A two-way radio seated in a battery-charger on the counter suddenly squawks to life, and Beth jumps. She catches bits and pieces of a broken transmission—something about having "secured grid 12" and "Zebra Base confirms I.A.C. entering grid 7"—before an old woman snatches it up, turning it off, and apologizes for the noise.

The two women quickly warm to each other as Beth pays for a room and is given a key. The old clerk encourages her to use the pool before "Andy" closes it for the night. Beth says she will, indeed.

As she leaves, the woman asks, "How's it feel?"

Beth just looks at her. "I'm sorry?"

"Your bundle of joy, there. How's it feel?"

Beth is taken aback. "But I'm not even showing!"

The old woman smiles. "It shows in your eyes. Your face."

"It's terrifying," Beth says at last. "Being an expectant mother … isn't at all like what I expected."

The woman seems to think about this. "Nothing ever is. And nothing's ever easy, or cheap. But make no mistake: that's a gift from above you got there."