months. Ruth sat up, under the table, leaned against its center post, and was very quiet.
“Stan,” Mrs. Pommeroy said, “how nice to see you.”
“Well, it’s about the fuck time you stopped by and saw your own goddamn daughter,” said Kitty Pommeroy.
“Hey, Kitty,” Stan said. “Is Ruth around?”
“Somewhere,” Mrs. Pommeroy said. “Somewhere. She’s always around somewhere. It is nice to see you, Stan. Long time. Want a hot roll?”
“Sure. I’ll give one a try.”
“Were you out to haul this morning, Stan?”
“I had a look at ’em.”
“Keep any?”
“I kept a few. I think this is about it for everyone else, though. But I’ll probably stay out there for the winter. See what I can find. How’s everything over here?”
There was an attention-filled silence. Kitty coughed into her fist. Ruth made herself as small as she could under the large oak table.
“We’ve missed having you come by for dinner,” Mrs. Pommeroy said. “You been eating with Angus Addams these days?”
“Or alone.”
“We always have plenty to eat over here, Stan. You’re welcome any time you like.”
“Thanks, Rhonda. That’s nice of you. I miss your cooking,” he said. “I was wondering if you know what Ruthie’s plans might be.”
Ruthie. Hearing this, Ruth had a touch of heartache for her father.
“I suppose you should talk to her about that yourself.”
“She say anything to you? Anything about college?”
“You should probably talk to her yourself, Stan.”
“People are wondering,” Stan said. “I got a letter from her mother.”
Ruth was surprised. Impressed, even.
“Is that right, Stan? A letter. That’s been a long time coming.”
“That’s right. She said she hasn’t heard from Ruth. She said she and Miss Vera were disappointed Ruth hadn’t made a decision about college. Has she made a decision?”
“I couldn’t say, Stan.”
“It’s too late for this year, of course. But her mother said maybe she could start after Christmas. Or maybe she could go next fall. It’s up to Ruth, I don’t know. Maybe she has other plans?”
“Should I leave?” Kitty asked. “You want to tell him?”
“Tell me what?”
Under the table, Ruth felt queasy.
“Kitty,” Mrs. Pommeroy said. “Please.”
“He doesn’t know, right? You want to tell him in private? Who’s telling him? Is she going to tell him?”
“That’s OK, Kitty.”
“Tell him what?” Stan Thomas asked. “Tell me what in private?”
“Stan,” Mrs. Pommeroy said, “Ruth has something to tell you. Something you’re not going to like. You need to talk to her soon.”
Eddie staggered over to the kitchen table, lifted a corner of the tablecloth, and peeked in at Ruth, who was sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest. He squatted over his huge diaper and stared at her. She stared back. His baby face had a puzzled look.
“I’m not going to like what?” Stan said.
“It’s really something Ruth should talk to you about, Stan. Kitty spoke too freely.”
“About what?”
Kitty said, “Well, guess what, Stan. What the hell. We think Ruth’s going to have a baby.”
“Kitty!” Mrs. Pommeroy exclaimed.
“What? Don’t holler at me. Christ’s sake, Rhonda, Ruth doesn’t have the guts to tell him. Get it the hell over with. Look at the poor guy, wondering what the hell’s going on.”
Stan Thomas said nothing. Ruth listened. Nothing.
“She hasn’t told anyone but us,” Mrs. Pommeroy said. “Nobody knows about it, Stan.”
“They’ll know soon enough,” Kitty said. “She’s getting fat as all hell.”
“Why?” Stan Thomas asked blankly. “Why do you think my daughter’s having a baby?”
Eddie crawled under the kitchen table with Ruth, and she handed him his filthy peanut butter spoon. He grinned at her.
“Because she hasn’t had her period in four months and she’s getting fat!” Kitty said.
“I know this is upsetting,” Mrs. Pommeroy said. “I know it’s hard, Stan.”
Kitty snorted in disgust. “Don’t worry about Ruth!” she put in, loudly, firmly. “This is no big deal!”
Silence hung in the room.
“Come on!” Kitty said. “There’s nothing to having a baby! Tell him, Rhonda! You had about twenty of ’em! Easy breezy! Anyone with clean hands and common sense can do it!”
Eddie stuck the spoon in his mouth, pulled it out, let forth a delighted howl. Kitty lifted the tablecloth and peered in. She started to laugh.
“Didn’t even know you was there, Ruth!” Kitty shouted. “Forgot all about you!”
EPILOGUE
Giants are met with in all the higher groups of animals. They interest us not only on account of their absolute size, but also in showing to what degree individuals may surpass the mean average of their race. It may be a question whether lobsters which weigh from 20-25 pounds are to be regarded as giants in the technical sense,