He pulled a mug from the cupboard andprepared his instant coffee, then sat down in one of their flimsy,vinyl-covered dinette chairs. It squeaked as he did so.

“Well, Neal?” Annie said. “I’m waiting foran explanation. Why did you leave her on the counter?”

Neal did not answer.

Annie made a growl in her throat. “You knowbetter than that. She could fall on the floor and break her neck,or some other bones. Babies have extremely delicate bones,and even the smallest fall can result in a fracture—my books sayso. If you’re not careful, she could easily break...”

Neal gazed down at his cup, no longerlistening to his 19 year old wife. Some of the instant coffeehadn’t dissolved. He watched the brown grains swirl around andaround, like Annie’s lecture.

“She talked,” Neal interrupted, at no pointin particular.

Annie’s mouth was still open, mid-sentence.She closed it and stared blankly at Neal. “She what?”

“She talked, Annie.”

Annie glanced down at Natasha, then back ather young husband.

“I know it sounds strange,” he said, “butit’s true.”

Even though such a notion was crazy, Nealcould tell she at least wanted to believe him. He knew thatsome part of Annie was convinced she had given birth to the nextMessiah, or, at the very least, a child prodigy who would grow upand change the world. He supposed all mothers held such hopes.

“You mean, ‘ga-ga, goo-goo’?” Annieasked.

“No. I mean words. Real words,Annie.”

She laughed. “I hate to tell you this, Neal,but five month old babies can’t talk.”

“I know.” Neal took another sip of the lousyinstant coffee, wishing he had spiked it with a shot or two ofwhiskey.

Annie watched him for a moment, thenapparently decided maybe it wasn’t such a far-fetched notion afterall.