Chapter 4: Public Comment

On Monday morning I was lying on a paper sheet with my feet in stirrups.

The OB had warm hands, at least.

She spoke out loud while she measured, and I followed each one.

A, B, C.

"Baby A is the show-off," she said. "Baby C is hiding behind B. That's normal."

"Everything's normal?"

"Everything's normal for three. Which isn't normal for anybody."

I laughed, and she smiled, and for ten minutes nobody was the mayor.

Out in the waiting room, Jens sat in a pink chair between two pregnant women.

He'd driven me because my Subaru was still in the tow lot.

He'd also bought himself a coffee from the cart downstairs.

He was holding it.

He had not drunk any of it.

"It's cold," I said.

He looked down at it.

"Huh."

"Were you nervous?"

"A woman over there was telling her husband about her mucus plug," he said. "In detail. For twenty minutes."

"Welcome to my life."

He dropped the full cup in the trash and held the door.

I didn't go home.

I went to city hall.

I wanted to file a written objection to the renewal before the vote, and the clerk's counter opens at nine.

It was 11:15.

The city clerk had stamped my documents for five years.

When she saw me, her face did something strange.

"Back already?"

"Back?"

"You were just here." She pulled a folder. "You signed this at 9:40. In person. I watched you."

She turned it around.

The route certification for the Thorsby contract.

My name was typed under the line. City Snow and Ice Engineer.

Above it, in blue ink: Signe Thorsby.

The capital S looped like a swan.

The whole name leaned to the right.

I write with my left hand.

My letters lean back.

"That's not my signature," I said.

The clerk looked at the paper. She looked at me.

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