IRIS SAYS HIS NAME is Gregory, and who am I to object? That was our father’s name. She looks at his shifting mouth and says he’s hungry. She and the nurse exchange some words that turn terse. The nurse happens to be taking her blood pressure, and frankly I think it’s unwise to provoke an argument at such a moment, but whatever the issue in dispute, Iris seems to prevail. The nurse flounces away with her collar and bulb, and Iris pulls aside the hospital gown and starts to feed the baby.

“They think it’s barbaric to nurse your young. She wanted to get a nice bottle of scientific milk for me.”

“I happen to agree with the nurse, but it’s your baby.”

Iris looks up and smiles. “Don’t sass, or I’ll name you godmother.”

“Oh, that’s rich. Put the child’s spiritual welfare in my hands, why don’t you.”

“I just might, if only to keep you from bolting again.”

“Me? You were the one who bolted.”

I nod at Gregory, who seems hard at work. His tiny hands grip her breast and his mouth works frantically.

“Seems to be an expert,” I observe. “His mother, too.”

“Well, I should hope I know what I’m doing by now.”

She’s so weak. She hardly moves, except to keep the baby secure against her breast. I think of the freshly stitched wound beneath the hospital gown and the firm, fluent way she spoke to the nurse, not like the old Iris at all. She feels my stare and looks up.

“What’s the matter?”

“Just thinking of something your husband said. How much you wanted another baby, all of a sudden.”

“What, me? I’m just a housewife, remember?”

Something about her tone of voice sends my memory racing back to the night before last, and what I said to Fox—the question I asked—before he . . . well. Call a spade a spade. Before he distracted me.

“Just a housewife,” I repeat.

“Speaking of which, what’s happened to my husband? I would have thought he’d have arrived by now.”

“There’s been a delay, I think.”

“Oh? What kind of delay?”

“Fox is on the case, don’t worry. Probably the little nippers are misbehaving. I’ll report back with all the news.” I rise from my chair. “You just rest, do you hear? Let me do all the worrying, for once.”

“Just like you used to,” she says softly.

I lean down, smooth back her sticky hair, and kiss her forehead.

“Just like I used to.”