clenching feeling, then it would back off. I'd have a few minutes of feeling better, then it would start again.
By the time I heard Jack unloading groceries in the kitchen, I was sweating and scared. I was lying with my back to the bedroom door, and I thought of turning over to face him, but it seemed like a lot of trouble to move. His footsteps stopped in the door.
"Lily, you're bleeding," he said. "Did you know?" There was lot of panic behind the calm words.
"No," I said, in the grip of one of those pulses of pain. "Gosh, and I put a pad on, just in case. I've never had this much trouble." I was feeling too miserable to be embarrassed.
"Surely this isn't just your period?" he asked. He went around to the side of the bed I was facing and crouched down to look at me.
"I don't think so," I said, bewildered. "I'm so sorry. I'm just never sick."
He glared at me. "Don't apologize," he said. "You're white as a sheet. Listen, Lily, I know you're the woman and I'm the guy, but are these pains you're having... have you by any chance been timing them?"
"Why would I do that?" I asked, irritated.
"Your back hurts?" he asked, as though he were scared of the answer.
I nodded.
"Low down?"
I nodded again.
"Are you late?"
"I'm never very regular. Hand me the calendar." Jack got my bank giveaway calendar from the nail in the kitchen and I flipped back to the months before. I counted. "Well, this one is late. I don't know why it's so painful, my last one was just nothing. A couple of spots."
If I was as white as a sheet, we were a matching set. Jack lost all his color.
"What did you say?" he asked.
I repeated myself.
"Lily," he said, as if he was bracing himself. "Honey, I think you ... I think we need to get you to the hospital."
"You know I don't have insurance," I said. "I can't afford a hospital bill."
"I can," Jack said grimly. "And you're going."
I was as astonished as I could be. Jack had never spoken to me that way. He said, "I'm going to call an ambulance."
But I balked at that. It would take us only four minutes to get to the hospital in Shakespeare, and that's even if we caught the red light.
"Just put the bath mat down over your car seat," I suggested, "in case I leak any more." Jack could see I wouldn't go unless he did as I'd said, so he grabbed the bath mat and took it out to his car.
Then he returned to help me up, and we went out to the car during a moment when I wasn't actively in pain. I got in and buckled up, and Jack hurried around to his side of the car and jammed the key into the ignition. We went backward at a tremendous rate, and Jack got out into the street as though there were never any traffic.
After a minute, I didn't care. I was really hurting.
Suddenly, deep inside me, I felt a kind of terrible wrench. "Oh," I said sharply, bending forward. I took a deep breath, let it out... and the pain stopped.
"Lily?" Jack asked, his voice frantic. "Lily? What's happening?"
"It's over," I said in relief. I looked sideways at Jack, but he didn't seem to think that was good news. Just when I was about to ask him if he'd heard me, I felt a gush of wet warmth, and I looked down to see blood. A lot of blood.
I felt very tired. I thought I would lean my head against the car window. It felt cool against my cheek. Jack glanced over and nearly hit the car ahead of us.
"What's happened to me?" I asked Jack from a far distance, as we pulled into the emergency room carport and he pushed open his door.
"Stay right there!" he yelled, and disappeared inside the building. The bath mat underneath me turned red. I congratulated myself on my foresight, trying not to admit to myself that I was terrified. In seconds, a nurse came out with a wheelchair. Jack helped me out of the car, and the minute I stood up my legs were drenched in a gush of fluid. I stared down at myself, embarrassed and frightened.
"What's happened to me?" I asked again.
"Hon, you're miscarrying," the nurse said briskly, as if any fool should have known that.
And I guess she was right.
Chapter Seven
Carrie was there in