Why the Sky Is Blue by Susan Meissner Page A

clothes for me from women in the church. The clothes had all been freshly washed and ironed and smelled faintly of Downy. I had kept none of my maternity clothes after Dan’s vasectomy and had no desire to shop for new ones. Becky didn’t make a big deal about the clothes, which I was grateful for. She just brought the box in, set it on the floor, and told me when I was done with them, just to give the box back to her and she would get the clothes back to those who owned them.
    Later, as we sat in the kitchen enjoying a cup of late-morning coffee, Becky asked me if Dan and I had contacted an adoption agency. She and Nick both knew we weren’t going to keep the baby. I wasn’t thinking much beyond one day at a time. I told her no.
    “There’s a couple that some friends of ours know. They’re American missionaries to Ecuador,” Becky said. “From what I hear, they’re wonderful people, Claire. And they’ve never been able to have children.”
    I was a little unprepared to have this conversation, so I just sat there playing with the handle of my coffee mug as Becky continued.
    “They tried adopting a little girl from Argentina once, but it fell through. They lost a lot of money, and I’m told it broke their hearts. They had wanted that little girl very much. I think they would give this baby a loving home, Claire—just the kind you have been telling me you want for it.”
    I took a deep breath. Talking about handing over my child made my head ache and my throat feel funny.
    “How do you know they would want this baby?” I asked.
    “Because I called them last night,” Becky said simply. “I got their number from my friends in Wisconsin and called them.”
    “What? You called them in Ecuador?” I said, laughing a little.
    “No, I called them in Duluth. They have family near there and are on furlough for a year. Claire, they want to talk to you and Dan.”
    It seemed to be happening way too fast.
    “I think it’s a little early for that,” I managed. “A lot could happen in the next month or two.”
    “I know,” Becky said, but she was really saying, “But what if nothing goes wrong?”
    I took a sip of my coffee. What if nothing did?
    “Who are they? What are their names?” I asked.
    “Ed and Rosemary Prentiss.”
    “They sound old,” I said quickly, hardly thinking.
    “They aren’t that much older than us. He just turned forty-five. She’s forty-two. She’s only five years older than you, Claire.”
    I didn’t want to talk about it anymore.
    “I’ll think about it.” I finally said.
    “Talk to Dan,” she said, picking up her coffee cup and taking it to the sink.
    “I will,” I said, but I must not have sounded very convincing.
    “It would take a tremendous burden off of you, Claire, knowing there’s a family waiting to raise this child. You wouldn’t have to give it another thought.”
    I didn’t know how to tell her that was precisely what troubled me. I was terrified of being expected not to give this child another thought. How could I not give it another thought? How would I ever be able to forget I had borne a child I wasn’t supposed to love and couldn’t hate?
    Several days passed before I finally asked Dan about it. I had seen Becky at church and, sure enough, she asked me what Dan had thought. I told her I would ask him that day. When the kids went sledding with some friends in the afternoon, I took advantage of the time alone to tell him.
    I should have guessed Dan would think it was a great idea. I knew he didn’t love this child, but I also knew he didn’t want it to suffer or be harmed in any way. He wanted it to have a good home to grow up in. And the little I knew of the Prentisses, he liked.
    “Let’s call them up,” he said.
    “Can we wait until at least the fifth month is over? They’ve been disappointed before,” I said.
    He thought about it and then agreed.
    We decided to hold out until the first of March. If there was no change in my condition, then we