t about to challenge Adam about obstetricians just yet. They had half made up the night before, but Jennifer was still distraught at the thought of Adam leaving medical school. She had her fingers crossed that this interview at Arolen would be unsuccessful.

“Ready,” said Cheryl, emerging from the bedroom. She had an overnight bag slung over her shoulder. “Let’s get the show on the road.”

The hardest part of the trip to the Julian Clinic was climbing down Cheryl’s stairs without falling and then getting by the winos. Cheryl was unconcerned about the bums, saying that when the super got up he’d send them packing.

They walked to the Lexington Avenue subway and caught the No. 6 train to 110th Street. It wasn’t the greatest neighborhood, but it quickly improved the closer they got to the clinic. In fact, an entire city block had been leveled to accommodate the new health-care center. The building was a fifteen-story contemporary structure of mirrored glass, reflecting the image of the surrounding early nineteenth-century tenements. For a block in all directions, the old buildings had been renovated, sandblasted, and refurbished so that they shone with quaint splendor. And for another block beyond that, many of the buildings were fronted by scaffolding, indicating that they too were being repaired. It appeared as if the clinic was taking over a whole section of the city.

Jennifer went through the front entrance expecting the usual hospital furnishings but was pleasantly surprised by a lobby that reminded her more of a luxury hotel. Everything was new and spotlessly clean. The large reception area was so well staffed that Jennifer and Cheryl did not have to wait long before a pretty black secretary said, “May I help you?” She was dressed in a white blouse and blue jumper and wore a name tag that said “Hi! I’m Louise.”

Cheryl’s answer was barely audible. “I’m to see Dr. Foley. I’m to have an abortion.”

Louise’s face clouded over with concern. “Are you all right, Ms…”

“Tedesco,” said Jennifer. “Cheryl Tedesco.”

“I’m fine,” insisted Cheryl. “Really I am.”

“We have psychologists on call for admitting if you’d like to talk to one now. We’d like to make you as comfortable as possible.”

“Thank you,” said Cheryl. “But I have my friend here.” She pointed to Jennifer. “I wanted to ask if she will be permitted to go upstairs with me.”

“Absolutely,” said Louise. “We encourage patients to have company. But first let me call up your record on my computer and then alert the admitting people. Why don’t you two go over to the lounge and relax. We’ll be with you in just a few minutes.”

As Cheryl and Jennifer walked around to the comfortable sitting area, Jennifer said, “I’m beginning to understand why you and Candy are so high on this place. If Louise is any example of how they treat you here, I’m truly impressed.”

They barely had time to slip out of their coats when an elderly gentleman approached them, pushing a cart with a coffee and tea dispenser. He was dressed in a pink jacket, which he proudly stated was worn by volunteers.

“Are the nurses this friendly, too?” asked Jennifer.

“Everybody is friendly here,” said Cheryl, but despite her smile, Jennifer could tell that she was anxious.

“How are you doing?” she asked, reaching over and squeezing Cheryl’s hand.

“Fine,” said Cheryl, nodding her head up and down as if trying to convince herself.

“Excuse me, are you Cheryl Tedesco?” asked another pleasant-looking young woman dressed in a white shirt with a blue jumper. Her name tag said “Hi! I’m Karen.”

“I’m Karen Krinitz,” she said, offering a hand which Cheryl shook uncertainly. “I’ve been assigned to coordinate your case and to make sure everything runs smoothly. If you have any problems, just page me.” She patted a small plastic device clipped over a blue belt that matched her jumper. “We want your stay here to be as pleasant as possible.”

“Are all the patients assigned a coordinator?” asked Jennifer.

“They certainly are,” said Karen proudly. “The whole idea here is that the patient comes first. We don’t want to leave anything to chance. There is too much opportunity for misunderstanding, especially now that medicine has become so highly technical. Doctors can sometimes become so engrossed in the treatment that the patient is momentarily forgotten. It’s our job to keep that from happening.”