She picked up the dough and looked at me. Such blue eyes. It made thinking impossible. I wanted to give my sister-in-law a kiss. On the mouth. Take her into my arms, hold her face, and ram my tongue down her throat. She put her hand up to her head, and when she pulled it away there was flour in her hair.

“What the hell,” she said.

“What?”

“What if we can’t have kids?”

“Nah,” I said. “Your body’s not flawed.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “I’ve heard there are doctors who exaggerate to get the most money.”

“That’s true,” I said. “It happens a lot. Don’t worry.”

She wiped her eyes. “If my uterus is damaged, I might not be able to have a baby.”

I nodded. Dave had explained that to me the night before. She said, “See, a woman has a lot of fragile parts inside. There’s the vagina, and then there’s the cervix, and the uterus—”

“Calm down,” I said.

“Jesus Christ,” she said.

I said, “Dave thinks it’s him.”

“It’s not him. He’s paranoid.”

“That’s what I told him.”

“I’ve been thinking about this nonstop. I feel like my brain is on fire.”

“It’s not,” I said.

“I lie in bed thinking about it all the time. I feel like I have cancer.”

“You don’t have cancer,” I said.

She cursed again. “Tuesday I go back, and they do it. They tell you right away.”

“Uh-huh,” I said. She flung the dough around, doing judo on it.

“I’ll be so glad when this is over. You know what I mean?”

“Sure, absolutely. Look, Denise, I want to help. I can help.”

“You’re so generous.”

“That’s not what I mean,” I said.

She said, “Dave and I would have the most beautiful baby,” and all of a sudden she burst into tears. I just sat there with her crying. “We’re not really going to be denied this, are we?” she said. Denise looked right at me, her eyes red and swimming. She held her hand out, palm up, as if she was begging for change. I didn’t know what she wanted. The whole thing was making me sweaty. Tears dropped off either side of her mouth into flour on the counter.

“No, no way.” I hopped off the stool and went to the bathroom for a tissue. I handed it to her.

She said, “I don’t care how many we have.”

“I know,” I said. “You’ll have five, you’ll have ten.” She asked if I was being sincere. I told her Dave was a late bloomer and he’d be interested in intercourse till he’s ninety.