The house was cemetery quiet as Decker came through the door. Figuring someone had to be asleep, he tiptoed through the kitchen and went out the back door. Once again Nora, the nurse, and Magda had set up camp around the patio table, chatting happily as they sipped iced tea and munched grapes. Hannah was snoozing in her new cradle—a gift from his brother, Randy—and Ginger had curled up under the tabletop. The setter didn’t bother to greet Decker with her usual yipping and yapping, just raised her head and lowered it. For some reason, that bothered him. He took it as a neurotic sign that he was being displaced.

“How’s everyone?”

Nora said, “I’m glad you had that little talk with your wife. She’s been resting all morning. It’s what she needs to make her heal.”

“Good to hear.”

“Do you want some iced tea, Akiva?” Magda asked.

“Maybe a little later. How’s my baby?”

“Sleeping like one,” Nora said.

“Isn’t she a good girl?” Magda said. “Just the best?”

“No argument from me,” Decker said. “Is Cindy around?”

“She went out early in the morning,” Magda said. “I think she go swimming. She has with her a swimming bag.”

“Really?” Decker said. “That’s great. She must have hooked up with some friends.”

The women stopped talking and smiled at him. His presence must be wearing thin. Or maybe it was the other way around. He smiled and said, “I’ll just go inside the house. Get myself a snack and check in on Rina.”

The women nodded enthusiastically, as if they couldn’t wait to get rid of him. He reentered his kitchen, took an apple out of the refrigerator, and ate it before he remembered to wash it. So what’s a little weedkiller between friends?

He picked up the phone and dialed Florida. His father’s gruff voice came over the answering machine:

Leave a message. Beep.

Decker left his message. He hadn’t spoken to his parents since the baby was born; they kept missing each other. But the congratulations card in yesterday’s mail along with the lengthy handwritten note told Decker his parents had received the news and were excited. Ordinarily, his mother never wrote more than a couple of perfunctory sentences.

How are you? We’re fine. Bye.

Initially, they had been disappointed in his selection of a spouse. Nothing personal against Rina, but like Decker’s first wife, she was Jewish. His parents, being good Baptists, didn’t cotton to her rejection of the Savior. And when he announced he was joining his wife’s faith, he knew his mother would be heartbroken.