Rooney did not seem to hear. “I’ve been seeing her and seeing her. Sometimes at night I sneak out after Clyde’s asleep because I want to talk to her. I bet she knows where Arden went. And I see her coming into the house. Once I saw her at the window of the baby’s room. The moonlight was shining on her, just as clear as day. I wish she’d talk to me sometimes. Maybe she thinks I’m afraid of her. But why would I be? If Caroline is here that means that even if Arden is dead she might be able to come back. Isn’t that right?”

She pulled away from Clyde and ran over to Jenny. Sinking on her knees she put her arms around her. “That means maybe the baby will come back too. Won’t that be nice? Jenny, will you let me hold him when he comes back?”

It was nearly two o’clock. Her breasts were heavy with milk. Dr. Elmendorf had bound them to stop the lactation but at the hours she’d fed the baby they still filled. They hurt, but she was glad to have the physical pain. It balanced the agony of grief. Rooney’s frail body was shaking. Jenny reached out, put her arms around the thin shoulders. “He isn’t coming back, Rooney,” she said. “Neither is Caroline or Arden. Tina was dreaming.”

“Of course she was,” Mark said brusquely.

Luke and Clyde lifted Rooney up. “She needs a sedative,” Luke said, “I’ll drive with you to the hospital.” Luke looked ill himself.

Emily and Mark stayed a little longer. Emily made halfhearted attempts to talk to Erich about his painting.

“I have an exhibit in Houston in February,” Erich told her. “I’ll take Jenny and the girls with me. The change will do us all good.”

Mark sat next to her. There was something so quietly comforting about him. She could feel his compassion and it helped.

After he and Emily left, Jenny managed to prepare dinner for the girls and Erich. Somehow she found the strength to get the children ready for bed. Tina splashed in the tub. Jenny thought about holding the baby in the crook of her arm while she bathed him. She brushed Beth’s long, thick curls. The baby was losing that dark hair. His would have been golden. She heard their prayers. “God bless Nana and our baby in heaven.” She closed her eyes as waves of pain washed over her.

Downstairs Erich had brandy waiting. “Drink this, Jenny. It will help you relax.” He pulled her down beside him. She did not resist. His hands ran through her hair. Once that gesture had thrilled her. “Jen, you heard the doctor. The baby wouldn’t have made it through the surgery. He really was much sicker than you knew.”

She listened, waiting for the numbness to wear off. Don’t try to make it easier, Erich, she thought. Nothing you can say matters.

“Jenny, I’m worried. I’ll take care of you. But Emily is a gossip. By now what Tina said is going to be all over town.” He put his arms around her. “Thank God, Rooney is an unreliable witness and Tina is so small. Otherwise…”

She tried to pull away from him. His hands held her fast. His voice so soft, so hypnotically gentle. “Jenny, I’m terribly afraid for you. Everyone has remarked how much you resemble Caroline. They’re going to hear what Tina said. Oh, my darling, don’t you see what they’re going to say?”

Soon she would wake up and be back in the apartment. Nana would be there. “Now, Jen, you’re talking in your sleep again. You must have had a nightmare. You’ve got too much on your mind, dear.”

But she was not in the apartment. She was in this cold, overfurnished parlor listening to the incredible suggestion that people might think she had killed her own baby.

“The trouble is, Jen, you have been sleepwalking. How many times have the girls asked why you don’t speak to them when you go into their room at night? It’s entirely possible you were in the baby’s room, maybe patting the baby’s face. Tina didn’t understand what she saw. You yourself told Dr. Elmendorf you’ve been hallucinating. He called me about that.”

“He called you?”

“Yes. He’s quite concerned. He says you’ve refused to see a psychiatrist.”

Jenny stared past him at the curtains. The lace seemed web-like. Once she had taken those curtains down, blindly trying to change the stifling atmosphere of this house. Erich had put them back up.

Now the curtains seemed to be closing in on her, enmeshing her, smothering her.

Smothering. She closed her eyes against the memory of Tina’s small hands covering her doll’s face, pressing down.

Hallucinating. Had she imagined the face, the feeling of hair hanging over the bed? All those nights, had she been imagining that?

“Erich, I’m so confused. I don’t know what reality is anymore. Even before this. But now. I’ve got to get away. I’ll take the girls.”

“Impossible, Jenny. You’re much too upset. For your sake, for their sake, you can’t be alone. And don’t forget. The girls are legally Kruegers. They’re just as much my children as yours.”

“I’m their mother, their natural mother and guardian.”

“Jenny, please remember this. In the eyes of the law I have every bit as much right to them as you. And believe me if you ever tried to leave me, I’d get custody. Do you think any court would award them to you with your reputation in this community?”

“But they’re mine! The baby was yours and you wouldn’t give him your name. The girls are mine and you want them. Why?”

“Because I want you. No matter what you’ve done, no matter how sick you are, I want you. Caroline was willing to leave me but I know you, Jenny. You’d never leave your children. That’s why we’ll be together always. We’re going to start over as of right now. I’m moving back in with you tonight.”

“No.”

“You have no choice. We’ll put the past behind. I’ll never mention the baby again. I’ll be there to help if you start to sleepwalk. I’ll take care of you. If they investigate the baby’s death, I’ll hire a lawyer.”

He was pulling her to her feet. Helplessly she allowed him to propel her up the stairs. “Tomorrow we’ll put the room back the old way,” he told her. “Just pretend the baby never was born.”

She had to humor him until she could plan. They were in the bedroom; he opened the bottom drawer of the large dresser. She knew what he was reaching for. The aqua gown. “Wear it for me, Jen. It’s been so long.”

“I can’t.” She was so afraid. His eyes were so strange. She didn’t know this man who could tell her that people believed she was a murderer, tell her to forget the baby she’d buried a few hours ago.

“Yes, you can. You’re very thin now. You’re lovely.”

She took it from him and went into the bathroom. She changed and the nightgown did fit her again. She stared into the mirror over the sink. And understood why people thought she looked like Caroline.

Her eyes had the same sad, haunted look as those of the woman in the painting.

In the morning Erich slid out of bed quietly and began to tiptoe around the room. “I’m awake,” she told him. It was six o’clock. It should have been time to feed the baby.

“Try to go back to sleep, darling.” He pulled on a heavy ski sweater. “I’m going to the cabin. I’ve got to finish the paintings for the Houston exhibition. We’ll go together, darling, the two of us and the girls. We’ll have a wonderful time.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. “Oh, Jen, I love you so.”

She stared up at him.

“Tell me you love me, Jen.”

Dutifully she said, “I love you, Erich.”

It was a bleak morning. Even by the time the girls had had breakfast, the sun was still hidden by patches of wintry clouds. The air had a chilly, dark feeling as before a storm.

She dressed Tina and Beth for a walk. Elsa was going to take down the Christmas tree and Jenny broke small branches from it.

“What are you going to do with those, Mommy?”

Beth asked.

“I thought we’d put them on the baby’s grave.”

The fresh dirt had frozen during the night. The luminous pine needles softened the starkness of the little mound.