"You're a woman," Grant pointed out cruelly, passing the buck to me. "You've had two babies."
"Yes," I came back at him, "but I just had them--I didn't deliver them."
"Well, you won't have to deliver these either. I mean, this one. The doctor will be here in a few minutes."
"I know, but--what about in the meantime?"
"Well," Grant said uneasily, "I suppose you should go in once and see how she's getting along. Maybe you can give her some aspirin or something."
"Aspirin!" I snorted.
Donna was playing contentedly in the bedroom, stacking blocks, knocking them over, and stacking them up again. David was outside adding another worn-out baby blanket to the bed he had made in the garage of cabin 6 for his new black cat. With the children occupied, and the dinner dishes done, obviously I couldn't claim any pressing domestic duties.
"Well... come on," I said.
The door of cabin 3 had never looked so forbidding. While we were standing in front of it, wondering whether or not to knock, little Eugene brushed past us and opened it. He went to stand beside the bed, where he looked from his mother to us with big, dark eyes.
"You had the baby yit?" he asked her anxiously.