He Knew that this baby’s name was Suzanne, and that she was loved—she was so loved; he Knew that Suzanne’s mother had never before gone off and left her alone like this in public, and that she was already cursing herself for having done so, but she had nearly two-hundred dollars in her purse and needed to get it back immediately; he Knew that both of Suzanne’s parents worried because she was such a quiet baby, and that her pediatrician was a secret alcoholic who would one day come close to killing one of his patients because he would prescribe the wrong antibiotics; but mostly what Ronnie Knew was this: that Suzanne was such a quiet, unsmiling baby because there was a tumor pressing on her stomach, a tumor that had not yet been diagnosed, and he Knew that by the time it would be diagnosed, it would be too late; that even if Suzanne’s mother were to come out of Kresge’s right this second and take her baby right to the hospital, it would do no good. The tumor had already caused other, smaller tumors to grow all over Suzanne’s insides, so even if the doctors were to cut out the tumor on her stomach and give her months of cobalt treatments, more would come along to take its place and Suzanne, the quiet, delicate, unsmiling baby, would not live to see her third birthday. And she would be scared and in great pain right up to the moment of her death—with neither Mommy nor Daddy there to hold her because both had been awake at her hospital bedside for nearly three straight days, and both had fallen asleep in their chairs, and Suzanne wouldn’t have the strength to cry out and awaken them.

She would die alone, without another’s loving touch on her skin, and she would be in agony, and she would be so very, very afraid.

Ronnie’s eyes filled with tears and he began crying like a little baby himself, because he Knew that he was the only person who could take Suzanne’s Hurting away. He hadn’t even planned on going by Kresge’s today—he was going to go to Carol’s Department Store instead—but something had turned him in this direction, and he Knew that it had been because Suzanne would be here.

He had to do it.

And he had to do it fast, before anyone noticed him, or before Suzanne’s mother came back outside.

He leaned farther into the stroller and kissed Suzanne; first on each cheek, then on her mouth. When he began to pull away, Suzanne reached up and gripped one of his fingers—his left index finger—and gave it a squeeze as a smile came to her face and her eyes began to sparkle. It was like she Knew, as well, and understood what he was going to do, and wanted to thank him for it.

“I love you,” said Ronnie. “And I’m so sorry…”

Suzanne giggled and squeezed his index finger again, then closed her eyes and let go.