It started at midnight. I woke from a strange dream. I had a vague impression of it as I opened my eyes, but it disappeared and gave way to excruciating pain. I couldn't help but scream. I was covered in sweat and breathing heavy. I screamed again and Frank and Mary ran into the room.

"Call the doctor!" Mary yelled to Frank. Mary turned to me, "all right darling. Just breathe. I think you're sweet baby will be here tonight. He's a little early, but he's coming."

The excruciating contraction stopped and I felt a wave of relief wash over my whole body. The abrupt end of the tightness and pain caused my body to go limp. For some reason, like with most hurt I thought it was done once it stopped, even though I knew it was really only starting. Mary propped pillows under my head and placed clean rags around the mattress. She reached under me, and whispered, "your water broke."

I felt it rising up again. I started breathing heavily as the cramp came on slowly like a wave starting to rise up from the ocean. "Mary hold my hand, I'm afraid Mary. It's happening again!"

She held my hand and I squeezed as the ocean rose, higher than last time. The pain caused me to scream again. And then go dizzy. It seemed to keep rising.

"Mary it's not going to stop! Something's wrong with my baby! Mary something's wrong!"

Mary wiped my face with a cool cloth. She leaned close. "Darling, your baby is fine. Just hold my hand until the doctor gets here."

The room was dimly lit and it seemed that the contractions had slowed or I had found a rhythm, breathing and closing my eyes in between. Then, when it started again, the dull pain rising, I had grown accustomed to their predictable course. I cried and gritted my teeth and Mary wiped my head with the cool cloth. I was lucid for a moment and I asked her if having the baby with the doctor here would be like it was with Carmen in the hospital.

"I don't know sweetheart. I haven't had a baby. And the ladies I knew who had never talked about it."

The pain combined with fear and I started to cry again. "I'm afraid. I don't want it to be like with Carmen."

"Shhh. Whatever they do, you and the baby will be fine."

She continued talking to me but her words were canceled out by the tightening cramp, which unbelievably had intensified. I had just gotten used to it, and then it became worse than before. Instead of five minutes between each contraction, they were coming faster.

"Frank!" Mary screamed.

Frank rushed in but remained in the doorway. "I'm waiting for Dr. Pope."

"She's going to have this baby. She's in so much pain!"

I screamed and pulled hard on the quilt. "Something's wrong Mary! Something's wrong with the baby!" The wave of pain crested and then retreated, but I was so exhausted and knew another was seconds away.

"I don't want to." I cried. "I don't want to any more!" It was approaching. The agony was going to grow and I knew I couldn't do it. I wanted it to stop.

"You can't stop it darling. You're in the middle of it. Just tell me what to do"

"I want to stand up."

"No that's not a good idea."

Frank was still standing in the doorway. As I screamed again he shouted over my cries, "I'll go see if he's here yet. It's a ways and the roads are confusing in the dark."

"Yes, go see."

The eruption of another contraction ignited inside of me again and I begged Mary to let me stand up.

"Please wait until the doctor gets here. He'll be here soon."

After another bout of stabbing contractions, I panicked again, "I think the baby's coming out! Mary put your hand on my stomach. Is he coming out?!" The agony struck again, immediately and unexpectedly. There was no pattern for me to recognize anymore. It was nearly constant contractions and yet increasingly painful. I couldn't even scream I pulled the quilt between my teeth and bit down hard. Then a strong jolt ran through me and I screamed again. When I looked up, I saw a man standing next to the bed.

"Are you the doctor?" I cried. "Help me. Please help me. I think something's wrong with the baby!"

He was holding up a syringe with a long needle. Mary was now on the other side of the bed. I arched my back again and cried out and just as I did he thrust the needle into my arm. I felt the wave approaching, but it was distant. I thought I would just go to sleep, instead it had deceived me. Another God-forsaken scream came from somewhere within me. I could hear Mary's voice, now distant too.

"What have you given her?"

"Medicine to ease the pain. She won't remember."

"Is the baby all right? She is in so much pain."

"Haven't you had any children? The baby's crowning, it'll be born in no time. It's perfectly fine."

Their conversation must have gone on longer, but in my mind I had left the room. I was awake but dreaming. The dreams were in the distance too. I recognized the ocean and warmth. That was all I remembered about the rest of my labor.

I woke to the morning sun lighting up my bedroom. The window was open and the late summer air was dry and heavy. It permeated my senses. I looked around and it was as it had been. I was still tired and feeling strange. I realized that I hadn't had the baby yet. I reached to touch my stomach and where there had been a balloon not a day ago, it was soft and hollow.

"Mary!" I screamed. I was so lost.

Not a moment later the door opened. Mary was not rushing in as though anything was out of the ordinary.

"Oh Eve," she whispered.

"I think its time to have the baby, my stomach feels empty as if he's moved down and is ready to be born."

"Don't be silly, Darling." As she spoke Frank entered the room holding a bundle. 'It must be Charlie,' I thought as he handed the baby to Mary.

