Some big men are scary. This one made me feel comfortable, right from the beginning."Don't I know you?" he said. It wasn't a pick up line, it was a simple question. He looked familiar. I'd seen him before somewhere.
"Could be," I said.
"You're Mike Quinn's wife. Betty."
"I'm Walter. Everybody calls me The Bull. Or Bully. I used to go to St. Xavier's with your husband."
His voice was deep, resonant. I wondered if he sang.
We shook hands. His hand was huge, but held mine gently. He asked me if I'd like another drink. I said sure, why not. That's how it started. Just like that.
But I'm getting way ahead of myself.
Three months earlier I was just waiting. I knew that a second pregnancy usually goes quicker than the first, and I told Mike before he went to work that I had a feeling I'd have the baby that afternoon, and I wanted him to be ready to come right home to take me to the hospital. He kept saying, "Sure. Don't worry about it."
Around two in the afternoon I felt the contractions picking up so I called the electric company. They told me Mike wasn't there; he'd called in sick. Where was he? Nobody knew.
I called a cab.
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