Baby

Most were very happy for them, even as a few still sniffed at their sinful behavior.
    Wil eventually managed to hire two new field hands to help him with the planting. The new hands joined them in the fields for picking, as Netty’s miracle seed continued to out produce anything ever seen before. Extra time to devote to the baking and churning came easily. Their sizable increase in profits escalated the plan for the new bakery. Netty obsessively finished her work at night in time to join Wil in bed, often swatting Baby back to the kitchen. No matter what they did though, Baby always found his way back to bed, wedged firmly between them. They agreed, it was just too darn hard to say no to the lovable creature.
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    Fall descended on the farm like a grande dame preparing to replace her luxurious wardrobe for next season’s fashions. Wil got busy hiring Italian laborers that worked long hard hours to complete the bakery. With the completion of the foundation and walls, the two huge fieldstone ovens in the middle of the floor began to take shape. The space allowed Netty to cook a dozen pies at a time. Interior wood boxes allowed firewood to stay dry all winter. Wil’s design enabled Netty to better organize her utensils for maximum efficiency. They even discussed the merits of taking on an apprentice to help her in the bakery.
    Miracle of miracles, on the day of Netty’s twenty fifth birthday, they discovered Netty was going to have a baby. Most would say pregnancy is unseemly unless you are married to the father. But Wil and Netty refused to accept conventional wisdom. Their jubilance merely gilded their perfect life. The more the bakery grew, the more Netty grew. She realized the time to look into her divorce had long passed. As much as she did not want their child to grow up a bastard, she wanted more than anything to be Mrs. Wil Capaccino.
    Time continued to pass, in a haze of laughter, hard work and love. A now seven month pregnant Netty necessarily slowed down. Her pregnancy began to show inevitable signs of difficulty. The constant vomiting worried her. She thought it should have stopped by now. She never felt like eating so she did not know how she even had anything to vomit up. She also developed a curious desire to lie in the sun, feeling it seep deep into her body, leaving her feeling enriched and less nauseous. Wil and Baby were doing their best to cover for her. Wil helped with the pies and Baby tried to make a stab at the churn. That was quite a sight. They found Baby never stopped giving them something to laugh about. They idly wondered how Baby would take to the impending bundle of joy, hoping he would celebrate along with them. After all, he was nothing if not about new life.
    Netty prepared to make a short delivery to a neighbor about two miles down the road. She knew farmer Neal from her schoolhouse when she was a child. His young wife was also pregnant. Netty planned to make this delivery so she could spend some time with the farmer’s wife and compare pregnancies. She promised Wil this would be her last delivery over the bumpy roads. The lovely March day beckoned, a promise of spring growth around the corner in time to celebrate the end of the construction of the bakery. It had taken every penny of their savings. Netty found herself busy making clothes and diapers for the baby that would arrive in less than two months. They just finished converting the little addition Wil had put on the kitchen his first year at the farm into a space for the baby’s crib. Wil built the crib, of course. His excitement refused to be corralled.
    Netty’s thoughts darkened as she remembered Wil complaining of an ache at the very small of his back. He didn’t yet realize what that meant. With the joy of the baby’s arrival he kept pushing away all thoughts of his impending tail. She hoped Wil would be better able to handle his change with the distraction of the baby. Oh well, she knew they would handle anything life threw at them. They were an unbeatable resilient team. How many more difficulties could God possibly throw their way?
    Netty pulled up to the Neal farm after lunch, tying the wagon to the old hitch, the Neal’s shiny new Ford truck parked in front of their well-maintained barn. She did not plan to be more than an hour or so. Knocking on the door, Mrs. Neal answered, inviting her in for tea and happily relieving her of her basket of fresh fruit. She sat in the elaborate kitchen of the Neal’s