During breakfast, Rob had to keep himself from inhaling the tiny bowl of honey he’d been given. He’d started politely enough, spooning a moderate amount into his porridge, but soon he found himself dipping his bread into the sweet stuff, and when Papa slipped some extra honey into Rob’s bowl, he didn’t even think to protest. 

Sweets were hard to come by in this world, and Rob hadn’t realized how much he missed them.

“More eggs?” Mama asked Rob from across the table. “The chickens were good to us today.”

“I—,” Rob started to say before realizing his mouth was too full to talk. He chewed, swallowed, rinsed, repeated. “Yes, please. I didn’t think I was hungry until you started cooking.”

After some initial wariness upon finding the ‘strange naked man’ up and about, Papa and Mama had welcomed Rob to their quaint, story-book cottage. Neither batted an eye at the hodgepodge of clothing Rob has taken from their wardrobe, despite the fact that they couldn’t just run down to Old Navy to replace the missing items.

“I appreciate your hospitality,” he said, absently reaching up to adjust his glasses before remembering they were gone. “But I should be on my way. I think you said we’re a good walk from town?”

“We used to live closer to town, where my family had a money-lending business,” Mama said. “That was nice for the shops and company, but I suppose Golda explained how the church doesn’t exactly welcome our . . . lifestyle.”

Papa grunted while rubbing Mama’s back in a reassuring, intimate manner. “Let’s not bother him with our problems,” he said.

“It is lovely out here in the woods,” Mama said. “And we’re free to be ourselves.”

“Mama,” Papa growled.

“What?” Mama said. “You think we should be ashamed? I won’t be ashamed, not in our own house.”

“He’s not interested,” Papa said, loudly blowing air from his nostrils. “That’s all I’m saying.”

“I’m not saying he’s interested,” Mama said. “I’m just saying he doesn’t seem like someone who’d care that you and I are—”

“Look, it’s totally fine with me,” Rob interrupted. “Where I come from, everybody—okay, not everyone, but lots of people—are very tolerant, very supportive of same-sex relationships.”

Rob popped the last bit of his honey-swabbed bread in his mouth as the table fell silent. “Still, I know it’s not easy. I have gay colleagues at the hospital where I used to work, and they have to put up with varying levels of discrimination, although these days most of it revolves around partner benefits. It’s different than your situation, I understand, but I want you to know I’m totally gay-friendly.”

Everyone had frozen in horror. Everyone except Rob, who tried to figure out what he’d said that required an apology, and Baby, who looked from Golda to Mama to Papa and asked, “What’s ‘gay’?”

Golda whisked Baby into the next room with a motherly, “Let’s wash your hands.” Papa and Mama remained at the table, their bodies as stiff as the wooden benches they sat upon. Papa rose, his huge hands bunched into fists.

At last, Mama spoke. “I meant that we’re Jewish,” he said in a stunned voice just as a knock sounded at the door.

“Robert,” Maggie said, poking her head through the window of the Bears’ snug cottage. “What kinds of trouble are you stirring up now?”

“They are gay, though, right?” Rob asked once he and Maggie were a safe distance away.

Maggie’s brow furrowed over over her light hazel eyes. A swath of freckles ran across the bridge of her nose, making her look as if she were wearing a mask. “Yeah, I suppose. It’s not really something we talk about. Folks here are okay with Jewish people, though I hear that’s not true everywhere. That other thing is tricky.”

“I didn’t understand,” Rob said. “I thought they were being open. It’s different where I come from. I mean, not everywhere, and I suppose attitudes have changed pretty recently, but still. I didn’t understand.”

“They’re not mad.” Magda combed her fingers through her head of straight, greasy hair, pulled a chunk over her left shoulder and began to braid. “They’re just worried about how you’d react.”

Rob sat down on a rock.“It doesn’t seem to bother you.”

Maggie shrugged. “They’re not hurting anybody, especially way out here. And as someone who’s been told she doesn’t know her place more times than I can count, I guess I’m on their side.” The muscled redhead sat down cautiously, leaving a handbreadth of space between them. “Um. So. How are you?”

“Fine,” Rob said, rubbing the bump on the back of his skull. “No lasting damage. But everything’s going to be real blurry if I don’t find my glasses.”

“Not from that,” she said, looking away. “From before. From me.”

“Oh,” Rob said. “That. I’d almost forgotten in all the excitement.”

“When I heard you’d been hurt, I—” Eyes filling with tears, she cradled her mouth in her hand. “I’m sorry. I was upset and took it out on you. I don’t know what else to say.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that.”

Rob took a breath before replying. “Yeah. But your running away was worse. I was shocked, too, and you left me without anybody to talk to. I mean, there was Zev, but he’s not the best listener.”

“Christ, you didn’t tell him, did you?”

“No,” Rob said. “But pretty soon I won’t have to. You’re going to start showing eventually. Maggie, you’re a hundred percent sure you’re—”

“I missed my period. Twice. And I can feel my body changing. I’m pregnant all right.” Maggie wiped at her teary eyes. “I don’t know if I can be a mother. I can barely maintain a relationship with you. How am I supposed to love some child? Robert, what are we going to do?”

What were they going to do? Maggie talked about her body changing, but that was nothing compared to how a baby would flip their lives upside down. He’d known fellow residents who’d practically fallen off the face of the Earth after having children. 

