Chapter 7: The Diner

Birdie's fever broke at two in the morning, and by Wednesday the whole county had decided what I had done.

I found out at the diner.

I took Daisy in for pancakes at eight, because she had asked for them every day since we left the ranch.

The bell over the door rang, and the room went quiet in a way I was starting to recognize.

Lottie sat in the big corner booth with five women from the church.

She had a tissue balled in one hand, and her eyes were red.

I hadn't been meant to hear her.

"I handed her over in good faith," she was saying. "She's trained, I thought.

"And then she took her out of my arms and shouted at me in the ambulance.

"Then Monday night she walked out of the hospital and left us."

"Left you?" one of the women said.

"In the hall. With my baby in a bed behind a curtain.

"I'm not saying she did it on purpose. She was upset about Jesse, I understand that.

"But a child with a fever of a hundred and four."

I stood with my hand on the back of Daisy's neck.

Every fork in that diner had stopped.

I could have walked out.

I had walked out on enough that week.

Instead I took Daisy to the counter, lifted her onto a stool, and ordered pancakes with extra butter.

The woman who ran the register looked at me, and at Lottie, and back again.

"Coming right up," she said.

I could feel Lottie's eyes on my back.

I waited until Daisy had her fork.

Then I turned on my stool.

"Lottie," I said, not loudly. "I'm sorry you had a scare. How's Birdie this morning?"

Lottie dabbed her eyes.

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