“Quite possible,” said Isaac. “That’s the problem with not having the original writers here to talk to.”

Rebekah was glad to see them being excited together about the holy writings. But of course the information Isaac had been working on was not particularly holy. It made her all the hungrier to have a look at them, and a little bit more irritated that she could not.

On the way home, after a week in Kirjath-arba, Rebekah found herself getting nauseated from the swaying of the camel. After throwing up twice, she had to get off and walk.

When she was still nauseated the next two evenings, without coming anywhere near a camel, she began to suspect that it might be with her the way it was with some women, who threw up frequently during the early stages of pregnancy. She said nothing about it to anyone, but of course word got around that she was sick most days, and that led to the inevitable gossip, so that only two weeks later Isaac came to her and said, “Am I going to be the last to know?”

“Last to know what?”

“That you’re expecting a baby.”

“No, you’re apparently second from last, since I don’t know.”

“You don’t? Then why are all the men talking about how all the women are talking about how you’re throwing up all the time because you’re pregnant?”

“Because I’ve been throwing up a lot, and whether I’m pregnant is always one of the most thrilling topics of speculation in this household.”

“So . . . you’re not pregnant.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then you are pregnant.”

“I don’t know.”

“What are you doing to me? Either you are or you aren’t.”

“That’s true. Either I am or I’m not. But it’s too soon for me to be sure. I might just have some disease. Or there might be some food my body suddenly doesn’t like.”

“Or you might be pregnant.”

“I might be.”

“When were you going to tell me?”

“When I know!”

“Don’t you think I want to know that you might be?”

“Well, my vomiting hasn’t exactly been a secret.”

“Apparently it was to me.”

“Oh, should I have thrown up at your tent door every night before supper?”

He burst out laughing. “Don’t get so upset at me.”

“You were getting upset at me.”

“I was teasing you.”

“Who can tell?”

“Usually, you can.”

“Well, excuse me for being on edge, but what do you expect? After all, I might be pregnant!”

A few weeks later, she was certain enough to tell Isaac he could send word to his father if he wanted to.

“I don’t know if I want to,” said Isaac. “The first thing he’ll do is insist we move to Kirjath-arba.”