It was Easter Sunday. If that didn't make Ruth want to get out of bed and go to church, nothing would.

"I'm not feeling well," she mumbled into her pillow when he asked if she was going.

He felt her forehead. "You don't feel hot."

"Well, I still feel bad."

Kid hadn't pressed her to talk about it. He hadn't much wanted to talk about it either. He hated emotional confrontations and talking about feelings, but he hated seeing her this way even more. "How long you going to stay in bed? The rest of your life?"

"I don't know."

"Blast it all!" She didn't even flinch at his cursing, not that it had been his intention to make her do so, but he softened his plea anyway. "Mercy and I need you. We're still here. You're still here. It's high time you start acting like it."

She sat up and faced him, looking wounded. "You think I'm doing this on purpose? That I'm choosing this? I'd love to feel like getting up. I just don't."

"Cause you're thinking gloomy thoughts. Of course, you're going to feel gloomy if all your thoughts are gloomy."

"I am and I can't stop them. They just keep repeating themselves. I want to stop them, but I can't. It's not as simple as thinking happier thoughts. I try and the dark thoughts creep in anyway. It feels beyond my control."

Kid didn't understand why she couldn't banish them, but he wanted to know more about it. "What are these thoughts? Maybe I can help."

Her arms folded across her chest and she seemed to shrink. "Well, for one, it should have been me."

"You mean you that died? That's an easy one. No, it shouldn't have. And leave Mercy without a mother? Leave 2 little girls to a man dying of consumption? Does that sound right to you?"

"How can you be so cruel?" she asked, tearing up. "Are you saying you would rather our baby have died?"

"You expect me to not be glad that you're the one who lived?" he asked angrily. "Well, I am glad. I thank God it wasn't you and if that's a sin so be it. Maybe I'd feel differently if we'd known her longer, but I don't think so. I'd give my life for my children, but I wouldn't give yours. Maybe it does make me selfish that I don't want to live without you, but it's the truth."

"You don't understand. I did know her. I felt her kicking and playing and growing inside me. I had dreams and hopes for her. Now they're gone. She's gone. I can't just get over that as easily as you want me to. It ain't right for a child to die before a parent. It ain't natural."

He knocked over the nearby vase in anger, finding the shattering satisfying. "And I didn't have any hopes or dreams for her? I wasn't a part of her life while you carried her? Is that it? She was my child too! You don't think I grieve too?"

"I didn't say that." Her voice was calmer, more controlled. She wasn't afraid of his anger because she knew he only abused objects in the height of anger, not people.

"No, but you're thinking it."

It was true that she was upset that he didn't seem to be grieving as hard as she was.

"I'm grieving just as much even though I'm not languishing here in bed," he said loudly. "I'm scared, Ruth. I've never seen you like this. Are you even praying anymore?"

"You think I'm not? I pray every day." Every word made her voice raise higher in volume. "Every day. And the days are just getting harder. So what does that mean? You think you have all the answers. What does it mean!"

"I don't know, but I know this ain't helping. If you'd just get up and go to church at least. You'd feel better. I know you would. I love you with every breath in me. Mercy loves you. The people at church love you. God loves you more than all of us combined. Isn't that reason enough to get up? To go on?" His words didn't move her. He'd poured his heart out to her in the course of the argument and she looked like stone. "It's like I don't even know who you are anymore!"

That wasn't what she wanted to hear. He was confirming the fear she had that she was somehow losing herself. He stepped closer, but she shouted, " Get the devil away from me. Get out of this room!"

He was shocked. She wasn't speaking of the devil in the literal sense for once. It was the first time he had ever heard Ruth swear. Ever. It was such a departure from her normal personality that he obeyed immediately.

He was confused as he stood outside the door and a little hurt. It wasn't how he expected the confrontation to go, but the argument had gotten some things out into the open. That had to be good. So why then did everything feel so terribly wrong?