The Perfect Mother(97)

“Greta! You made it.” The women shift, making room for her. “Finally.”

“Hurts, Mama.” Midas’s face is streaked with dusty tears. Winnie crouches down and presses him to her. The women under the willow tree stop talking and look at her as Midas’s cry grows shrill. “Too tight, Mama. Hurts.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers to him. “I’m so sorry.”

“Winnie.” She hears someone calling her name. “Winnie.”

Winnie, you really must come. We insist.

Winnie, tell your birth story.

I don’t understand, Winnie. Did anyone see you leave the bar?

“Winnie, it’s okay.” She turns around. Daniel is standing next to her.

“You’re here,” she says.

“Of course I’m here.” He picks up Midas, and then smiles. “Come on. Come sit down. It’s okay.”

She reaches for his hand. Slipping her fingers between his, she allows him to lead her back to the circle as the women under the willow tree watch, hugging their babies to their chests, their eyes clouded with concern, their blankets billowing around them in the warm summer wind.