Jennifer watched as the woman said good-bye and disappeared around a planter. There was something about her that Jennifer found strange, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“Did her speech seem odd to you?” she asked Cheryl.

“I didn’t understand what she was talking about. Is that what you mean?”

“No,” said Jennifer, turning to see if she could catch sight of the woman again. “I just thought there was something odd about the way she talked. But it must be me. I think morning sickness is affecting my brain.”

“At least she was friendly,” said Cheryl. “Wait until you meet Dr. Foley.”

A few minutes later a man came by and introduced himself as Rodney Murray. He was wearing a blue jacket made of the same heavy cotton as Karen’s jumper with an identical tag announcing his name. His voice also had an odd flat quality, and as Jennifer stared at him, she realized that his eyes did not seem to blink.

“Everything is ready for you, Ms. Tedesco,” he said, fastening a plastic ID bracelet around Cheryl’s wrist. “I’ll be accompanying you upstairs, but first we have to go to the lab for your blood work and a few other tests.”

“Can Jennifer come with us?” asked Cheryl.

“Absolutely,” said Rodney.

The man was extraordinarily attentive to Cheryl, and after a few minutes Jennifer dismissed her initial impression as the working of an overwrought imagination.

The lab was expecting Cheryl, so they didn’t have to wait. Again, Jennifer was impressed. She’d never been to a doctor’s office or a hospital where she didn’t have to wait for everything. Cheryl was finished in minutes.

As they rode up in the elevator, Rodney explained that Cheryl was going to a special area the hospital had for “pregnancy termination.” Jennifer noted that everyone at the Julian Clinic studiously avoided the word “abortion.” She felt it was a good idea. Abortion was an ugly word.

They got off at the sixth floor. Again, nothing about the floor resembled the average hospital. Instead of slick vinyl, the floor was covered with carpeting. The walls were painted a pale blue and hung with attractive framed prints.

Rodney took them to a central area that was carefully decorated not to look like a nurses’ station. In front of the central station was a tastefully appointed lounge where five people dressed in what Jennifer assumed was the Julian uniform were waiting. Three of the women wore name tags indicating that they were RNs. Jennifer liked the fact that they were not dressed in the traditional starched white. She had the feeling that Karen was right: the Julian Clinic had thought of everything. She began to wonder if Dr. Vandermer had admitting privileges, since she was sure the delivery floor reflected the same attention to comfort.

“Ms. Tedesco, your room is right over here,” said one of the nurses who had introduced herself as Marlene Polaski. She was a broad, big-boned woman with short blond hair who looked around Cheryl’s room as if she were checking every detail. She even opened the door to the toilet. Satisfied, she patted the bed and told Cheryl to slip out of her clothes and make herself comfortable.

The room, like the corridor, was as pleasantly furnished as one in a good hotel, except for the standard hospital bed. A television was set into the ceiling at an angle so that it could be viewed comfortably from either the bed or the easy chair. The walls were light green with lots of built-in cabinets. The floor was covered with green carpet.

After changing into her own pajamas, Cheryl climbed into the bed.

Marlene whisked back into the room, pushing an IV cart. She explained to Cheryl that they needed an IV just for safety’s sake. She started one deftly in Cheryl’s left arm, carefully attaching a small arm board. Jennifer and Cheryl watched the drops falling in the millipore chamber. All at once it didn’t seem so much like a hotel room.

“So,” said Marlene, putting on the last strips of tape. “We’ll be taking you down to the treatment room in a few moments.” Then, turning to Jennifer, she said, “You are welcome to come along. That is, of course, if Cheryl will permit it. She’s the boss.”

“Oh, yes!” said Cheryl, her face brightening. “Jennifer, you will come, won’t you?”

The room seemed to spin momentarily. Jennifer felt as if she’d expected to go wading but instead was being thrown into the deep end of the pool. Both Marlene and Cheryl were looking at her expectantly.

“All right, I’ll come,” she said finally.

Another nurse swept in with a syringe.

“Here’s a little tranquilizer for you,” she said brightly as she pulled down Cheryl’s sheet.

Jennifer turned to the window, vaguely studying the rooftop scene that she could see through the slats of the blinds. When she turned back, the nurse with the syringe was gone.

“Gangway,” called another voice as a gowned and hooded nurse pushed a gurney into the room and positioned it alongside Cheryl’s bed.

“My name is Gale Schelin,” she said to Cheryl. “I know you don’t really need this gurney and that you could walk down to the treatment room, but it’s standard procedure for you to ride.”

Before Jennifer had time to think, she was helping to move Cheryl onto the gurney and then push her out of the room.

“All the way to the end of the hall,” directed Gale.

Outside the treatment room several orderlies took over the gurney. After the doors closed behind Cheryl, Jennifer felt relieved. Then Gale took her arm, saying, “You’ll have to enter this way.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea…” began Jennifer.

“Nonsense,” interrupted Gale. “I know what you’re going to say. But this part of the procedure is nothing. The most important thing is Cheryl’s outlook. It’s important for her to have the kind of support that family can bring.”

“But I’m not family,” said Jennifer, wondering if she should add “and I’m pregnant myself.”

“Family or friend,” said Gale, “your presence is crucial. Here. Put this over your clothes and this over your hair. Make sure that all your hair is tucked in.” She handed Jennifer a sterile gown and hood. “Then come on in.” Gale disappeared through a connecting door.

Damn, thought Jennifer. She was in a storeroom fllled with linens and a large stainless-steel machine that looked like a boiler. Jennifer guessed it was a sterilizer. Reluctantly, she put on a hood, tucking in her hair as she was advised. Then she put on the gown and tied it across her abdomen.

The connecting door opened and Gale returned, eyeing Jennifer as she opened the latch on the sterilizer. “You’re fine. Go right in and stand to the left. If you feel faint or anything, just come back in here.” There was a hiss as steam escaped from the machine.

Taking a deep breath, Jennifer went into the treatment room.

It looked just like she had imagined it would. The walls were white tile and the floor some sort of white vinyl. There was a white porcelain sink mounted on the wall and glass-fronted cabinets filled with medical paraphernalia along one side of the room.

Cheryl had been transferred to an examination table that stood in the center of the room. Next to it was a stand that supported a tray with a collection of stainless-steel bowls and plastic tubing. Against the far wall was an anesthesia cart with the usual cylinders of gas attached.

There were two nurses in the room. One of them was washing Cheryl’s abdomen, while the other was busy opening various packets and dropping the contents onto the instrument tray.

The door to the treatment room opened and a gowned and gloved doctor came in. He immediately went to the instrument tray and arranged the instruments to his liking. Cheryl, who had been calmly resting, pushed herself up on one elbow.

“Ms. Tedesco,” said one of the nurses, “you must lie back for the doctor.”

“That’s not Dr. Foley,” said Cheryl. “Where is Dr. Foley?”