“I won’t,” Sarah promised and went out to the porch from the kitchen, wanting to be away from them. She walked decisively, as though she left on an errand and knew precisely where she was going, although she did not. As she went out the back door and down the steps, she saw Roman, and guessed from his face that he had been waiting for her.

“Roman! It is good to see you.” She took his hand and squeezed it.

“You woke at last!” he exclaimed, smiling, but a little accusingly too. “Lovey told me you were up all night and I wouldn’t see you till tomorrow.”

“Have some peach tart.”

He shook his head.

She broke off a piece and conveyed it to his mouth, which opened and received it. She ate the rest and wiped her greasy fingers on the napkin. They chewed together, eyes rolling, shoulders shaking with laughter kept silent, lest they choke.

“I heard it’s a little girl!”

“Name is Rachel.”

“Rachel?”

“My mother’s name.”

“Ah.” He nodded.

“You know,” she teased him. “I kind of forgot what you look like, Roman, the last day has been so strange, like a day out of time.”

“I look like me!”

“Yes,” she agreed happily. “You look like you!” But even as she said it, she remembered Leon and her suggestion that they have a glass of wine together to celebrate the new baby’s safe arrival. She said good night to Roman and went into the house again.

17

Felix and Nell came to look at the child. Nell shook her head and said, “Poor mite; a lifetime of suffering ahead, born as she is a female into this vale of tears.” Juanita, who had assumed full charge of the baby, asked “Miss Nell” if she would like to hold Rachel a minute, but the offer was declined with a sad smile.

Others were more cheerful on their visits. All of the Davises came, including the youngest. Their stay was short, friendly, and a little noisy. The four children, who had obviously been instructed not to touch the baby, stood solemnly, hands held behind them, as Juanita lowered Rachel for them to see closely. The two older ones—Adam was six and Annabel five—had seen their brother James and sister Doreen when they were babies, so it might be assumed that the viewing of this new child could provide no sensation. Yet it did, perhaps because she was not one of them. They stared, they gawked. Annabel cupped a hand over Adam’s ear. He frowned and whispered back to her. Then he said, “Annabel says can we see her toes.”