A shipment had arrived at the hardware store, and he had stayed to help unload everything.
That evening, Margaret had visited Rachel.
She had not come with dinner.
She had not come to help.
She had come with accusations.
“You’re making my son into your servant,” Margaret had said.
Rachel had been sitting at the kitchen table, organizing baby clothes.
“I never asked Daniel to do anything.”
“You don’t have to ask. Women like you know how to make men feel guilty.”
Rachel remembered trying to stay calm.
She remembered telling herself that Margaret was simply difficult.
Then Margaret had noticed the ultrasound photos on the refrigerator.
A small smile had crossed her face.
“You really think this baby will keep him?”
