2.

Gilbert thought it over. "Should be quick. Three hours, tops."

I smiled without any warmth in it.

"I've been having contractions half the day. You think I can hold on three more hours until you're back to deliver?"

He mumbled something, unable to answer.

The nurse beside him rushed in to save him.

"Ma'am, you should be glad Dr. Reed's doing this. From what I hear, Selma's his childhood sweetheart, and her husband can't make it back in time, so Dr. Reed's stepping in to be with her through the birth. That shows he's loyal, that he honors old ties. You married a good man!"

"Dr. Reed's always telling us how reasonable and understanding you are. You should show a little of that grace, the way a first wife would."

"Right, having a baby is a big deal, but it's a big deal over there too. Be a little patient, and let Dr. Reed make it up to you properly when he's back."

But being reasonable and understanding, is that just a reason to let people walk all over me?

I said, cutting, "If they're both big deals, then why isn't Selma the one waiting?"

That shut them up. They dropped their eyes to their shoes, awkward.

I turned to Gilbert.

"I'll ask you one last time. Do you really mean to go stay with her?"

He sighed. "Worst case, I'll have the anesthetist give you the epidural first. Julia, we've been married three years. What's three more hours."

I didn't let him finish.

"Forget it. Go stay with Selma."

Gilbert took it as me caving, and left with his mind at ease to go find Selma.

I curled my hand into a fist.

That's right. I'd endured it for three years.

But today, I wasn't going to endure anything.

My bladder was killing me. Late in the pregnancy the weight pressed down on it, so I already couldn't hold much, and since the contractions started at three that morning it had only gotten worse.

I got up to go to the bathroom at the end of the hall.

I'd barely climbed off the bed, hadn't even gotten my shoes on, when a hand yanked me back hard.

The back of my head slammed into the headboard, and a big lump swelled up right away.

A young nurse smirked at me.

"Sorry. Did I pull too hard?"

"But it isn't the best time for Selma to deliver yet. The doctor says this is better for the baby."

"Dr. Reed's the one helping her to the bathroom. He told me to watch you and not let you off the bed, so you won't go over there and give Selma trouble."

As she said it, Gilbert came out of the ward across the hall, carefully supporting Selma toward the bathroom.

My sister rubbed the back of my head, fuming.

"Gilbert, you've got plenty of strength for another woman, but helping my sister to the bathroom is too much trouble? And pinning her to the bed so she can't move, if that isn't bullying, what is?"

"She said she needed the bathroom before we even left. You were the one who said the hospital room had its own bathroom, insisting she rush over here. So this was all so you could see your old flame sooner?"

Before Gilbert could get a word out, Selma jumped in first, all sweetness.

"Julia, don't blame Gilbert. He's just afraid that if he's here waiting on you hand and foot, he'll end up leaving me stranded."

She really knew how to talk.

And me, stranded waiting on him?

Gilbert handed me a plastic bedpan, clearly the cheapest kind from the hospital shop.

"Getting off the bed's hard for you, so just go in this. I'll have a nurse come empty it later."

I didn't touch it.

I stared at him with something that wasn't quite a smile.

"Gilbert, you're a doctor. Don't tell me you don't know a pregnant woman with a belly this size can't use one of these."

He looked visibly awkward.

"I just had so much going on, I forgot. Once Selma's done over there, I'll borrow her portable toilet for you. Her labor's going long, she can't hold it in to deliver. When I'm back I'll buy you a nicer one."

Then Selma called him over again.

"Gilbert, it hurts a little. Can you come sit with me and talk?"

Gilbert hurried over and sat down at her bedside.

He even told her jokes to take her mind off it.

Worried she was uncomfortable, he thoughtfully rubbed her back for her.

All at once I felt like a joke.

During the pregnancy I'd wake up in the night with my legs cramping, in pain, and beg him to rub them for me.

All I ever got was, aren't you sick of this.

Only now did I understand it wasn't that he had no patience. He just wouldn't spend it on me.

Even that so-called private bathroom had been kept for Selma. All I was good enough for was her leftover bedpan.

From beginning to end, the person in his heart had never been me.

My phone buzzed. My ex had sent his location. He was already on the way.

Almost time. This little show was about to end.

3.

Gilbert came back from the room across the hall and tossed a pair of cotton slippers down by my bed.

"Julia, get up and change your shoes."

For a second I thought he'd finally remembered I was the one who was his wife. Before I could say anything, he went on.

"Selma's slippers have thin soles. Trade with her. Wear hers."

I stared at him. "She can't catch a chill, but I can?"

His face darkened. "Why are you making a thing out of something this small? It's just shoes. You're not even leaving the room."

My sister heard that and put her hands on her hips.

"Did a door slam on your head? Her feet are two sizes smaller than my sister's. How's she supposed to walk in them, all cramped? And couldn't Selma have brought her own thick socks?"

"My sister didn't bring extra shoes either. The slippers she's wearing now she had to borrow from the nurses' station. You want her standing on shoes that don't fit for three hours?"

Gilbert pinched the bridge of his nose, irritated, and there was a threat in his voice.

"Julia, I'll add a couple layers of insoles for you later. Don't make me come change them myself. If it comes to that, this becomes a very different situation."

My eyes went to Selma, smiling in the doorway.

The thick wool socks pulled up on her feet were the ones I'd gotten last month, specially, for Gilbert's night shifts, so his feet wouldn't be cold on his rounds.

