Marigold was getting sick inside. She remembered how it felt to have Maggie in her belly. A weighty sensation beneath the heart and ribs.

“We’ve got to go,” said Marigold. “I have a bad feeling here.”

Helen looked at her. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I feel something . . . something . . . in my belly.”

“What?”

“We should go, Helen, now.”

“Would you hush? You’re starting to give me the willies.”

Marigold drew in a breath and closed her eyes. She tried to steady her nerves and forget about the sharp sting in her belly, but instead she felt like she was about to lose her insides. Her head started aching. Her ears started ringing.

“Helen,” said Marigold. “This is a mistake. If you don’t leave this place, Helen, you’ll . . . you’ll . . .”

“I’ll what?”

Marigold couldn’t bring herself to say more.

“You can’t be serious,” said Helen.

“Please, let’s just go, right now, and go far away from here.”

“Don’t be silly, not after we drove all this way.”

The small man knocked on the door. He said, “Doc will see you now.”

Helen removed her jacket and handed it to Marigold. “Now quit being ridiculous and help me change.”

But Marigold lurched forward. A burning in her gut became so hot she didn’t know if she would survive it. The pain brought Marigold to her knees.

“What’s happening to me!” screamed Marigold. She hollered loud enough to rattle the roof.

“What on earth is wrong with you?” Helen shouted.

The small man rushed into the room. “What’s wrong with this girl?” he said.

“I don’t know.”

Helen shouted again, “What’s the matter with you?”

Marigold closed her eyes tight and clenched her jaw. She could feel a quick pulse in her head. “It’s a boy,” she said in a forced whisper. “A pretty boy.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” said Helen.

“You should see him, Helen. I wish you could see him. He’s beautiful.”

The room fell silent. The small man approached. He knelt beside Marigold and rested his hand on her back and stroked her shoulders. “You’re burning up, sweetheart. Tell us what you see.”

Marigold smiled. Eyes still closed. “I see him.”

Thirty-Nine
Bad Decision

Coot lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. It was early morning, and the sun wasn’t up yet. The world was still lit by the moon. He crawled out of bed, threw on his clothes, wandered down to the kitchen, and placed a pot of coffee on the stove. He rubbed his eyes. He stretched and looked out the window. It was dark. And bitter cold. It would be a long day at work.