Helena sobbed. “Wujek will kill me,” she wailed. “Uh, no, I don’t think he’s going to kill you,” Norman offered. “Of course not. What for?” Bauser added hastily. “B-b-because I had a BABY!” she wailed. “Well, these things happen,” Norman offered. “And the father’s not even POLISH,” Helena continued. “Or JEWISH.” “Well, nobody’s perfect.” Norman shrugged. Helena blew. Jim bayed a la beagle in support. “Jim bays?” I asked. “Who knew?” Bauser shrugged. Huh. Figures. Just like every other guy I ever met, Jim has a thing for blondes, too. “When I got pregnant, Pop sent me to a group home in Vermont for wayward shiksahs,” Helena explained. “He wanted to shame me because the baby’s half-Irish. But a week later, Ma showed up and bailed me out. We took a cabin on Lake Champlain for the summer,” she added wistfully. “That was a real happy time. Ma was nice to me. It was a real first.” I nodded empathetically. “So Ma and I decided to rent a condo in Burlington, near the hospital.
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