collapse around them. For the first time that week, Grace and Bonnie were glad they had not been able to afford a house on the ocean. Surely they would be washed away.
They had very little food left, and it was too nasty to go out for more, so for dinner, they made do with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. The power went out shortly after dinner, taking their lights and their TV. There was one hurricane lantern in the cottage, and they lit it and set it on the coffee table. Sitting on the sofa, they watched the flame lick at the inside of the glass chimney. And that’s when Grace’s cramping started. “Can peanut butter and jelly go bad?” she asked Bonnie.
“I don’t think so. We just bought it a few days ago, anyway. Why?”
“I have a stomachache.”
“Oh,” teased Bonnie, “you’re probably going into labor
“Very funny,” Grace said. But she feared that Bonnie might be right.
This was not a typical stomachache. More like menstrual cramps that came and went. But they were mild, ignorable, certainly not like labor would be. And she was only eight months pregnant.
“We might as well go to bed,” Bonnie said.
“Oh, God, Bonnie.” Grace couldn’t bear the thought of going to bed.
When she woke up, she would only have a few hours left of her freedom.
She would finally have to face the uncertainty of her future, and that of her baby. “I don’t want to go home tomorrow.”
“I do,” Bonnie said.
“No offense. But I want to see Curt. And I bet the weather has been better in Charlottesville than it’s been here.”
“You don’t have to hide a bowling ball under your shirt when you go home, though,” Grace said. “My mother would have known a long time ago,” Bonnie said.
“She pays way too much attention to me.”
Grace glanced away from her friend. Bonnie’s words were spoken as a complaint, but she didn’t appreciate how good she had it. Grace shifted on the couch, trying to find a position that would make her stomach more comfortable. Maybe lying down would help.
“Okay,” she said, getting to her feet.
“Let’s go to bed.”
Her sleep was fitful. She’d closed her bedroom window against the rain, but the glass rattled in its frame, and de spite the storm raging outside, the room was hot, her sheets damp with perspiration.
Even while asleep, she was aware of the pain. She dreamed she was in the hospital room, having the baby, and she was screaming. She screamed herself awake, and knew at once that she was truly in labor. This pain was not a dream.
Bonnie rushed to her side.
“Grace? What’s the matter?”
The room was pitch-black. Bonnie’s voice cut through the darkness, but Grace had no idea which direction it had come from.
“I think the baby’s coming.” She managed to get the words out between explosions of pain. She let herself scream, throwing all of her breath and energy behind the sound, understanding now why women in labor felt that compulsion. No other sound would do.
“It can’t be coming,” Bonnie said, and Grace heard the panic in her voice.
Grace could not respond with words, only with gasping breaths and yet another howl of pain.
“I’ll get the lantern,” Bonnie said.
“Wait here.” Then she laughed.
“Like, where else would you go?”
In a moment, she returned to the room with the burning lantern, which she set on the old dresser, and Grace could see how frightened she was. She imagined her own face held that same look of terror.
“I don’t know what to do, Grace,” Bonnie said, waving her hands feebly in the air.
“Tell me what to do.”
Grace felt helpless. What was happening to her had a life of its own, and she was completely unable to stop it. She looked at Bonnie, wordlessly pleading with her to take over.
“The nurse!” Bonnie said suddenly.
“Nancy!” Bonnie ran out of the room, ignoring Grace’s plea not to leave her.
She screamed in Bonnie’s absence, screamed and screamed just to keep her mind off the raging pain in her body and the fact that she was alone. She was still screaming when Nancy and Bonnie rushed back into the room. i Nancy gave Bonnie instructions Grace could not make I out, and Bonnie left the room. Nancy uttered words of comfort as she moved around, as if nothing unusual were occurring, and Grace suddenly felt enveloped by the nurse’s calming presence. She was only vaguely aware of Nancy rearranging the bedclothes and holding the lantern between Grace’s legs as she examined her. Nancy’s movements her entire demeanor, were confident and unhurried.
Placing the lantern back on the dresser. Nancy sat down on the edge of the bed.