"Now most men would stay far away from a newborn. Not Frank. He was up all night rocking the baby."

She put him in my arms and I saw my infant child for the first time, "It's a boy" I whispered pulling the soft quilt down below his chin.

Mary sat on the edge of the bed. "It's our little Charlie."

Frank stood awkwardly for a moment. Smiled kindly and started out the door.

"Frank," I called to him. He turned and his expression suggested he'd softened towards me. As if the baby had sealed something between us. Not like with Mary but...something. "Thank you for protecting him all night while I was sleeping."

"He's an angel." Frank said and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

All I could do was stare at Charlie. He was fast asleep and his face was red. He wore the little knitted cap Mary had made for him and a soft quilt, a gift from the bridge club. As I examined him, his face looked somehow odd to me. His nose was pressed in and his head was not symmetrical.

"Is he all right Mary? Why does his face look like that?"

"He's perfect. A baby has a difficult journey just as the mother. His face will mold back the way it should be in a few days."

"Isn't he lovely?"

"You both are."

I couldn't hear anything except a raspy breathing that I remembered from holding Carmen's baby. "Little Charlie," I whispered and kissed his small head. "I love you. I love you. I love you more than anything."

"Should I leave you be with the baby?"

"No. Sit with me a minute. Do you want to bring the rocker closer and sit beside us?"

A smile crossed Mary's face, a serene look. She pulled the rocker across the room and sat beside the bed. I looked up at her. "You're his grandmother." I said to her. Her eyes filled with tears. This was the first time I had seen her emotional at all. She had never cried in front of me. She was always strong and full of humor.

"You are. Mary, I can't image any one more suited to motherhood than you. He'll love you and Frank so much." That was the moment I decided I would make her and Frank Charlie's guardians should something happen to me. I rocked him as I cradled him in my arms. "He's so beautiful."

That was how it was from that moment on. I was no longer just Eve. I was Charlie's mother. His little blue eyes were like Jeff's. I could see that, but even that—evidence of his father—didn't matter at all. He was mine, and a part of him also belonged to Frank and Mary. Once he was with us, we were complete.

Some of Mary's friends had warned me that the first few weeks with a new baby was a hard adjustment, sometimes it would remain difficult for months. That wasn't the case with me. I'd moved into motherhood with ease. I loved it, comforting him gave me a sense of purpose. Nurturing him fulfilled me.

One night I held him sleeping in my arms. I watched him, trying to fully understand my feelings. After only a few days he retained little evidence of birth, his lop-sided features had filled out and his face was growing round. I couldn't look at anything but him. It was dark outside that night and the moon provided a deep blue-gray hue. Otherwise it was just Charlie, the silence and me. I kissed his head and watched his little chest rise and fall with each breath. He was a warm bundle and every now and then his eyelids would move, he'd yawn or make a funny expression, furrowing his brow. "What are you thinking little Charlie?" I whispered almost inaudibly. A moment later his eyes opened. They were clear and alert. He was looking at me. At first it startled me. A little animal. Then the rhythm of his breathing began to match mine. He fixed his stare on me, a deeper intimacy than I'd ever known. He needed me and he already knew I was his mother. I was the one who would protect him no matter what. "I love you," I whispered and then I started to cry. Still, he kept his gaze on me. His little forehead furrowed again, and it caused me to smile. "You funny little boy," I was mesmerized by him. His lips began to pucker and he squirmed a bit. He was hungry. My milk had just come in. Dr. Pope had told Mary that I should only feed him from a bottle, as it was more sanitary that way. The instructions were to give him a bottle at bedtime, avoiding any nighttime feeding. I was to give him formula again in the morning and be sure feed him according to a strict schedule during the day. That first night I'd been sleeping so he hadn't been with me. When I tried to follow Dr. Pope's instructions the next morning, my baby seemed so distressed to me. I pulled him close and kept him warm but my instincts had told me he needed nourishment. In the morning, Mary had prepared and brought a sterilized glass bottle full of formula upstairs to me. She had a grimace on her face but handed it to me anyway. I didn't know why she disapproved, but when she said, "the doctor says it's full of vitamins the baby needs," I knew she felt differently. I could tell the baby was hungry in the hours before I was scheduled to feed him.

The second night, when he stared at me, I pulled him to my breast. Unlike the bottle where his little mouth searched and attempted to suckle ending in frustration and screams, with me he knew how to find my milk. He turned his head to reach my nipple from the right angle and once he found it, his little cheeks moved in and out greedily drawing the milk. My body filled with warmth and a kind of calm. My breast began to tingle all over, like specks of silver suspended in liquid falling in random directions. That feeling gave way to a rush of what I'd come to know as milk being produced and when that happened, Charlie's suckling grew more rapid. After a short while, his eyes closed and his lips loosened from my breast. His tiny head rested on my chest and for the first time, his breathing became regular. I closed my eyes too, but only let myself half sleep so to be sure to wake if he needed me.

The next morning at 6:00, there was a knock at the door. "It's me, Mary. I've got Charlie's bottle."

