“I don’t know,” he said. “Well, yes. I think it’s nice. But she says I can go or stay, whichever I please. What kind of thing is that to say to me? She told me this morning. We were driving into town. I had to go to painting class and she said she wasn’t going to come. She’s taking the tea ceremony class at the same time from Mr. Sing’s wife. She said she had an appointment with a doctor. When I asked her what for, she said, ‘I’m going to have a baby.’ I was thinking she had an ingrown toenail or a wart to be removed. Then she said this. Well. It’s really strange. I had this feeling, right at that moment, that she wasn’t actually saying it, but that I was remembering. It felt like remembering. As though it had actually happened, but a very long time ago. I know that I’ll remember that moment when I’m an old man and remembering it will feel exactly the same as living through it did.”

“But what did you say?”

“Well, you’ve got to understand, I was in no condition to be original. I said, ‘Are you sure?’ and she just smiled at me. We didn’t say anything more then. I was just sitting there in a kind of stupor. We went into the Buttermilk Corner and drank buttermilk and she explained it all to me. She said she wanted to have my baby so she just stopped taking the pill. Months ago, right after we started living together. And she didn’t tell me. I didn’t know. It’s not that I would have stopped her if I’d had the chance. But I’ve always wanted a son and I’d always thought I’d know when I was fertilizing a woman. I thought knowing that my woman was being made pregnant and that my son would come of what we were doing together would be the biggest thing that could ever happen to me. And Carlotta did know. She was aware that every time we were together we might be making a baby. I feel like I’ve been robbed.”

“So, do you want the baby?”

“It doesn’t matter much whether I do or not. I guess I’ve got it.”

“She said you didn’t have to stay around.”