On our last day on Martha’s Vineyard, we sat in the kitchen quietly drinking our first coffee of the morning. “I want to do it,” I said out of the blue. “I was just about to say the same thing.” “So this is real?” “This is real,” Carey said, and then pointed to her belly. “Besides, something tells me it was never up to us. This kid wants to be born whether we want it or not.”
