About every hour or so, Wonka would come in to visit me and see how I was doing. At around 2 in the afternoon, he came in with Starr in his arms.

"She's hungry and I can't find the formula anywhere. Do you know where it is?"

His voice seemed rather irritated, maybe even slightly angry.

"Um… it's in the kitchen in the glass cupboard above the sink next to the wine glasses on the bottom shelf. Is there something wrong, honey?"

"No, there's nothing wrong. I'm just fine. How are you?"

"Ok, here. I now officially declare myself well. Give me Starr; I will handle her for the rest of the day. It seems as though you are having some trouble with all of these things you have to do, so I'm going to help you."

"Did I complain? I'm not complaining! Don't accuse me of having trouble when I'm not having any. I don't appreciate it."

His voice was too loud, and way too firm. Starr began to cry.

"Oh, look. Now the baby's crying! Why did you have to yell? Shhh, don't cry Starr. It's ok. Give her to me."

"What? I made her cry? Oh, of course I did! Here take your baby then!"

He gave me Starr, and then quickly stormed out the door. Starr had not stopped crying yet, and I had to stop myself from doing so as well. Our first fight.

"Calm down, Starr. It's ok. Mommy's here, see? Don't worry about daddy; he's just got too much to deal with right now. He will be fine in a few days."

I fought back the oncoming tears as I brought her to the kitchen. I made her bottle, and went back to my room. I sat there and fed her, and I couldn't help but cry now. "Poor Starr," I thought. She is helpless to what goes on around her.

"Bridget, is everything alright?"

Chocol was standing behind me, gazing up with a rather sympathetic look.

"Yes, everything is fine Chocol. Mr. Wonka and I just had a little argument, that's all. It will be ok."

Another tear fell.

"Are you sure?"

"No, I'm not. He has been so tense lately. It's almost like he doesn't want me to know. He's just so uptight and off to himself. I'm worried about him, Chocol. And I didn't help the situation last night. The poor man. He doesn't deserve this. Hey, will you watch the baby for a few minutes? I need to talk to him."

"Yes, of course Mrs. Wonka."

I went to his room, where he sat running his fingers through his straight hair.

"Honey? Are you ok?"

He didn't move.

"I know what you're going through. Can I help you? Isn't there anything I can do? Please, I want to help you. I'm worried."

He turned around and looked at me for a second, but then returned to his original position.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you. I just don't know what to do. I'm so scared, Bridget. I'm afraid that I'm not going to be able to raise this baby right. What if it grows up to be a delinquent or something?"

"Oh, don't worry honey. Oh, you poor thing. Look at you. You look so exhausted. Oh, why don't you lie down for a while?"

"No, I can't. I have to…"

"No. just lie down and rest. I will handle everything."

"But you're not feeling well."

"So what? You are in worse shape than I am. I really am worried about you. I don't want anything to happen to you."

"What's going to happen to me?"

"You never know."

He lied down, and about a minute later he was asleep.