Lauren is bleeding. It started early in the morning. It has been three days since the doctors confirmed they could not find a heartbeat and that the baby had stopped growing.
“I will cancel my meetings and stay home,” the man says. It is Sunday, and he is bishop.
“I would rather not deal with the kids today. I would rather that you take everyone to church, and then when it’s over, keep them out of my hair.”
He cannot have them at bishopric—Lindsay is just too young. So he cancels bishopric and spends the extra hour getting the kids ready for church.
When he arrives at ward council, he sees Evan and Cheryl Smith. They have their kids too—Evan is the ward mission leader and Cheryl is young women’s president. “Can Wes help keep an eye on my kids too?” he asks them. “Grant will be fine. Even Lucia. But Lindsay could use someone to keep an eye on her.”
“Sure,” says Evan.
“Is Lauren ok?” says Cheryl.
“The bleeding started.”
“And she’s home by herself?”
“Yeah. She didn’t want the kids around.”
“Ok. I’m going to her now. Evan, you’ll have to get a ride home for you and the kids.”
“We’ll figure it out,” he says.
Cheryl disappears quickly from the room, and for the next four hours, while the man officiates over ward council, sacrament meeting, Sunday School, and priesthood … while the children attend Sunday School and Primary … while the rest of the world turns and people attend meetings or are just waking up or are settling in for Sunday football, the two ladies sit together in the Laws’s 1400 square foot half duplex as the remnants of the tiny ruined life flow out.