I told Carmine something like this would happen. Letting her sing in public, taking her to New York to go to shows and fill her head with garbage—I told him nothing good was going to come from that. And he said, “You're making a mountain out of a molehill.” Well, who was right, Carmine? And now who's got to clean up the mess you made? I'm the one who has to send my daughter to a bad marriage. My daughter, who faces the world with a smile. I'm the one who has to send her to a bad life.

Lu turned around. Her face was pale, and there were salty little lines down her cheeks where the tears had dried. “I'm sorry if I woke you up, Mama,” she said.

An explosion was on the tip of Mifalda's tongue. You think I can sleep after what you did? she wanted to shout. I'll never have another peaceful night again. And I don't deserve this. But Lu was still hunched over. She looked …beaten. Mifalda moved to her. She was close enough to stroke the curly hair on Lu's head, but she kept her hand to herself. “It'll be all right,” she said. “It looks bad now, but it will be all right.”

Lu looked up at her with haunted eyes. “I'm scared, Mama,” she said.

Lu's head was so close—it would have taken nothing to reach out and touch it. Mifalda turned away and went to the stove to start the coffee. “Don't worry,” she said briskly. “The boy—Ricky—he'll do what he has to. The baby will have a name.”

She heard Lu stand, felt her come over to the stove, but she didn't turn to meet Lu's eyes. She didn't want to see her daughter's haunted look.

“That's not what I'm afraid of,” Lu said. “I know Ricky will marry me. It's the baby.”

Concentrate on the coffee, a voice in Mifalda's brain commanded. Measure the grounds and put them into the metal basket in the pot. If you concentrate on the coffee, you don't have to look at those eyes.

But then Lu was whispering, “I don't think I'm going to be able to love this baby, Mama. I know I can't.” And there was no avoiding looking at her daughter.

“You'll love the baby because you have to,” Mifalda said.

Lu shook her head. The haunted look in her eyes was deep. “I'm not like you, Mama,” she said. “I can't give up my life for something I don't want and tell myself it's okay. This baby is taking away everything I've ever dreamed of. I don't want to dislike a poor helpless little child, but I'm afraid I will.”

“When it's born … you'll change.” Mifalda heard herself stumble, the words sounding uncertain even to her. She had welcomed her babies, no matter what else she'd felt about her life, but Lu was very different from her. “You'll learn to love it…”