“What’s wrong?” I asked. This was the life we had all been dreaming about, planning for. There we were, finally finished with high school and with nothing to stop us. And yet she looked forlorn.

“It’s Mary,” she said, and those two words sent a ripple of fear through me.

“Mary?”

She nodded. “She’s not doing well.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was up with her late last night, Paul. She’s . . .” Shirley fidgeted with her hands. She rubbed her eyes and stared through the glass, out over the lake. “Not well.”

Not well.

“C’mon, Shirley,” I said, trying not to wake John. I could feel him breathing on my neck, up under my jaw. His hands jerked open. What dreams flash through such a new mind?

“She’s seeing that woman again.”

My insides dropped. “She told you that?”

“She didn’t want to worry you. Doesn’t want to worry you. Now that the baby’s here.”

“When did she tell you?”

“She said the woman needs her help. That the woman wants her to go with her somewhere. I don’t know.”

“She said that?”

“She said she keeps telling the woman she won’t do it. But apparently she’s very persistent.”

“Who do you think this woman is she’s been talking to?”

“Paul, she’s not well.”

“How long ago did she tell you, Shirley?”

“A few weeks ago.”

“A few weeks ago? Why isn’t she telling me this stuff?”

“She doesn’t want you to worry.”

“Worry!” I shouted, and John squirmed, his little head jerking up and then lying back down slowly. “Worry?” I whispered.

“She loves you, Paul. What do you want me to say?” Shirley stood and walked over to the kitchen counter, moved around in the kitchen like she was going to make some food, searched the fridge, gave up, and came back over and fell onto the couch. She was clearly spent. “You need to think about getting her some help,” she said.

“What, like a shrink?” I asked.

“Call it what you want. She needs help, Paul. She’s . . . sinking.”

The worst part was, I knew she was right. I had convinced myself with the same old stories.

She’s tired.

She’s stressed out about starting this new life.

She’s pregnant.

She had a baby.

Had it only been a year since our weightless summer at that very same cabin? It had. But landmark events had come and gone, and things were definitely not the same. Mary never came back up. She was never the same old Mary. Her eyes were empty.

“We should talk to her,” I said, pressing my face against the side of John’s head. His hair was so fine, so new, and it smelled like something from another world, something alive in its own right. “This little guy needs his mom.”

I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I sniffed, wiped my eyes with the back of my wrist, and stared out through the glass at the lake.