Zachary’s hostility reached Hannah the moment she stepped into the waiting room. And Max’s huge grin as he rose to greet and embrace her did nothing to relieve her irritation.

“What’s she doing here?” Zachary had said in a stage whisper designed, Hannah was certain, to be heard by her.

“She’s dilating fast. The baby should be here soon. This is gonna be an easy birth, thank God.” Max ignored his son and guided Hannah toward two empty seats across the room from Zachary.

“That’s a blessing.” Hannah remembered the anxious hours waiting for Laura to give birth to Andy. Laura had been over forty, and the hours of her labor had dragged on and on. Hannah worried about complications, but thank God, there had been none. Sarina was younger. She’d be fine. Sarina was who mattered now, not her husband.

Suddenly Zachary stood near them. Hannah looked up. “Well, Zachary, are you excited? You’ll be a father soon.”

Children, Hannah believed, grew to appreciate their parents when they became parents. She wasn’t sure about Zachary. His anger seemed rooted in events she had no knowledge of. Still, she hoped parenthood would soften him and serve as a bridge between him and his father. For Max’s sake, she wanted to like Zachary, but his abrasive and discourteous manner toward her and his unbridled rancor toward his father chilled her, and she distrusted and disliked him.

“Just want to get it over with. Damn nine months have been as long for me as for her,” Zachary muttered.

Hannah swallowed her anger. The fool! How could he compare the discomfort and stress of Sarina’s pregnancy to his petty moods? Sarina’s home, her family, her way of life had been swept away as if by a flood, and Zachary’s behavior had been insensitive, inconsiderate, and downright mean. Never had Hannah seen him comfort his wife or reassure her. Instead, he had abrogated his responsibility for her well-being.

“A little girl,” Hannah said as he moved past them. “We’re delighted it will be a little girl.”

Zachary’s pacing stopped. He glared at Hannah. “We are not your family.”

“Hannah is my family.” Max glared at him.

Hannah regretted coming. She turned to Max to say that she would go, when a volunteer appeared in the doorway and announced the birth of a baby girl, six pounds and twelve ounces. “Follow me, and I’ll take you to them,” she said.

Zachary filled the exit door, barring Hannah’s way.

Max stepped between them and put a protective arm about Hannah. They followed the volunteer, then, with Zachary trailing them and grumbling.

“You were certainly right about Zachary,” Max said. “I apologize for not paying closer attention to his behavior. Forgive me for making light of your concerns.”

“Right now, it’s all about that young woman and her baby,” Hannah said.