When it was my turn, all that was left were two thin insoles.

I braced myself against the edge of the bed and pushed upright, sitting straight.

"Gilbert, I'm not changing these shoes, and I don't need you for the delivery either."

He blinked, then let out a cold laugh.

"Julia, are you done? We're husband and wife. If I'm not the one looking after you, who is? Besides, you've got no money, no job, no connections. Apart from me, your free labor, who else can you afford?"

I saw the mockery in his eyes, and all that was left in my chest was the drop of disappointment.

But in the beginning it was him who'd said his woman shouldn't have to go out and slave for money, that people would laugh at him for being useless, that he would provide for me.

"I mean it."

Beside us, Selma suddenly cut in.

"Gilbert, I don't want to force Julia either. I'll just make do in socks, it's fine."

Then she pretended to bend down and take off the shoes.

Gilbert panicked at once. "Selma, don't, I'll come put them on for you!"

Then he pulled a long face and glared at me.

"If you have to throw a fit, at least look at the timing. You're about to give birth and you pick now to make trouble. You don't need me? Fine, then sort yourself out."

"Whatever happens during the delivery, don't call for me. But these shoes, you're changing them, no question."

He hurried over to Selma and crouched in front of her, carefully loosening her laces, his voice going soft.

"No patience at all. Such a willful little baby."

"Having a child is like a woman being reborn. She has to be comfortable. It means everything goes smoothly after, a whole life of good fortune."

I watched it, and it hurt.

Same act, putting on shoes, and for me there was nothing but cold words.

For Selma, he was all tenderness.

And he had no idea he was doing it.

As Selma and I passed each other in the corridor, she suddenly pulled her foot back and cried out loud.

"Julia, just because you're upset about the shoes doesn't mean you get to step on me. That really hurt."

Gilbert rushed to help her sit down, then slapped me across the face.

"Julia, what is wrong with you? I'm the one who asked for the swap. If you've got a problem, take it up with me. Was it really necessary to start something at a moment this important for Selma?"

My sister rushed over to catch me, and my back slammed into the bedside cabinet, the edge digging in sharp even through the hospital gown.

4.

I held back my sister, who wanted to fight for me, and said in a wronged voice.

"There's a camera in this ward. Go to the nurses' station right now and pull the footage. Let's see whose foot actually stepped on hers."

"So now you've learned to deny it too!"

Seeing me refuse to admit it, Gilbert boiled over with rage.

But the moment Selma heard the word footage, her face froze, and she tugged at his sleeve.

"Gilbert, let it go. The nurses work hard enough as it is."

"Maybe I clipped the corner of the wall when I turned. You know how bad my sense of direction is. I might have blamed Julia by mistake."

"One thing after another today. I don't know, maybe it's this body of mine that keeps drawing trouble."

She said it while sliding her eyes over toward me, every word hinting that I was clumsy and rough.

Gilbert gave a small nod and let it drop, but the look he turned on me was still displeased.

I honestly didn't want to spend another second looking at these two, so I just shut the ward door.

I'd had less than ten minutes of peace before Gilbert shoved the door open and barged in.

He clamped a hand around my arm, his face taut with urgency.

"Julia, there you are. Finally."

Hearing that, my sister shot me a startled look and raised her eyebrows.

I knew what she was hinting at, but I didn't have a shred of feeling left for Gilbert now.

Sure enough, he opened his mouth.

"Selma's friend can read the signs of an unborn baby. She says the one in your belly has too much heat to it, and it clashes with the girl Selma's carrying."

"Now Selma's been thrown off by you, the baby won't settle, keeps stirring. You have to come sit at her bedside so the balance evens out and steadies her. Come with me right now!"

I didn't want to, but Gilbert dragged me to Selma's ward anyway.

A crowd stood at the foot of Selma's bed, and on the floor sat a basin of murky mugwort soaking in talisman water.

They watched me with their brows knit tight, as if I were something filthy.

Selma lay on the bed with a pained look, hand over her belly, moaning softly, as if her baby really were restless inside her.

"Julia's here. What do we do next to fix it?" Gilbert asked anxiously.

Selma's friend jumped in at once.

"First step. We take the mugwort soaked in incense-ash water and whip it across her. The harder the better. That's how you drive her heat off her clean, so she won't disturb Selma's baby again down the line."

I hadn't even processed it.

Gilbert's coworkers and friends, along with Selma's friend, had already grabbed fistfuls of dripping mugwort and were swinging them down over my head and face.

My sister tried to lunge over and shield me, but they had the numbers and pinned her down flat, even clapped a hand over her mouth.

They boxed me in the middle, the mugwort lashing my cheeks and neck, rank and wet.

The stalks dragged across my face and left endless streaks of blood.

My hair was yanked loose, bits of shredded weed stuffed down the collar of my hospital gown, and every inch of exposed skin burned like it was on fire.

I threw my arms up to guard my face and screamed at Gilbert.

"Gilbert, have you lost your mind? This is all backward superstition!"

He stood beside Selma's bed, letting her lean against his side while he slowly rubbed her belly for her. He turned his head to me and spread his hands.

"With something like this, better safe than sorry. I'm not gambling with Selma and the baby."

"Besides, your parents are still rotting in prison. Someone who comes from roots like that, how clean could she possibly be?"