“I don’t know,” said Marigold. “I can’t control it.” She stood and wandered to the furnace. She positioned the wood in the potbelly stove using a stick. The log caught the rising flame and started to pop. It shot sparks outward like fireworks. She shut the iron door and sniffed the scent of fire. The smell of wood was one she liked. The strong odor of pine was one of her favorites.

Laughing Girl didn’t press the matter. She only kept her hands on Helen’s tummy and closed her eyes. “I cannot feel anything with my hands.”

“What’s Helen gonna do with a baby?” said Rachel.

“Well, she won’t stay here,” said another girl. “Babies don’t belong in places like this.”

“She’s gonna be happy,” said Marigold. “That’s what she’s gonna do with a baby. The rest will just work itself out.”

“Well,” said one girl, “girls like us weren’t meant for birthing babies. I don’t think motherhood will suit her.”

“Motherhood is not supposed to suit people,” said Laughing Girl. “It is a natural thing, like going to the bathroom. Everyone knows how to go to the bathroom.”

“That’s ridiculous,” said Rachel. “How would you know?”

“I just know.”

Marigold stood beside the window, watching the snow fall. White tufts drifted toward the ground. All the girls were excited by the snow. It was such a rare and beautiful thing in this part of the world. It had been snowing all winter long, off and on, and it had become a minor obsession among them all.

“You ever seen snow before this winter?” Rachel asked Laughing Girl.

“No,” Laughing Girl said. “I have only heard people talk about it.”

Another girl said, “I didn’t know it was really this white.”

Helen kept her eyes closed but opened her mouth to speak in a low voice. “This is nothing. In Chattanooga, I seen a blizzard once.”

“Chattanooga? You’ve been to Chattanooga?” Rachel said.

“It is where she came from,” said Laughing Girl.

Helen went on. “One Christmas I remember I had to parade around town right through the snow. I was wearing a tasseled dress. We were keeping company with rich men who needed a trophy on their arm.”

“Tassels?” Rachel said. “Oh, aren’t you lucky.”

“Shiny too,” said Helen. “With glitter on the chest.”

“Never seen a dress made of glitter,” Rachel said.

“Neither have I,” said Laughing Girl.

“The blizzard kept everyone inside for days. We were miserable.”

“I wonder what glitter dresses cost,” said Rachel.

“I think I would look good in glitter and tassels,” said another.

“I was so young,” said Helen.

The girls got quiet.

Marigold touched Helen’s stomach again. She closed her eyes. She concentrated on the feelings that moved through her hand, up her arm, and into her heart. And she felt something. She felt the little boy. Smiling.

“There you are,” said Marigold.