“You can come, if you want,” he said. “We’re going up to Pelican Lake and put his boat in the water. He wouldn’t mind if you came along. Maybe he’d like to bring his wife, too.”

“I was hoping we could go on a picnic together, just the two of us. A drive in the country.”

“I’m sorry, Doll,” he said. “I already made plans. But, if you want to come, maybe you could bring a picnic for all of us.”

Dolly finally let go of the plate and took her hands from the dishwater. She could see it was futile to try to make him understand. Taking a deep breath, she dried her hands on her apron, then stepped across the kitchen and sank down at the table again. She wished she had a cigarette. “Oh, Byron,” she sighed.

“What’s the matter?”

It was a moment before she could speak. “I guess I just want a baby,” she said. It seemed much easier to say that one true-enough thing than to try explaining the whole mess of feelings that had welled up in her—feelings she didn’t even understand herself and that had suddenly made her feel all but hopeless.

Because this much was certainly true: On Tuesday night, after Byron had fallen asleep, she had gone into the hideously wallpapered bathroom and—in direct defiance of her every recent prayer—discovered blood.

She had been brought up not to question God and His plans, but she was beginning to think He had some explaining to do.

Byron got up from his chair and came around to kneel beside her. He touched her face, and kissed her lightly. “It’ll happen soon, Doll,” he said, smiling that smile she liked. “Want to give it a try right now?”

Men!

With the song’s end, Mrs. Fryt ahemed, and introduced Dolly, then added, “I hope you ladies will take the opportunity to meet Dolly at the break or after the meeting. Next month we’ll vote on the matter of her membership.”

Dolly smiled weakly at the group. She hadn’t been told her membership would be subject to a vote.

Sure enough, both at the break and during the post-meeting coffee, one lady after another made a point of meeting her and sounding out her level of commitment to the Pine Rapids Women’s Club.

She was so glad to see a familiar face when Corinne Olson came up to her that she clutched Corinne’s hand and took a deep breath, savoring the comforting grandmother-scent of Corinne’s powder.

“How are you holding up?” Corinne asked.