Decker felt his head spin. “Doctor says you’re going to be fine, Rina. But you need to rest…relax. The only thing you should be concerned about is getting your strength back. Now I’m ordering you to close your eyes and go back to sleep.”

Rina attempted a deep breath, her face contorting from the effort. “I’m not bleeding normally. Not like the others…” She winced. “And the miscarriages, too. It’s not normal.”

Decker squelched a wave of nausea. “Rina, you’re so tired. Go to sleep, honey.” His voice was making tinny echoes in his ear. “I’ll be here when you wake up. You’ll feel better after you sleep.”

“Your face.” Her voice was so raspy. “You’re not looking at me. Tell me.”

Decker couldn’t talk, paralyzed by exhaustion and fright.

“What’s wrong with me, Peter?”

“Nothing’s wrong, honey.”

Immediately, he regretted the false words. He had to tell her. He couldn’t let her think she was the same as before, only to have her psyche destroyed later on. She’d never forgive him. As much as he dreaded the task, he knew he had to confess. He forced himself to look in her eyes. They’d become deep blue pools.

“I love you, baby.”

“What is it, Peter?”

He kissed her hand again, then whispered, “Rina, you had a hysterectomy. That’s the reason you’re not bleeding normally.”

She didn’t react.

After some false starts, he finally found his voice. “Rina, we have a lovely, lovely family. A beautiful new baby…a real gift from God. We have to remember that.”

She said nothing, her eyes resting blankly on his face.

“I know how you must feel…no, I don’t know how you feel. I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

He kissed her hand again.

“Rina, the truth is, I’m an old man. I mean, who wants to be playing sandlot ball when you’re fifty, right?”

Her expression reflected his stupidity. He knew he should just shut up, but the jitters kept his vocal cords humming overtime.

“I know how you feel about kids, honey. And I love kids, too. We’ve got to look at it this way. We have three beautiful, healthy children; I’ve got a nearly grown daughter. Babies are wonderful, but it’s nice when the kids grow up and are big—on their own. Give us a little special time…we haven’t had a lot of that, you know?”

Nothing.

“Rina, four kids can be a real stretch on the pocketbook. Private schools, then college. Man, I can’t believe what it cost to send Cindy through one year of Columbia….”

He was babbling. But it didn’t matter, because none of his words were really registering with her.