They’d promise to keep in touch, but the next time Rob would see them, they’d be on a playground wearing stained sweatpants, bags under their eyes, and a sticky three-year-old wrapped around their necks.

There were ways to end this with just a word to one of the town’s herbalists. Maggie didn’t want a baby, and Rob certainly wasn’t prepared for parenthood. But just because he was a pro-choice, leftie-Seattle voter didn’t mean he’d recommend terminating a pregnancy. Especially when it came to his and Maggie’s own flesh.

Rob forced himself to look at Maggie. The tears were coming—not as many as earlier that day, but enough to melt any caring person’s heart. Her thin lips trembled, and as he took her in his arms, she began to sob all over again. At the very least, she’d taken his mind off the can of Red Bull hidden back at his townhouse.

“What are we going to do?” Maggie cried into Rob’s shoulder.

“First,” Rob said, “we’re going to stop crying.”

“Pah, pah, pah,” Maggie sputtered in a blend of sobs and laughter.

“Then we’re going to go home and find me some new clothes. Figure out what to do about my missing glasses. And finally, in about seven months, we’re going to have a baby.”

Maggie collapsed in a fresh round of tears.

“There, there,” Rob said, ineffectually patting her back. Maggie was supposed to be the strong one, and he hardly knew how to react. “People have babies all the time. We’re going to be fine.”

“Robert, why can’t I stop crying? This isn’t like me. What’s happening?”

“Well, you’re pregnant. That can mess with your emotions. And having a baby is a pretty big deal.”

Maggie laughed while wiping her nose. “A big deal? Pah! I’d smack you again for that if I didn’t ...”

“Didn’t what?”

“Are you going to make me say it?”

“I’m still not sure what you’re going to say.”

“I love you, Robert.”

“Oh, that,” Rob said. “I am very lovable.”

She choked out another laugh. “Even when you think you’re being funny. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Rob said, and he meant it. “We’re going to have a baby. Unbelievable.”

Maggie looked skyward after an hour or so of walking through the woods. “It’s starting to rain.”

Rob held out a hand. “I don’t feel anything.”

Maggie pulled up her crimson hood. “You will, once the tree needles are wet enough. I’ve still got to make another stop. Will you be all right?”

Rob’s bare thighs had begun to chafe, and without his glasses he’d stubbed his toes too many times to count, but he nodded. “The sooner I can get home, the better, though. How far to your stop?”

“We’re already there.” Maggie pointed to a three-story tower built log-cabin style from interlocking tree trunks. A balcony ran around the highest level.

“Rae!” Maggie shouted. “Rae? It’s Magda! I’ve brought your basket!”

Rob wiped beads of moisture from the sleeves of his borrowed tunic. “Why is there a fort out in the middle of the woods?”

“Defense,” Maggie answered without looking away from the balcony. “The girl lives alone out here, and her family wants her protected from animals and bandits and such.”

“Why not just have her live in town?”

“You’ll see,” Maggie said quietly. “Here she comes.”

“Miss Magda, is that you?” a muffled female voice spoke from high within the tower.

“It’s me, Rae. I’ve got someone with me today, but don’t worry.” Maggie stole a quick glance at Rob. “He’s harmless.”

Rob was about to protest the harmless label, though with what evidence he had no idea, when a human figure completely covered by human hair leaned over the balcony railing.

“Greetings, Magda,” the hairy figure said. “It’s ever so good to see you. Shall I let down the rope?”

“That would be fine. Rae, I’m traveling with the new doctor. Do you remember me telling you about him?”

“Yes, of course. Hello, doctor.”

Rob waved in greeting and tried to make eye contact, but between her hair and his myopia, all he could make out was a mountain of brown locks. “Ah, hello,” he managed.

“Nice to meet someone new out here in the woods,” she said. “I’ll grab the rope.”

While Rae disappeared back into the shadows, Rob turned to Maggie. “What the hell was that?” he hissed.

“Isn’t it obvious? She has . . . I don’t know what you’d call it. A hair disease? The doctor before you ordered her quarantined so it wouldn’t spread to anyone else.”

“There’s no such thing as a ‘hair disease.’ At least I don’t think there is.”

“Quiet, she’s back.”

Rae shuffled back to the edge of the balcony. “Here’s the rope. Sorry to keep you waiting in the rain.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t melt.” Maggie reached out to grab a length of brown, stringy twine, and she attached the basket to the wooden hook on the end. “There, all set. You can pull it up now.”

“Was that rope made of . . . ?” Rob whispered.

“Don’t ask,” Maggie muttered.

Rob frowned, trying to remember how this story ended. He hoped it wasn’t with anyone being hung in a noose of human hair.

“Doctor,” Rae called down to Rob once she’d retrieved her basket of foodstuffs. “I wonder if there’s any chance I could return to town? I’ve been out here for years, and it’s ever so lonely.”

Rob took a moment to wipe raindrops from his forehead before answering. “I don’t know what the other doctor told you, but I can’t imagine you have anything contagious. I’d guess your hair growth is the result of a hormone imbalance, or maybe some genetic factor. As far as I’m concerned, you can come back to town with us right now.”

Just then a familiar figure stepped out onto the balcony to join the hirsute young woman.

“Greetings, doctor,” spoke the Fair Godmother. “Might I have a word before we make any decisions affecting my daughter?”