Peg said to me, “You’re sure you want to come? They don’t always know until the blood tests come back.” But I wanted to take the day off. This was an occasion. Besides, it was a beautiful day. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. We took a streetcar, then walked two blocks. In the trees over Chester Avenue, squirrels frolicked and robins chirped. I saw people walking jolly dogs. Sunlight glinted on the windshields of parked cars. I held Peg’s hand.

The nurse called Peg’s name and took her to see the doctor. When Peg reappeared, she had a smile for me. “They’ll call when they get the lab report. But the doctor says she can already tell. I am. You’re going to be a daddy.”

I smiled. I kissed her. As we walked hand in hand to the streetcar stop, I noticed again that there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and I remembered that sunlight can give you cancer. I wished for an umbrella. The trees over Chester Avenue were full of squirrels and robins. The fleas on squirrels can transmit plague. Birds made me think of West Nile virus. And all these dogs... Any one of them can bite, can carry rabies. As we crossed the street, I glared at the drivers. Sharp chrome. Glass. Peg said, “You’re hurting my hand.” I said I was sorry, and I lessened my grip. But not much.