Dieter went into action immediately, hurrying her outside to the car. He helped her into the front seat and sped to the hospital. By now, the streets were passable.

He dropped her off at the front of the hospital and then parked the car. She made her way up the front steps and to the door. He met her before she was at the top and helped her up, and they went inside together.

Once she was inside, time seemed to pass in a blur. Vaguely, she was aware of someone helping her into a wheelchair, and then she was being taken to an elevator. It took her to another floor, where she was rolled down a hall and into a room.

She'd barely had time to register this fact before she was being helped into a bed. The sheets felt cool against her skin. She lay back, and a mask was placed over her face. She smelled something funny, a chemical smell. Someone told her to count backwards from ten.

"Ten...nine...eight...seeeven...siiiix..."

She came to to find herself lying in a different hospital bed, staring up at the ceiling. Her mouth felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton. She turned her head and saw Dieter's smiling face.

"Hello," he said.

"Can I please have a drink of water?" she rasped.

"Of course!" She tried to sit up but felt woozy. He supported her with his arm around her back as he helped her drink cold water from a paper cup.

"Thanks. That's much better." As she lay back down, she was startled to realize her belly was flat.

"The baby - is he all right?"

"He's perfect! We have a healthy new son, my dearest. Eight pounds, five ounces." He reached for her hand and squeezed it. "I love you so much, Martina."

"I love you, too. Where is he?"

"The nursery. Would you like to see him now?"

"Oh, yes!"

"I'll fetch a nurse."

He disappeared, and a few seconds later, a nurse brought in an incubator on wheels. Their son had been swaddled in white, so that only his face and hands were showing. He was sucking on his fist. Dieter helped Jo sit up in bed again, and the nurse laid the infant in her arms.

"Hello there, little one." The baby's unfocused eyes gazed up at her as she offered him a finger, which he immediately grasped.

"You sure are strong!"

Dieter chucked. "He has a lot of his mother in him."

"I see a lot of his father as well. What shall we call you?" she cooed to her new son.

"I'd like to name him Paul, if you don't mind," said Dieter. "Renate's son is named Heinz, and it might be confusing to have two of them in the same family."

"Paul Robert," Jo decided.

"Robert?" Dieter raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"I've always liked the name," Jo explained, her mind on another 'Robert' who would be born in Concord in a little over ten years.

"Very well. Paul Robert it is, then," Dieter agreed.

Jo remembered watching Meg breastfeed her twins. She opened her hospital gown and offered her breast, and little Paul latched on right away. Dieter looked startled for just a moment, but then smiled.

A nurse brought a bottle of warm formula.

"I don't think we'll be needing that," Dieter told her. She nodded without smiling and took the bottle away.

Jo was able to spend a luxurious week in the hospital, recovering from the birth. She didn't understand why, as she felt fine, but she was grateful for it.

All their family members and friends who lived nearby visited, and congratulations came over the phone from Werner and Sybille and many others.

"How do you know so many people?" Jo asked her husband.

"I've done a lot of travelling, been a guest pastor in many different churches." Dieter smiled. "I guess they must have all liked me."

Jo remembered reading Martina's diary so long ago, the mention of Negro churches in the United States.

"I wonder if you'll grow up to be a pastor as well," Jo said to her sleeping son.

"I leave his future in God's hands," said Dieter.

"It will be a completely different world by the time he's an adult," said Jo. A world of passenger airplanes, space exploration, skyscrapers, television, traffic jams, and automation.

"Whatever becomes of the world, it will remain under God's control."

When Jo and her son were released from the hospital, they returned to Paul and Julia's house. Dieter thought it best that Jo remain there to recuperate more for a month before returning to London.

In the familiar home once again, Jo found her bond with Julia renewed and strengthened. While helping care for her new grandson, the older woman regaled her daughter-in-law with tales of Dieter's childhood.

"He learned to play piano at four," she said. "We called him our 'Little Mozart.' We thought surely he'd grow up to be a professional musician, but then he started his confirmation classes and found his true calling. One day when he was twelve, he came to me and said, 'Mama, God told me He wants me to become a pastor.' Paul and I have always supported him in every way."

"I'm glad," said Jo. "If he'd become a musician instead of a pastor, I never would have met him."

Julia smiled. "That's true! He would have moved in completely different circles, and his path probably never would have crossed with my mother's. I'm so glad it did. She still considers him to be a very dear friend."

In February, Dieter and Jo returned to London with their warmly bundled son. Werner and Sybille were happy to see them and made a big fuss over the baby. Little Dieter was charmed by him at first but soon became jealous of all the attention lavished on him.

Sometimes, when she was all alone with her child, Jo told him about her other life.

"You had an aunt, and her name was Beth. She loved to play piano, just like your father does. If she were here, I know she'd adore you."

Little Paul looked up at her and gurgled.