A knock on the door got the attention of the nurse-technician, who stepped over and opened it. Marissa turned her head to see Robert standing in the threshold.

Although the procedure room made him feel even more uncomfortable than it made Marissa feel, he forced himself to step into the high-tech room. He pointed over his shoulder for the nurse-technician’s benefit. “Mrs. Hargrave said I could come in for a moment,” he explained.

The nurse-technician nodded, motioned toward Marissa, then went back to her preparations.

Robert gingerly walked over to the ultrasound unit and looked down at his wife. He was careful not to touch any of the delicate instrumentation, or Marissa herself, for that matter.

“Well, I did it,” he said as if he had accomplished some major task. “And now that my part’s over, I’ll be heading to the office. Unfortunately, because of the stitches, I’m later than I planned. So I’ve got to run. But I’ll come back after the meeting and pick you up. If it looks like the meeting is going to run over, I’ll call and leave word with Mrs. Hargrave. Okay?”

“Okay,” Marissa said. “Thanks for providing a sample. I appreciate it.”

Robert wondered if Marissa was being sarcastic. He couldn’t detect any irony in her tone. “You’re welcome,” he said finally. “Good luck with the egg retrieval. Hope you get a full dozen.” With a tentative pat on her shoulder, he turned and left the room.

Marissa felt tears welling up again, but she didn’t know if they were from sadness or anger. She felt so terribly alone. Lately Robert had been so businesslike, even when it came to her. She was hurt that he could leave her to face such an ordeal alone.

The Robert of today seemed so different from the man she had married so blissfully only a few years ago. In so many ways he was telling her that business came first; it was his identity and his escape. A single tear ran down into her ear. She closed her eyes tightly, hoping to block out the whole world. It seemed that her life was falling apart and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

“Excuse me, Dr. Wingate,” Mrs. Hargrave said, stopping the doctor on his way into the ultrasound room. “Could I have a brief word with you?”

“Is it important?” Dr. Wingate asked. “I’m late for Mrs. Buchanan.”

“It’s Mrs. Buchanan I want to discuss,” Mrs. Hargrave said. She held her head back. She was a tall woman herself, almost six feet. Even so, she looked slight next to Dr. Wingate’s impressive bulk.

“Is it confidential?” Dr. Wingate asked.

“Isn’t everything confidential?” Mrs. Hargrave said with a sly smile.