"Come in" I said, keeping Charlie nursing on my breast. That was how it was with Mary. Ever since I had confessed the truth to her, we were confidants. I knew I could trust her. She had fixed things with Jeff. Harry did as Mary had said he would, he went to the museum and threated Jeff. I don't know exactly what he had said or did. All Mary had said was, "I don't think that man will be bothering you anymore." I didn't know until later that Mary had spoken with Jeff too. She had telephoned him and warned that if he didn't stop, she would send a letter to the Museum Director, telling the whole story. She had further threatened to include the picture of us together at the beach. She'd warned him that his pursuit of a woman who was trying to save her reputation and start a new life was far worse than my having an illegitimate baby.

I was genuinely relieved that Jeff was gone. I whole-heartedly embraced my new life in Bend. It made me realize that I really didn't love Jeff or want anything from him. At the same time, I kept his proposition in the back of my mind as an insurance policy. As crazy as it sounded, I had to always be thinking about my options should something have gone wrong. That was how it had to be, since beneath me there was just a foundation of lies. I had to remember that everything I'd built for myself, as beautiful as it was, was not secure. Still for Charlie, I would keep moving ahead. More than anything else, this new life was all Charlie. Every minute I lived was for my baby. I waited for time to blur the past until it didn't matter any more. Then I would exhale. I would let myself believe it was true, that somehow I'd survived a circumstance that many women couldn't have escaped.

When Mary entered my room with a bottle of formula and walked in on me nursing Charlie, a smile crossed her lips. "I'm so relieved that you are feeding him. I think it's better. Look at how precious he is. He needn't go hungry for hours. What does the doctor know? I didn't trust him at all. Charlie was almost out when he gave you the sho—" Mary stopped herself. I presumed that she didn't want to retell the events of the birth. In that moment, I didn't care about it at all. "He needn't go hungry." She repeated.

I smiled at her and when Charlie fell asleep again, I asked her if she wanted to take him from me for a little while so I could get some rest. She leaned over and gently lifted my precious baby. She walked over to the rocker by the window, sat down with Charlie and stared out towards the orchard. I fell in to a deep, restful sleep. Even in my dreams I watched over Charlie. I'd slept until early afternoon. Charlie's fussing had woken me up. I looked over at Mary and she was rocking him, singing a lullaby I grew to know well.

Go to sleep my baby close your pretty eyes.

Angels up above you looking at you dearie from the skies.

Great big moon a shinin come now don't you cry,

Go to sleep my baby close your pretty eyes,

Sandman is a comin time to say goodnight.

She had a soft, melodic voice. I had never heard her sing before, although she often hummed popular songs, Paper Doll or You Always Hurt the One You Love.

"He loves you," I said to her. She was lost in thought when I interrupted her.

"Oh you're up. Do you think you feel ready to come downstairs and sit with us out on the porch? Frank would love to see the baby."

"Yes. He looks like he's hungry. I'll nurse him and then put myself together and come down."

Mary smiled. "Oh and the girls are anxiously waiting to meet Charlie. They all think they're his aunties. They have gifts for you both. I didn't know, but they've spent quite a while sewing a new quilt for him. I guess they believed he'd be a boy too, they embroidered airplanes, baseball bats and trucks on it. In the center it says Charlie. I asked them to leave it for you, but they want to give it to you themselves. Really, they want to get their hands on Charlie and dote on him."

After I nursed Charlie, I lay him in the crib while I dressed. My maternity clothes now hung looser on my body. My stomach still looked swollen, but it was going back down. As I pulled a smock and skirt from the closet, my wool coat caught my eye. I remembered the letters from Jeff that I'd hidden there months ago. I wanted to look at the picture from the beach, compare it to Charlie. Did Charlie look like me or like his father? I retrieved the letter with the photograph in it. It was painful to look at myself, it was just as I'd felt when I showed it to Mary. I hated that girl. At the same time I realized that I couldn't wish she never existed. That was who I had been, and that person led to Charlie. Those indiscretions had led me to my joy. I took the picture over to the crib. Charlie looked up at me with those blue eyes, again clear and alert. I looked at Jeff in the photo and then back at Charlie. Charlie did resemble him and if Jeff and I were together and someone saw my baby, they would say he looks just like his father. How can a baby look like anyone? And so much so? Of course I didn't care. I just wondered if anyone questioned me, if Jeff came forward, would the truth would be apparent? There would be no way for me to deny his paternity. I didn't care, he was out of our lives. I went back to the armoire and placed the picture back in its hiding place, in the envelope and in the coat pocket.

As I picked Charlie up, I remembered what Jeff had told me about the poet, William Blake. There were the Songs of Innocence, the Songs of Experience. "Then," Jeff had said, "after that, there's ecstasy. Man is free from society's rules." With Charlie in my arms, my mind flashed on the night Jeff had described it to me. He'd been tracing my lips with his finger and then he whispered just before he kissed me, "Exuberance is Beauty."