Rose was lying in bed with Byron at her side. The house was quiet and she was not sure of the time, but she thought it must be well past midnight. Sleep had eluded her for hours now. Since they had been married, she and Jack had not spent a night apart and without his presence in the bed, it felt very empty.

She thought back to the horrible things that they had said to one another in the afternoon. What had even started it, except that they had both been tired.

"How could we have done this to each other? Where is he? What if he doesn't come back?"

All these thoughts raced through her mind. If she could only start yesterday over again, this never would have happened. Just then she felt the baby move.

"Oh, little one," she said tenderly, as she put her hand on her stomach. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for him to go away."

As Rose started to cry again, she thought she heard a sound downstairs. Byron looked up at her, twitching his ears from side to side. But he did not seem alarmed and made no attempt to move. Whenever Byron heard Jack coming, he thumped his tail up and down and that is what he was doing now.

"It must be Jack," she thought, sitting halfway up in bed.

She waited breathlessly as she listened to him climb the stairs and heard the footsteps stop outside her closed door. She bit her lips, thinking about what to say to him, when she heard Jack continue on to the little bedroom down the hall.

Tears rolled down her face as she pulled the quilt around her. She laid back down in the bed, thinking that she had never felt more alone and helpless in her life.

"Jack, Jack," she whispered to herself. "What's happened to us?" she said, whimpering like a frightened child.

* * * * * * * * * *

Jack threw his clothes in the corner of the room. The walls and the bed spun around in his line of vision. He looked at the wooden clock on the wall. Even in his stupor, he could tell it was 3 A.M. He had been gone now for almost ten hours. Ten wasted, miserable hours. Drinking and wandering from one tavern to another. What had possessed him? He hadn't had a night like this in more than five years.

"And I hope I never have another one," he thought, totally disgusted with himself.

When he had left Chippewa Falls, he had set out to prove he was a man and had almost killed himself in the process. Since that night when he had been so sick, he only touched an occasional beer.

"I can't even count how much I've had tonight. I don't even remember half the places I've been," he mumbled to himself.

He settled himself on top of the bedspread. His head hurt terribly and he couldn't see straight. In three hours he would have to get up for work. There was not much point in sleeping now. And without Rose to hold, it would be impossible.

"I can't go in there now. It'll only make things worse, if she sees me like this. And besides, she sounded like she meant it, when she told me not to come near her."

Jack slammed his fist into the mattress.

"Damn, why did I let this happen? What on earth was I thinking of? Couldn't I have kept my mouth shut instead of arguing with her? Maybe she didn't feel good or something."

Jack laid there for awhile listening to the sounds of the night. A train whistle in the distance, the wind, a horse cart making its early morning deliveries. He thought of his parents, of Rose and the baby he had fathered. He hated to think of any one of them seeing how low he had slipped.

Once he thought he heard footsteps in the hall and he started to sit up. He breathed the words, "Rose, Rose," but there was no answer.

Rose slowly opened her eyes. Sometime in the night, she must have fallen asleep. Now the sun was streaming in the window and she could hear sounds coming from the bathroom. So she had not been dreaming. Jack had come home. But he had not come to her.

"Of course not. I told him not to touch me," she said to herself, shaking her head regretfully.

She thought about getting up to see if he was alright.

"I can't face him now. But somehow, for the sake of the baby, we have to work things out. We just HAVE to," trying to convince herself that things would be fine.

She sat listening to the sounds of Jack getting ready for work. And she thought of what usually happened each morning. He would bring up some coffee for the two of them and they would talk and tease and make plans while he got dressed. How bleak this morning seemed in comparison.

Rose heard his footsteps in the hall again, but this time he didn't even stop. He just kept going down the stairs.

She panicked and thought, "What if he doesn't want to work things out?"