Shit, she had said as she paced. To be knocked up by a pig. I’m not going to keep it, that’s for sure. I’ve already made an appointment with the doctor. I think you should pay for half, Pete.

He had simply said, You do anything to my kid, and I’ll kill you. His intensity had scared her into listening to him. Maybe he had reacted that way because he had been adopted. If his mother’s pregnancy had occurred later in the century, he might have ended up a pickled fetus in someone’s laboratory.

Four months after Jan’s announcement, they were married, to everyone’s displeasure.

Five more tries for children. One ended in a tubal pregnancy, three had been spontaneous miscarriages.

And one stillborn.

Seeing Jan being prepped for an emergency C-section. Him being whisked out of the labor room. An hour later, he stood there, listening impassively while a ghoul in a white coat told him the baby had died during birth. But the mother was fine, thank God.

Thank God, Decker had repeated. Then, his only words: What was it?

It was a boy, Mr. Decker.

Jan had again retreated into her shell. When she finally did speak, the first thing she stated was a willingness to start again.

Decker had blurted out, Jan, give it a rest.

She didn’t speak to him for six months.

Now, her voice escorted him back into the present. “I was young, wasn’t I?”

“Yeah,” Decker said. “Look, I’ve got to get back—”

“I’ve often thought, Pete,” Jan interrupted, “not to get too metaphysical, but I really think that the purpose of our marriage must have been Cindy.”

“Probably was,” Decker said.

“You know,” Jan said, “your stoic, goyish manner used to really aggravate me—”

“Really now?”

Jan laughed. “But I’ll say one nice thing for you. During all our most horrible, heated fights, you never threw my wanting to…my wanting to abort in my face.”

“I could start now, if you want,” Decker said.

“Schmuck,” she said. “Never could take a compliment.”

She hung up the phone.

Give it a rest. Linda Darcy’s doctor had told her the same thing. Was that relevant to anything? If she had been anything like Jan, the need to have a child would have overpowered her, her husband, and their marriage.

He reentered the squad room, picked up the envelope from Manfred that was lying on his desk.

Marge stared at him and said, “Ex give you a rough time?”

“No,” Decker said.

“I’ll bet,” Marge said. “What did you ask Manfred for?”

“Information file on the Darcy land.” Decker took off his coat, slung it over his desk chair, and ripped open the glued-down flap. “Of course, I’m sure they deleted all the relevant facts and figures…but you never know what they might have left behind accidentally.”