Malcolm’s cousins, Minx and Henry, had rented us a larger apartment in a new development near their house. We had talked on the phone about it a dozen times but I was still worried. I had begun to worry about all sorts of things since the baby came. The slightest little ailment would send me into paroxysms of hypochondria. I had never been sick in my life until the operation. My body had always been able to tolerate anything I did to it. Now I began to imagine that things could go wrong. They had kept me on Demerol for many days in the hospital, even after I began to nurse the baby. I have always thought that played a part in the hypochondria. Also, the private duty nurse who sat with me at night was full of superstitions and dire warnings. By the time she left she had instilled a full measure of caution in my unlettered little twenty-one-year-old mind. She had once taken care of an infant who died mysteriously in the night and she told me the story a dozen times. After she left I would get up every hour or two and go to the crib to see if the baby was still breathing.

“Call Henry and make sure they moved the beds into the bedrooms,” I said. “They weren’t sure when they could deliver them.”

“They moved them in. Minx said they did it Tuesday. You want me to call them again?”

“Yes. I want to make sure things are ready before we leave here. I won’t have anyone to help me when we get there. I won’t have anyone to help me take care of him. You sure aren’t going to help. I know that much.”

“Oh, God, you’re going to start that again.”

“You won’t even pick him up. You can’t even change his diaper. Did Minx say they got the diaper service? They know where to come?”

“She said they did.”

“We have to get a washer and dryer put in as soon as we get there. Daddy said to get anything we need.” I sat back against the pillows. The baby was calmer now. He had begun to play with the nipple. He was going to settle down and eat. I stroked his head. As long as he was still and didn’t cry I adored him. But when he cried and wouldn’t eat, I didn’t know what to do. I rocked him and walked around the room and sang to him and danced with him but sometimes he just kept right on crying.

“You don’t have to go to Atlanta,” Malcolm said. “You can stay here with your mother’s maids. You can do anything you want to do, but I have to go back to school. I have to go and finish my degree.”