This operation would make it all better, she thought. She and Harry and Martha would make a wonderful little family, until there was a little Harry Junior. They would be happy and laugh and play games and love each other.

The wheels rocked an easy rhythm, and soon Fern was asleep.

Chicago was a smelly, noisy place. The train crept through endless miles of tracks that seemed to go nowhere except through an awful stench. She looked out the window and saw nothing but ugliness. Then the tunnel closed about them, and the train stopped. She gathered their things and disembarked with the help of the conductor and walked into the station. She located the clock and went to stand under it, as she had been told. A man waited for her.

“Mrs. Mannes?”

“Yes.” Fern took in his young, dark looks and was pleased. He had a nice face.

“I’m Doctor Goldman.”

“Oh! Oh, well, I didn’t really expect . . .”

“Didn’t expect me to meet you here myself? It just happened that my schedule opened up this afternoon, and I thought I could meet you and Martha personally. May I?” He lifted the corner of the baby blanket.

“Of course.” Fern shifted her bundle so Dr. Goldman could get a full view of Martha’s face.

“Yes, well, can’t see too much here. Let’s get her over to the hospital where we can really take a look.” He picked up Fern’s suitcase. “My car’s just outside.”

In the car, Fern had an opportunity to look at Dr. Goldman. He looked successful. He was dressed well, in what looked to be an expensive pinstripe suit, his car was new, and he carried with him quite an air of authority. He was small-boned, with a large nose, but his eyes were dark brown and friendly, and laugh lines around his mouth showed a face that knew humor.

“How was the trip?”

“Oh, fine. Long.”

“I bet. Nervous?”

“Yes.”

“Well, don’t be. Ralph filled me in on all the particulars of the case, and I don’t think we’ll have any problems at all.”

“Ralph?”

“Doctor Pearson.”

“Oh. Do you know him well?”

“We’ve had a few mutual patients.”

“Oh. How long will this take?”

“It will be about three weeks after the surgery before Martha can travel. We’ve arranged a bed in the hospital for you, so you can stay there.”

Three weeks.

The hospital was a bustle of hushed activity. The antiseptic smell, not unpleasant, was pervasive. Dr. Goldman escorted them quickly into an examination room, where he washed his hands while Fern talked baby talk to Martha and settled her down on the table. Then Fern undressed her at the doctor’s request.