I had this issue at home and had probably read it fifty times. At six months old, though, it was the most recent magazine on the rack that wasn’t about parenting or cooking, neither of which interested me. Not that I would have been reading it even if it was the newest issue. I was here with Meredith, and the clock on the wall said Dr. Reid would be calling us back any minute. I doubted I was anywhere near as nervous as she was, but I was indeed nervous. She sat beside me, enthralled with a copy of Reader’s Digest. Neither of us had spoken. It wasn’t a hostile silence between us. I couldn’t decide if it was nerves that kept us quiet, or if there were simply too many potentially prying ears nearby. Whatever the case, we didn’t speak. To anyone else in this room, we were a couple sitting quietly, waiting our turn. Perhaps we were here to save a troubled marriage or consult with someone about a difficult child.
