“How are you?” she asked in a voice laced with the sympathy and desperation of one who cannot help as she’d like. She rubbed Dottie’s arm, eager to do something to ease her discomfort.

Dottie’s face and hair were drenched with sweat, but she forced a smile anyway. “I’m in between contractions. Ask me in two minutes and I might have a different answer.”

Indeed, two minutes brought a new round of wailing from Dottie, her screams filling the entirety of the vehicle to the point of hurting Margaret’s ears. But it was nothing compared to what Dottie was going through, and they had at last crawled a few feet closer to their turn.

Margaret looked over at George, whose hands gripped the steering wheel until they were white, and back at Dottie, whose breathing was starting to relax again.

Margaret closed her eyes, needing to think of something good to distract her.

And then, something brought a smile to her face. Just a few nights ago, Gladys had been out at a voter registration drive for women. Margaret had planned to go but decided at the last minute to stay with Dottie, worried about something happening while they were gone. Dottie had protested, but Margaret insisted on staying in the tiny apartment to finish up some socks for their next shipment.

A knock on the door, and Margaret opened it up to see George. He had flowers and ice cream with him.

“Margaret!” he’d said, looking down at his feet. And it was then that she realized that she wasn’t supposed to be here. That George and Dottie had arranged an evening together and she was an interloper.

She’d looked back at Dottie, who feigned surprise at George’s presence, but Margaret knew every single expression that her friend possessed. And this one had traces of what she’d seen when Dottie had been around John.

He really loves her, thought Margaret. And she might just love him back.

The thought resurrected a mixed set of emotions. It was always supposed to be John. And now it couldn’t be.

But they kind of made sense together. A glimmer of hope in all this madness. Certainly the state of the world and these particular circumstances might accelerate such a relationship to mere months. Even as Dottie and John’s romance had enjoyed the luxury of many years of simmering.

And now, here he was. At Dottie’s side at the most important moment of her life.

That had to mean something.

It took a half hour to drive the remaining blocks, but at last they pulled up to the imposing redbrick structure that served as the area’s hospital.

“I’ll go for help,” Margaret said, already halfway out of the car. She pulled open the glass doors of the entrance—impossibly heavy—and then went through two other sets before finally arriving at the receiving desk.