“I gather she didn’t say anything to anyone else,” Helena said after an uncomfortable pause.

“She wanted something simple…oak or pine,” Lara stated. “In fact she almost decided to go with cremation, but she said she’d be damned if she was the reason you finally uncorked and had a stroke Mother.”

For an instant Alice hated the baby with everything she was. She knew without hesitation that that the decision was already made. They would do whatever they could to save the baby, no matter the risk to Dana’s life. The guilt nearly killed her on the spot.

If Dana read the torment in Al’s eyes, she kept it to herself. She was on autopilot, afraid to break the silence, because if they didn’t speak, this horror couldn’t be real.

“I can’t lose you,” Alice whispered, summoning the courage to shatter the stillness after two of longest minutes in history.

“I know,” Dana whispered back. “And we can’t lose this baby …if there is any way…”

“I know,” murmured Al as she gently cupped Dana’s cheeks kissed her. “I just need to… right now it’s…”

“Surreal,” Dana finished Alice’s thought.

Al rested her forehead against hers. They didn’t need words, just a little time to come to terms with what was happening.

A half hour later time began to speed by. Bette and Tina arrived as Dana was signing the consent forms. Her hands were shaking so much that the signatures were barely legible. Alice was resolute in her support while the anesthesiologist explained the risks of the drugs, using a well rehearsed speech. Too soon, the attendants arrived and waited impatiently for Al and Dana to share a private moment before Dana crawled onto the gurney. They held hands all the way to double doors leading into the sterile area just outside the operating room. Alice was afraid that her heart was going to be wrenched from her chest when they were forced to let go. After standing vigil at the doors for as long as she dared Alice retreated, numbly, to the small comfort Tina and Bette could offer. Suddenly time began dragging, each minute the very definition of anguish.

“Lindsay’s children adore you,” Helena observed as the waiter refreshed her strawberry lemonade. “She’s done a good job insulating them from everything.”