She spoke in a small, tight voice. “I went to Lucia’s house last week. Ron was there.”

Itzhak moaned lightly and repositioned himself on the hardwood floor.

“Did she hear you?”

“She was out of the room.”

“Well, let’s see.…” I didn’t want Amelia to end up in jail, nor did I want a PR scandal. At the same time, I didn’t believe it would be constructive to criticize her for actions already taken.

Her eyes filled with tears. “Ron is … everything you wouldn’t want for your daughter … opportunistic, dull, arrogant, lazy … it would be a mother’s deepest heartache to see a daughter with a man like him. And Lucia’s mother, her pain, her pain, I can’t imagine, to see it all unfolding before her eyes. The potential death of her daughter’s future.”

“But the baby, then … Your baby would be biologically related to Ron. Would that concern you?”

“You think I don’t know that?” Her words and saliva came toward me all at once.

I was surprised by the fury in her voice. It was an indication of her instability. Her madness.

“Yes,” she said. “There is risk in adoption.”

“I didn’t mean…”

“That loser is not sticking around to raise the child.” She pushed her hair behind her ears. “And Lucia’s an idiot. Because she thinks he is. He wants to get laid and he wants to tell his loser friends he has a kid, because that’s proof he got laid. Proof of his manhood.”

“But if that’s her decision…” I tried to point out the obvious, hoping she’d recognize that the path of Lucia was closed.

“You think I don’t see that I have nothing? No power and nothing. I get it, Delta. I get it.”

From my point of view, Amelia had limitless power. I thought about possible responses that wouldn’t anger her. “I think you could fix the situation, if you want to.”

“It’s too late.” She looked down and ran her thumb through the grooves in the antique farmhouse table.

“What did you say to him?” I tried to modulate my voice so it wouldn’t sound at all critical.

“That I would be happy to loan him fifty thousand.” Her eyes remained glued to the table.

“Loan?” I was relieved to hear the word loan. How could you go to jail for loaning money to someone?

“Yes, but I think he knew. That the ‘loan’ … it was conditional and euphemistic. He’s not the brightest bulb, but he probably understands that much.”

“Does Fritz know?”

Amelia rubbed a water-ring stain on the table with her finger, as if she might be able to remove it. “Well, I already talked about her tuition and other kinds of expenses.”

“You could say—”

Amelia began to cry. “Whatever I say … it’s not going to make a difference. She wants to keep the baby. She hates me.”