Chapter 2: Planning and Logistics

PEG

What an overwhelming morning! If Frank had been shaken, I was worse. I realized I needed to take some time away from all this unreality and do something ordinary for a while.

“Honey, will you clean up the kitchen while I do the laundry?”

“You’re going to put fresh sheets on our bed so we can mess them up again tonight? Great idea!”

“Shut up, Frank.”

Almost an hour later, we were back seated together in the kitchen.

“Frank, I have a friend who is a lawyer; I want to call her.”

He put on his thinking face, something I always appreciated about him. Part of our successful marriage, I thought, was that he listened to me carefully, valuing my opinions. Occasionally, when I was waffling, he’d give me a little nudge to help me clarify my thinking.

The best example of that was when I told him I was having a weird fullness in my belly, a little like being constipated, but there wasn’t any evidence for that problem. He nudged me to the doctor, and I was eventually diagnosed with ovarian cancer.

The pressure was from a tumor; the surgeon said it was about the size of a banana. She removed all of my organs, leaving my vagina as a “dead end.” Hormone replacement made up for the missing ovaries, but I still felt their absence until this morning’s miracle.

Frank came back to the kitchen after fetching our phones, indicating his approval. I scrolled through my contacts.

“Meghan? Hi, it’s Peggy Sue Capello; do you have a few minutes? Good. It’s ... hard to explain over the phone. Frank and I have a really delicate situation and need your help. No, nothing criminal, I promise. I know this is a huge imposition on a Sunday, but the only way we can handle this is for you to come to our house and see for yourself. We can talk about retaining you then. Can you come see us? That’s great! It’s 2904 Cedar Lane, the yellow house, and we’ll feed you lunch. Thank you so much, bye!”

I’d last seen Meghan Wilcox a few weeks ago at a party for a local candidate we both supported. I rushed around making sure the house was tidy, and the two of us waited anxiously for Meghan to arrive. Thinking ahead, I left the front door slightly ajar.

“Peg? It’s Meghan.”

“Please come in and sit in the living room,” I told her. “We’ll be right with you.” I wanted her off her feet for the big reveal. Frank and I walked out of the kitchen holding hands.

“I didn’t know you had children ... Wait. Peg, is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me. Frank and I woke up this morning looking like this. We don’t understand why or how it happened. Meghan, we ... hang on!”

My friend was gray in the face and wobbling. Frank and I quickly sat on either side of her for support. Our sofa was big enough so the three of us fit. Our guest took several deep breaths while trying to regain her composure.

“No way. You both look—what, twenty? That’s impossible!”

“Frank and I have been trying to understand, but we come up empty. It’s not just looks. His arthritis is gone, and his belly is flat. Somehow, my hysterectomy has been reversed, and I think he could make me pregnant.”