69
LYNNE
“Dinner is ready,” Rafaela said as she entered the master bedroom.
I sat in the old rocker by the window, nursing the baby. “I’m not hungry,” I said.
“You have to eat,” Rafaela reprimanded me. “You’re nursing. Your child needs the proper nourishment.”
I nodded. I had to think of him. “Could you bring it up? Would you mind?” I asked. “Kiwi needs me.”
Rafaela gave me a disapproving look. “I suspect you need him more than he needs you right now,” she said. “But you may have your dinner alone, if that’s what you want.”
As Rafaela started to leave the room, I said, “It’s not fair, you know.”
“It’s up to God to decide what’s fair and what is not,” Rafaela disagreed.
“God wanted us to be together, and now He doesn’t,” I said, unable to contain my bitterness. “Where’s the fairnes
