Then I chided myself for my snobbery, reminded myself that children grew up healthy and cherished in the poorest of homes. But I knew it wasn't the poverty that bothered me. It was the air that the people who lived under this roof had given up. They no longer cared—about peeling paint, or the lack of bushes to soften the mean lines of the old house, or the absence of stepping stones to keep visitors' feet dry on messy days. There was not even a two-dollar doormat outside the front door to wipe my feet on.

But someone had put a big black bow on the door knocker, to show this was a house of mourning.

Martin leaned forward to rap on the wood and slid his arm around me. I leaned into its warmth, my hand absently patting Hayden's round little bottom. I hardly recognized the woman who answered the door as the same Lenore Harbor I'd met at the wedding. She'd put out a great effort then, I realized, seeing her now. Her hair had been done, her dress and shoes new. And she hadn't been smoking. A cigarette hung from the corner of her mouth now, jiggling when she spoke to us out of the other corner.

"I halfway expected you, Martin. Come on in, I guess. I haven't had a chance to clean up, I'm sure you know we've just been knocked on our butts by this news about Craig."

Her voice was raspy, but she didn't sound exactly as I'd expected. Sad, yes... but not agonized. She wasn't Craig's blood mother, of course. My heart began to sink.

I tried my hardest not to look around the room, but it was impossible not to absorb the depression that hung over the ancient furniture and loose linoleum, the plethora of overflowing ashtrays and discarded magazines. The Harbors had received a couple of plants and some sympathy cards, and they were arranged on the shelf of a nasty maple hutch. The ribbons on the arrangements stood out in brilliant contrast to the rest of the material in the dingy living room. But it wasn't the age of the furnishings, or even the presence of the ashtrays; it was the lack of maintenance, or care, of these things that bothered me. This wasn't what I had pictured as a temporary home for Hayden.

"And this is your wife?"

Lenore Harbor had met me at the wedding, but didn't seem to recall that. Martin reintroduced me, and Lenore waved her hand at the couch. We perched there uneasily after piling all Hayden's gear near the door. Lenore turned her head toward the back of the house and called, "Hugh! Martin and his little wife are here!"

There was a curious sound from the next room, a kind of long wheeze, and then Hugh Harbor made his way into the living room. He was preceded by the thump! shuffle, thump! shuffle of a person using a walker. Hugh was about Lenore's age, somewhere in his midfifties I estimated, and he was gaunt, with neutral coloring and light brown hair outlining a tonsure.

He greeted us in a wheezy voice. I noticed an oxygen tank sitting in the corner. Surely it was dangerous to smoke in a house with oxygen tanks? I remembered Rory saying that Hugh Harbor had been ill. I wished now I'd paid more attention, asked more questions. But in the rush to find someone to take Hayden off my hands, I hadn't thought enough... about anything. "I'm so glad you made the drive to come back to Corinth," Hugh Harbor said. I wondered how he knew we'd driven. He eased back into a green vinyl armchair with stuffing protruding from one arm. There was a towel spread over the seat. I suspected the towel covered worse depredations. "We don't think that Gina could've hurt poor Craig." Hugh wheezed. "Musta been some thief, don't you think? Or some guy who just saw Gina, thought she looked good? Craig wouldn't a let anyone mess with Gina."

"We're sure Regina didn't have anything to do with it," Martin agreed firmly. I could tell he was mighty relieved. It would have been horrible if they'd believed Regina had killed Craig.

"I know Hayden will be a consolation to you," I said, but I couldn't hear any excitement in my voice. I sort of extended the baby, who'd been lying in my arms.

They gave me a very peculiar look, and I could tell they'd been married many years. Their faces held almost identical degrees of puzzlement and surprise. "Of course, babies are wonderful things to have," Lenore said, with a distressing lack of enthusiasm. "Hugh and I raised a houseful of them. We didn't know you and Martin was even expecting, young lady." Martin and I turned to look at each other. We probably had twin expressions too; and they were of sheer bafflement.

I didn't think I could talk, even if I could think of what to say. Martin looked down at Hayden, back at Lenore, who was taking advantage of the break in the conversation to light another cigarette.

"This isn't our baby," Martin said, not sounding very sure about it. "This is Craig and Regina's boy, Hayden."

You would have thought we'd announced we were going to strip and have sex on the floor. The Harbors once again had twin expressions—this time, shock and fascination. After they'd absorbed what Martin had said, emotions scudded across their faces like clouds on a windy day.

"This is the first we've heard of it," Lenore said finally. I could have sworn it wasn't the first thing she thought to say. Hugh nodded agreement, the top of his bald dome glinting in the overhead light as his head bobbed back and forth. "You didn't know Craig and Regina were expecting a child?" Even knowing the answer, I had to ask. My heart couldn't have sunk further. It was at the level of my big toe.

"No," Hugh said. "They never said nothing about having a baby. Are you sure this boy is theirs?"

We did the Tweedledum and Tweedledee thing again, searching each other's faces.

I gave a tiny shrug.

"That's what Regina told us," Martin said carefully. I had expected Martin to be visibly upset again, but to my relief, he had returned to his more familiar persona of cagey businessman. His face was unreadable; his hands loosely clasped each other in a relaxed way.

I gathered Hayden closer to my chest. I understood that I would be taking him out of this house with me. I looked at his little pile of paraphernalia and gave a silent sigh. All to be hauled back up the motel stairs again. "How much did you see of Regina and Craig?" I asked, my voice as soft and simple as I could make it. Didn't want to put them on the defensive. "Well, I ain't been well," Hugh said apologetically. "I have good spells. I was having one about the time they got married. But I ain't been so good since about late July, and I'm afraid I take up most of Lenore's time." We had been fools to bring Hayden up here. I saw clearly that these people had not the resources, the legal obligation, or the slightest inclination to take care of Hayden even temporarily. How could we have been so blind? I had followed an anxious Martin's lead without a thought, consumed by my own conflicts. I should have listened to Angel; might have, if her baby hadn't decided that afternoon was the time to arrive. Angel had figured we should stay in Lawrenceton, and she'd been right.

I barely listened while the Harbors explained to Martin over and over again why they really hadn't had a chance to go visit the newlyweds since the wedding. The farm was far out in the country, they emphasized, and it was so hard for Hugh to get around. And, Lenore Harbor pointed out righteously, they hadn't been invited.

"Did Craig come to see you here?" Martin asked. He'd dropped by once or twice, the Harbors admitted, usually with that friend of his, that Rory.

It took a few more questions from Martin to establish that the couple hadn't seen Regina—except across a store—since a week after the wedding. But they'd seen Craig quite often.

"You know," Hugh said with an effort, his breathing increasingly difficult, "we thought, when Craig got married—and we stood in as his folks at the wedding—we thought Craig's old ways were over. Gina being a little older than him, we thought she'd hold him down, make him toe the line. We were—well, I guess Lenore and I are maybe a little ashamed to say it—kind of relieved. Craig turned out to be a bigger responsibility than we ever dreamed, him getting into trouble so often. We was glad to take him in, Lenore being his aunt and so on, and we took care of him through high school, but I won't say it was all peaches and cream. We'd raised girls before, but that boy was a whole different kit and caboodle."