Chicago, Illinois, March, 2078, Saturday…

Bobby nervously waited for Samantha to return from the bathroom. He was stretched out on the bed naked except for his shorts. His head was spinning a little from the beers, yet he was nervously waiting for what she had to tell him. He knew she had seen her gynecologist.

She was probably going to tell him whether it was a boy or a girl. They could do that now. He wanted a boy more than a girl, but there was always time to make more babies.

She came out of the bathroom, completely naked, except for the chain around her neck. She was fondling the crucifix that was attached to the chain.

"God, you're beautiful," said Bobby.

She laid down beside him.

"I don't want to make love tonight, Bobby."

"Hell, why not, woman? You got some other guy you want to do it with?"

"No, I'm just not in the mood, Bobby."

"All right. So what did the baby doctor say?"

She looked at him sadly and a single tear rolled down each cheek.

"The baby has Down's."

He looked at her, thinking a moment.

"We'll get rid of it. We'll make a new one."

"No, I'm having the baby. I'm Catholic."

"Are you crazy, Sam? Those genetic boys can help, but not much, in this case. Think of all the responsibility."

"It's your child, too."

"I don't want the freaky kid. I want to make healthy babies with you. Don't lay this on me, Sam."

"I've been thinking about this all day. I even went to see Father Dan."

"So, surprise me already. Don't you think I know what that priest would say. Of course he'd say you've got to have the kid. That's the standard line. They don't care if he's a mental case as long as he's a Catholic."

"Actually he didn't give me the standard line. He said it was my decision. He helped me lay out a whole list of pros and cons. He mentioned the responsibility. The fact that Down's adults are prone to early Alzheimer's. All the stuff you can see on the internet and more. It was very helpful, but it's my decision, not his."

Bobby got up angrily.

"Hey, I'm twenty-five, baby. I figure that on the average I got another hundred left in me. I'm not going to spend those years taking care of a kid like that."

He went to the closet and began to dress.

"Where are you going?" said Sam.

"Out. I think I need another beer. I love you, Sam, but this is unreal!"

He dressed and left hastily, leaving her on the bed crying.

Before the baby even came, they were divorced.