Page 66 of The Soul Never Forgets

“It’s not so bad. I don’t need medicine. I’m fine.”

Gussy closes her eyes, and her breathing picks up. “Here comes the pain again.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Hold my hand and talk to me through the pain.”

“What should I say?”

“Talk about the baby.”

“I know you think the baby is a boy, but I think it’s a girl. A little baby girl with red hair and chestnut eyes just like you. Her name is going to be Rebecca Caroline Harrison, and she’ll wear little pink dresses with a matching bonnet on her head and little lace socks and booties.”

Gussy’s breathing slows, and she opens her eyes. “He’s a little baby boy with dark hair and blue eyes just like his daddy. We’ll name him William Franklin Harrison Jr., and he’ll wear little blue overalls just like yours.”

“Okay, my love. If you say it’s a boy, then it’s a boy.”

“I do say so. And we’re going to call him Will. I’ve decided.”

“Will. A good strong name for a strapping boy. I like it.”

Her breathing is back to normal. “Were you a big baby when you were born?”

“I was brawny according to my mother. The biggest of her four boys. She said I nearly sucked her dry because all I wanted to do was nurse.”

“I was scrawny and had a wet nurse.”

I place my hand on Gussy’s large abdomen. “This one doesn’t look scrawny. I think our son is going to take after me.”

“I think so too. He kicks like a mule.”

“Let’s hope he isn’t mule-headed like his old man.”

“You’re not so stubborn. Look how easily I convinced you that the baby is a boy.”

“I’d let you talk me into anything right now.”

Gussy stiffens and inhales deeply. “It’s another pain. Talk to me about something. Anything.”

“When our boy is big enough, we’ll buy waders for him and take him out to the secret crabbing spot by Mr. Le Blanc’s house. We’ll teach him how to catch blue crabs, and if we’re lucky, he’ll take after you and be a natural-born crabber.”

“Oh, I think the pains are going to get worse. That was a bad one.”

“What does that mean?”

“I hope it means things are moving along. I don’t want to do this all day and night.”

Gussy’s labor progresses at a normal rate. Or at least that’s what the doctor says. It feels way too slow for her and for me. The sun has gone down and been replaced by a bright full moon. She’s been at it for twelve hours, and I’ve been by her side for nine of them.

Gussy stiffens and lifts her lower body off the bed. “Frank!”

“What is it?”

“Something feels different. Get the doctor.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I think the baby is coming. Get the doctor. Hurry.”

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