She thought of Maude Ekers’ curse: “God damn the baby you’re carrying.” Her arms tightened around the sleeping infant.

“Is the operation dangerous?”

“Any operation has potential risk. But most babies come through nicely.”

Again she brought the baby home. The tiny birth fuzz started to fall out. Fine golden shades of down began to replace it. “He’ll have your hair, Erich.”

“I think he’ll stay red like the girls.”

December came. Beth and Tina made up long lists for Santa Claus. Erich set up a huge tree in the corner near the stove. The girls helped him. Jenny held the baby as she watched. She hated to put him down. “He sleeps better this way,” she told Erich. “He always feels so cold. His circulation is poor.”

“Sometimes I don’t think you care about anyone except him,” Erich observed. “I have to tell you, Tina and Beth and I are feeling pretty left out, aren’t we?”

He took the girls to see Santa Claus in a nearby shopping mall. “What a list,” he commented indulgently. “I had to write everything down that they were ordering. The big things they seem to want are bassinettes and baby dolls.”

Luke had come back to Minnesota for the holidays. He, Mark and Emily stopped in on Christmas afternoon. Emily looked subdued. She showed an exquisite leather pocketbook. “Mark’s present. Isn’t it lovely?”

Jenny wondered if she had been expecting an engagement ring.

Luke asked to hold the baby. “He’s a little beauty.”

“And he’s put on eight ounces,” Jenny announced joyfully. “Didn’t you, Pumpkin?”

“Do you always call him Pumpkin?” Emily asked.

“I suppose it sounds silly. It’s just that Erich sounds like too much name for such a tiny little scrap. He’ll have to grow into it.”

She looked up smiling. Erich looked impassive. Mark, Luke and Emily were exchanging startled glances. Of course. They’d probably seen the birth notice in the paper the day after the baby was born, the notice that listed his name as Kevin. But hadn’t Erich explained?

Emily rushed to fill the awkward silence. Bending over the baby again, she said, “I think he’ll have the same coloring as the girls.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s going to be blond like Erich.” Jenny smiled again. “Just give him six months. We’ll have a Krueger towhead.” She took him from Luke. “You’ll look just like your daddy, won’t you, Pumpkin?”

“That’s what I’ve been saying right along,” Erich commented.

Jenny felt the smile freeze on her face. Did he mean what she thought he meant? She looked searchingly from one face to the other. Emily looked acutely embarrassed. Luke stared straight ahead. Mark was stony-faced. She felt the anger in him. Erich was smiling warmly at the baby.

She knew with absolute certainty that Erich had not changed the name on the birth certificate.

The baby began to whimper. “My poor little darling,” he said. She stood up. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to…” She paused, then finished quietly, “I have to take care of Kevin.”

Long after the baby fell asleep she sat by the bassinette. She heard Erich bring the girls upstairs, his voice soft. “Don’t wake up the baby. I’ll kiss Mommy good night for you. Didn’t we have a wonderful Christmas?”

Jenny thought: I can’t live like this.

At last she went downstairs. Erich had closed the gift boxes and stacked them neatly around the tree. He was wearing the new velvet jacket she’d ordered from Dayton’s for him. The deep blue suited him. All strong colors suit him, she thought objectively.

“Jen, I’m really happy with my present. I hope you’re as pleased with yours.” He’d bought her a white mink jacket.

Without waiting for a reply, he continued to straighten the girls, then said, “The girls really went for those bassinettes, didn’t they? You’d never guess they got anything else. And the baby. Well, he’s a little too young to appreciate them but before long he’ll have fun with those stuffed animals.”

“Erich, where is the baby’s birth certificate?”

“It’s on file in the office, dear. Why?”

“What name is on it?”

“The baby’s name. Kevin.”

“You told me you’d changed that.”

“I realized it would have been a terrible mistake to change it.”

“Why?”

“Jenny, hasn’t there been enough talk about us? What do you think the people around here would say if we corrected the baby’s name? My God, that would give them fuel for the next ten years. Don’t forget we weren’t married quite nine months when he was born.”

“But Kevin. You called him Kevin.”

“I explained the reason for that. Jenny, already the talk is dying down. When people talk about the accident, they don’t mention Kevin’s name. They talk about Jenny Krueger’s first husband, the guy who followed her to Minnesota and somehow went over the riverbank. But I can tell you this. If we changed the baby’s name now, they’d be trying to figure out why for the next fifty years. And by God, then they’d remember Kevin MacPartland.”

“Erich,” she asked fearfully, “is there a better reason you didn’t change the birth certificate? Is the baby sicker than I realize? Is it because you’re saving your name for a child who will live? Tell me, Erich, please. Are you and the doctor hiding anything from me?”

“No, no, no.” He came over to her, his eyes tender. “Jenny, don’t you see? Everything will be fine. I want you to stop worrying. The baby is getting stronger.”

There was another question she had to ask him. “Erich, there was something you said in the delivery room, that the baby had dark red hair like the girls. Kevin had dark red hair. Erich, tell me, promise me, that you’re not suggesting that Kevin was the baby’s father. You can’t believe that?”

“Jenny, why would I believe that?”

“Because of what you said about his hair.” She felt her voice quivering. “The baby’s going to be the image of you. Wait and see. All his new hair is blond. But when the others were here… The way you picked me up when I said he’ll look just like his daddy. The way you said, “That’s what I’ve been saying right along.’ Erich, surely you can’t think Kevin is the baby’s father?”

She stared at him. The blue velvet gave an almost burnished look to his blond hair. She’d never really appreciated how dark his lashes and brows were. She was reminded of the paintings in the palace in Venice where generations of lean-faced, smoldering-eyed doges looked disdainfully down on the tourists. There was something of that contempt in Erich’s eyes now.

His facial muscles tightened. “Jenny, is there any end to the ways you misunderstand me? I’ve been good to you. I brought you and the children out of that miserable apartment to this beautiful home. I gave you jewelry and clothes and furs. You could have had anything you wanted and still you allowed Kevin MacPartland to contact you and cause a scandal. I’m sure there isn’t a house in this community that doesn’t discuss us over the dinner table every night. I forgive you but you have no right to be angry with me, to question every word out of my mouth. Now let’s go upstairs. I think it’s time I moved back in with you.”

His hands tightened on her arms. His entire body was so rigid. There was something frightening about him. Confused, she looked away.

“Erich,” she said carefully, “we’re both very tired. We’ve been under a strain for a long time. I think what you should do is start painting again. Do you realize how few times you’ve gone to the cabin since the baby was born? Go to your own room tonight and get an early start in the morning. But bundle up; it’s probably very cold there now.”

“How do you know it’s cold? When did you go there?” His voice was quick and suspicious.

“Erich, you know I’ve never been there.”

“Then how did you know…?”

“Sshh, listen.” From upstairs they heard a wailing.

“It’s the baby.” Jenny turned and ran up the stairs, Erich behind her. The baby’s arms and legs were flailing. His face was damp. As they watched he began to suck his clenched fist.