Like that,” I lamented. When Francie roused herself, she wanted to be held and cuddled. She pressed my hand against her tummy and asked if I could f...el the baby yet. It was really sweet and I was a sucker for a pregnant woman, too. I remembered clearly the first time I felt my son kick in his mother’s womb. In the middle of the night. In the middle of my back. Shadows of things to come. Of course, it was too early to feel Francie’s baby. She was only halfway cooked. But holding her like that. Her cheeks were sunken and she had dark rings under her eyes. She looked up from a book she was reading and when she saw me she smiled and put it down. “Chris, you came.” I walked over to the bed and sat down, taking her hand in mine. It was cold and dry, not warm and soft as I had remembered it. “Yeah, Mom. I came. How are you feeling?” “I have good days and bad. Today I am OK. I have pain, but the drugs take care of that. Did you meet Liza?” “I did; she is, how do I say this, interesting.” My. More

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