27 “He may not come, you know,” she said. She was so nervous that she ran her fingers through her hair again, the hair she’d brushed until it shone. She’d tied it back and then set it down, then braided it and then brushed it out again. After all that, she had left it loose and simply tucked it behind her ears. She chose the pink blouse and the jean skirt that fell to her knees. She stuck her bare feet in her flats and shivered in her thin coat all the way to the doctor’s office. “Abby, you just got here. Take a breath. You look very nice, by the way,” Dr. Blaney said. He smiled and linked his hands together. Abby paced and set her palm over her heart, which was pounding like a freight train down the tracks. “Do you think Eric will like the way I look?” She tried to smile but couldn’t.

