In my mind, I saw myself: I walked toward the Straubs’ side office and looked back so that he would follow me and, in my mind, he did. Fritz closed the door behind him and locked it. In the background, I could still hear Natalie on the phone. We didn’t have much time. I lay my upper body facedown on Fritz’s desk and pulled my dress up. I understood him. He was angry at everyone. Maybe even angry at me for offering sex to him. And angry at himself for accepting the offer. Rage was driving him. I know what that’s like.

When I opened my eyes, I was standing in front of Fritz in the kitchen. His eyes were still closed. His head had dropped forward slightly. My hands were still on his shoulders.

I heard Natalie say goodbye to Piper then her footsteps approaching. Fritz opened his eyes. We made eye contact. I felt the pounding of my heart in my body. Then he looked away. Natalie joined us in the kitchen and sat on the floor, petting Itzhak while Fritz drank his beer. He didn’t touch the tea.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I heard the front door open, the wind shrieking, and then silence after the door slammed shut. Amelia appeared in the kitchen. She had dark circles underneath her red, swollen eyes and appeared thinner than the last time I’d seen her.

Without a word, she crossed to the sink, turned on the faucet, and vigorously splashed water onto her face, spilling it onto her dress and the floor as well. She dried her hands with a paper towel, but didn’t bother to wipe up the puddle on the floor.

Amelia carefully dabbed her lips with the paper towel, then her forehead and then her cheeks. “I have a right to say goodbye to the baby.”

“What do you mean?” Fritz took a large sip of his beer.

“I believed that I was her mother.” Amelia’s voice shifted into a higher register. “I bonded with the baby. My heart has been ripped from my chest.” She rolled the wet paper towel into a small ball.

Fritz crossed toward Amelia and put his hands on her shoulders. “You have us, babe.”

She pushed him away as if his hands burnt her skin through her dress. “I’m dying.”

Seated on the floor next to Itzhak, Natalie twisted a rubber band around her hair to create a ponytail.

“Amelia,” Fritz said. “You need a therapist or a counselor.”

“It’s deep grief.” Amelia pulled on her ear, like a baby with an earache.

“You need spiritual guidance.” Natalie stood and sat back down on one of the counter stools.

Amelia turned to look at Natalie as if noticing her for the first time. “Hmm?”

“Maybe our rabbi,” Natalie said.

“We don’t have a rabbi.”

“At the synagogue.”

“We don’t have a synagogue.”

“Any synagogue will do.”