so far

It's almost lunchtime and I'm heading north. The highway is choked with cars and I begin to worry about the time, but, after five or six miles, I see the blue lights and the tow truck. The traffic slows even more and I don't try to stop myself from staring at the side of the road. One car seems untouched, but the other is blackened and bent, the doors ajar and the hood folded at an unpleasant angle.

I drive by Target, Staples, and, finally, just before Center Street, pull into the parking lot of the fake-brick office building. The waiting room walls are decorated with Impressionist-style prints depicting faintly European scenes -- cafe tables shaded by umbrellas, stone steps leading to the sea. Behind the desk, the office staff are answering phones. I hear one of them say, "You need to take her to the emergency room right away" Someone's cellphone ring and the ringtone is the Goo Goo Dolls' Better Days.

The office door opens. It's Kyrie with Caden and another boy, equally small, equally blond. "This is Caden's friend, Declan," says Kyrie.

"Hi, Declan," I say, "Do you like dinosaurs too?" Declan is holding a plastic T-Rex, which he lets me look at while he transfers his juice box to the other hand.

We're ushered down the hallway ("Single file, everyone!," says Kyrie) to the small, dark ultrsound room. "How are you feeling?" the tech asks Kyrie as she picks up the monitor.

There's a pause, while I dig my nails into my palms. "Look!" Caden says to Declan, "There's the baby!" then, "Is that the baby, Mama?"

"That's right," says Kyrie, "Remember how I told you that the baby lives in a special place in Mama's tummy?" But Caden has already lost interest. "I think we should be starting to get a dog, Mama."

The heartbeat is right on target. The size is too, and maybe even a couple of days ahead. The tech prints out a few pictures and Kyrie puts them in her bag.

"Can we go to the pool, Mama?" asks Caden, as we walk out, "Can we go to the museum?"

We all ride the elevator together to the lobby. "Bye, Caden. Bye, Declan. Bye Kyrie." I wave and open the door of my car. "Wish you would step back from that ledge, my friend," says the radio as I wait for the light to change.

A right, then a left just after the strip mall brings me back to the highway. I'm heading south and, in the breakdown lane, someone is riding a motorcycle without a helmet. I'm going exactly the speed limit, but I'm still the slowest car on the road.