Now as she lay, stiff with fear, she thought again of the mother who had willed her to life and whose death might have come because she was pregnant, just as Tina was. She was sharing with her mother for the first time the communion of womanhood. The doctor told Marco to leave. The door closed.

Tina’s eyes sought something to fix on to. Her gaze, startled, rested on a crucifix hanging on the wall. God, she thought—here, too. Everywhere in Italy you could find a crucifix: in the post offices, in government offices above cheating employees, in banks, in schoolrooms, and in courts of justice. She thought of Weezy being made to stand in a corridor at the Italian school she briefly attended because she didn’t want to participate in the religion class and was not allowed, during that time, to study but only to stand like a penitent and wait. And then she thought, Now I’m going to be cut into by a Catholic doctor who votes against legalized abortion and is sure his wife and daughters are above such things.

“Now, signorina, we can get to work,” the doctor was saying. “Let me tell you first that you can have an anesthetic if you wish, but the aftereffects are liable to make you sick. On the other hand, without anesthetic you will feel some momentary discomfort, but after a good night’s sleep you will be fit all the sooner.”

Tina did not want to risk being sick and arousing her father’s worry or suspicions. Poor man! she thought. He’s had enough to make him miserable in these days without my adding to it. “Do it without,” she said, almost smiling at the thought of how terrified she had been of getting her ears pierced when Duke had given her hoop earrings.

The doctor began. She tried to detach herself from the room, her eyes clinging to the crucifix as she tried to focus her thoughts on Jews and women in Catholic countries. Then the pain went through her and made her call out. She could feel the instrument scraping inside her.

“Quiet!” the doctor said angrily. “It won’t take long and I can’t have you crying out here in my office at this time of night.”

Jesus, she said to the crucifix, make me pass out.

But she did not pass out. She stayed there with the pain, gripping the sides of the table with her hands, repressing her cries into muffled groans.

It was over, and the doctor took her feet out of the stirrups, pulled her skirt down, and told her to rest a few minutes.