“I’m not very hungry, but please, come in! I might have a little glass of wine. I know you can’t, but I think I will.” And then she blew her nose.

“Maybe you can stuff down a little because I haven’t really had a full dinner yet. I brought enough for both of us. The men are more focused on the ball game and I missed having you at my table.”

“But no one else did.”

“Get the plates out,” Iris said. And she said it sternly.

When Gwen had set the table, Iris served their dinner. The gravy needed a little nuking but everything else had held up just fine. When they were seated before their plates and Gwen had her wine, she dipped her fork into her dinner.

Iris took a few bites before she spoke. “I want you to stop feeling sorry for yourself right now because this was your decision. You sent Norm to our house. And don’t expect me to thank you for that, either. If I can’t feel sorry for myself, seventeen months pregnant and having slaved over a big holiday meal, then you don’t get a pass, either. Besides, not only did no one mention your absence, they didn’t notice that I left. You know why? Because they’re idiots who can’t think past their stomachs, that’s why, and they take us for granted. And maybe you’re right, maybe we should just divorce the hell out of all of them. But you signed on for this and so did I and if we’re a little lonely right now it’s because we allowed this to happen and look what it got us. I shouldn’t have let Norm move in—I’m too pregnant and touchy for him right now—but instead of saying so, I asked Seth to do it. If Seth had done it, I wouldn’t be here and they wouldn’t all be sitting in the living room in front of the television with their plates on their laps. I hate them.”

Gwen just stared at her while Iris shoveled a few more bites into her mouth. “Iris, you’re crying,” Gwen finally said.

Iris wiped at her cheeks. “Small wonder,” she muttered.

“Honey, you’re exhausted,” Gwen said. “You’re not going back there. When we’re done with this beautiful dinner you’re going to put your feet up in the living room while I clean up and make you a nice cup of tea. You’re not going back to your house until the TV is off and the kitchen is spotless—I’ll see to that.”

Iris realized something. She should have realized it before. It was a special holiday and she was about to have a baby—without her own mother. For the past several years, since her mother died, Gwen had been her surrogate mother and she’d been counting on Gwen to preside over the dinner and also to be with her when the baby came. Seth would be her coach and partner but Gwen would be her stand-in mother. And what had Gwen done? She drew a line in the sand having finally had enough of Norm’s cranky, silent ways. Iris might even sympathize. But did Gwen have to do this now?

“I miss my mother,” Iris said.

“Of course you do, sweetheart. When we’re done and you’ve had a nice, calming cup of tea, I’ll go over to your house and get Norm and bring him home. I don’t really want him back but it was so inconsiderate of me to suggest he go to your house. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”

“I understand,” Iris said with a sniff and a sob. “But wasn’t it inconsiderate of him, too? And Seth, for not preventing it?”

“Inbred, I’m afraid,” Gwen said.

“Are you really going to divorce him?” Iris asked with a hiccup and another sob.

“Possibly,” she said with a shrug. “But now it’s more because he doesn’t care that I’m divorcing him.” She took a sip of her wine. “I might just ignore him for the rest of his life, not that he’d notice.”

“Oh, Gwen...”

“I think maybe you’re overwrought,” Gwen said. “It’s not like we haven’t bickered for forty-five years.” She picked up her fork again. “You did a lovely job on the dinner, Iris.”

“Thank you. I have a beautiful centerpiece on the table, too. I wish I’d brought it. We’re the only ones who care.”

They ate a little more in silence and then Iris pushed her plate away. “I might’ve overdone it a bit,” she said, rubbing her belly. “I might not have eaten a full meal at my house but I sure put a dent in it. I didn’t need this much.”

The front door opened and Seth, looking frantic, stormed in. “Iris!” He rushed to her, taking into account the remnants of dinner on the table. He dropped to one knee beside her chair. “I thought you were in the bathroom!”

She looked at her watch. “For thirty minutes?” she asked.

“Who am I to judge,” he said with a shrug. “Are you all right?”

She was a little flushed and trembling. “Actually, no... I don’t feel very well. I think I ate too much. And I have a lot of gas. And I...” She groaned and leaned forward. “Wow,” she said through her groan.

Without warning, there was the sound and sensation of dripping. She looked at her husband with wide eyes. “Uh-oh,” she said. “My water broke.”

He immediately pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “I guess we’re going to the hospital,” he said. He called one of the other deputies. “Iris’s water broke,” he said into the phone. “I’m off call and you’re on. I’ll be at Pacific Hospital.”

* * *

Iris had mistakenly believed that since she so efficiently went into labor without even realizing it, since the baby was a little early, the birth would be fast and slick and easy. But it was not. When she did get to the labor and delivery ward, she was four centimeters, which was only one more than necessary to be admitted. And then, thanks to a very tiring day, a lot of stress and a huge double meal, she was sick as a dog. And fretful.

She labored through the night, and even with the assistance of an epidural, she was pretty miserable. Gwen had followed them to the hospital and stayed with Iris and Seth through their very long night and cheered her on when she began to push. Norm had also gone to the hospital and took up his post in the hallway outside Iris’s room, getting regular updates from Seth.

Finally little Rose was born. Rose was named after Iris’s late mother and, since they had been in the flower business before selling the shop to Grace, naming baby girls for flowers was something of a family tradition.