Chapter 23: Through the Glass

My water broke in the aisle of a grocery store at two in the afternoon, five days before my due date.

Marcy was holding a can of tomatoes.

She looked at the floor, then at me, and put the can back on the shelf very carefully.

"Okay," she said. "Okay. I'm not panicking. This is me not panicking."

"Marcy."

"I'm going to get the car."

"You're in front of the car."

"I'm going to get the car!"

She ran.

A man with a cart stared at me.

"It's fine," I said. "I'm just having a baby."

Twenty minutes later I was in a hospital bed with a belt strapped around my stomach.

Marcy had called my parents, Rhonda, and the aunt in Florida, in that order.

Then she had called Garson.

He arrived in ten minutes flat.

I know, because Marcy timed him.

He stopped inside the door in his coat with the snow still on his shoulders.

"Tell me what you need."

"I need this to stop hurting," I said.

"I can't do that."

"Then hold my hand."

He held it.

The pains came harder through the afternoon.

At five the nurse checked me and said I was at seven centimeters.

At six I told Marcy I was going to die.

"You are not going to die," Marcy said. "You're going to scream at me, which is allowed."

"I hate you."

"I know."

"I hate everyone."

"That's the spirit."

Garson stood against the wall with his sleeves rolled up.

He did not say it would be all right, because he didn't lie.

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