“Demeaning?” Marissa echoed, as if she’d not heard correctly. Despite the Valium, she found herself once again strongly provoked. After she had suffered that very day through a painful and risky procedure, she could hardly believe that Robert was making an issue of his brief, painless contribution to the process. She tried to restrain herself, but she couldn’t help speaking her mind. “Demeaning? You find it demeaning? And how would you find spending a day flat on your back with your legs spread before an array of your colleagues while they poke and probe?”

“My point exactly,” said Robert. “I didn’t mean to suggest this has been easy for you. It’s been tough on us both. Too tough. Too tough for me, anyway. I want to call it quits. Now.”

Marissa stared ahead. She was angry and she knew Robert was. They seemed to be quarreling constantly. She watched the road ahead as it sped toward her. They stopped at the toll booth on the entrance to the Mass. Pike. Robert slammed the coins into the hopper with an angry gesture.

After ten minutes of driving in silence, Marissa had significantly calmed down. She turned to Robert and told him that Mrs. Hargrave had come to visit her that afternoon. “She was very sympathetic,” Marissa said. “And she had a recommendation.”

“I’m listening,” Robert said.

“She suggested that we avail ourselves of the counseling services that the clinic offers,” Marissa said. “I think it might be a good idea. As you said, others in our circumstances have been feeling the pressures. Mrs. Hargrave told me many people have found counseling to be a great help.” Although she’d not been excited about the suggestion initially, the more Marissa thought about it, especially seeing how she and Robert were getting along, the better it sounded. They needed help; that much was obvious.

“I don’t want to see a counselor,” Robert said, leaving no room for discussion. “I’m not interested in investing more time and money for someone to tell me why I’m fed up with a process that’s guaranteed to make us unhappy and put us at each other’s throats. We’ve spent enough time, effort, and money already. I hope you are aware that we’ve already spent over fifty thousand dollars.”

They lapsed back into silence again. After a few miles, Robert broke it. “You did hear me, didn’t you? Fifty thousand dollars.”

Marissa turned to him, her cheeks flushed. “I heard you!” she snapped. “Fifty thousand, a hundred thousand. What does it matter if it is our only chance to have our child? Sometimes I don’t believe you, Robert. It’s not as if we are hurting. You had enough to buy this silly expensive car this year. I really wonder about your priorities.”