"This is a life doughnut for a baby. Don't ask me how I got it. Well...okay, it's from Sylvia. But don't ask me how Sylvia got it. I don't think we really want to know." Genesis stared at the curious white ring for a few seconds with a confused face, but then went on. "Now, I don't know why anybody would make a life doughnut for a baby, though."

"Ah?" I was confused, too. Why was Genesis giving me this, and from Sylvia of all people? We hardly knew each other, and her earlier advice...I couldn't bear to think about it.

He sighed and placed it by my feet on the bed. "When I told Sylvia what happened she went hysteric. Said she had something for you, that you'd need it. She said it was a lifesaver, but I didn't expect it to be literal."

"Um, but why would she give it to me?" I folded my hands across my stomach tentatively. Gone were the belts now, but sitting had been...unwelcome. When I'd tried with Frankie here...my fists clenched. So I was laid here unwillingly, unable to walk, unable to sit. I felt like an invalid, but I'd done it to myself. Frankie was convinced Luciano had coerced me, but the truth...I couldn't bear to tell him the truth.

"She said it was for sitting. You sit on it and 'gentle things don't touch' and then she told me to shut up and just give It to you."

I wanted to laugh at him, but it hurt too much. So I gave him a small smile to show him I appreciated his humor instead.

He paused, then peered at the lifesaver at my feet. "She wanted to know if it helped you, though. But I don't know how we'd do that."

Oh. Sit on it? I wasn't sure. Trying to sit had been hell, even on a pillow, so I didn't see how this would be any different. But seeing the caring look on Genesis' face, knowing he'd never willingly hurt me, I thought maybe...

"Um, okay, we can try...but I don't know how we'd do it either."

"Hmm. Well, you know how it is. Great minds think alike. Do you think your boyfriend could help?"

Right, Frankie was in the hallway taking a nap. He hadn't wanted to leave me, so he'd left me as little as possible this past week. He didn't even go home to sleep, thus the hallway. His devotion to me...I'd never comprehend it, but oh how I adored him.

"I passed him on the way in," Genesis went on. "The boy looked absolutely pooped if you ask me. But maybe he'd know."

"Um, yeah. We tried to get me into a sitting position earlier for breakfast," I admitted, my head down. I closed my eyes, thinking about it again. I could still hear my screams, see Frankie's wide, scared eyes.

"So maybe the three of us can figure something out then. Sylvia said the lifesaver helps, so. Maybe."

"Yeah, maybe."

"I'll go get him, then."

"Okay..." I was trying to hide the unsureness in my voice. It seemed like he hadn't noticed, but Genesis always had a polite way about him where he pretended to ignore when others were uncomfortable. It seemed like a southern thing, I wasn't sure. But he left the room anyway, leaving me staring at the baby lifesaver at my feet. It did look ridiculous. He was right.

Before I could think much about it, a minute later he was back with Frankie, who was looking bleary eyed. I felt immediately bad for him, because if it hadn't been for me...if I hadn't...maybe he'd have been able to rest.

"What is that?" he immediately asked, indicating at the baby lifesaver. The look on his face, I couldn't help it. I started laughing, all the stress too much. But the rolling vibrations of it...

"Hh-oww...oww..." I winced between my giggles, holding towards the bottom of my belly.

"No more laughing," Genesis observed, taking the lifesaver from Frankie's hands. He'd picked it up in those brief seconds to inspect it. "This is a baby lifesaver," Genesis said, holding it up for Frankie to see. "It's for sitting on."

"Why would it be for sitting on? I don't understand," Frankie sighed. He was peering at me, that worried look on his face again. The same scared look from this morning. It arose whenever I was in obvious pain.

"My friend Sylvia said so. She said she used it after her surgeries. I don't know how it works."

"Her surgeries?" Frankie's look turned to one that I couldn't decipher. It seemed almost hurt. I wanted to hold his hand. What was that look?

Genesis ignored his question, no shuffling around the room. He got ahold of the metal chair in the corner and dragged it loudly across the floor.

"Jee- Goodness gracious, Genesis," I sighed, remembering not to say God's son's name in vain in front of him just in time.

"Okay so," he said, looking at the chair and then at me, "we can experiment by putting the lifesaver on the chair? What do you think?"

Frankie immediately started to shake his head.

"What?" Genesis asked, already setting the lifesaver on the chair like a cushion.

"Georgina can't stand," he said, looking at the lifesaver and then at me. A feeling of shame radiated through my heart and into my cheeks, making me blush. I didn't want to look at either of them. Suddenly them both trying to help me like this was too much, and I felt a dark place in the back of my mind for it.

"Can we help her stand? What's the problem?"

"It hurts her a lot."

"Things are going to hurt."

Frankie looked down at the floor at this. It caused the shame to ripple up again. "I don't want her to hurt." Genesis stood silently next to the chair, staring at us. Frankie looked like a little boy and I couldn't stand it. He looked too young again.

Genesis started to tap his chin in thought, staring at the ceiling. After a few seconds, he stared at us again. Hi being so much older than us started to feel real, though he didn't look it. I felt like a stupid child.

"How about...hey you know...you know how the nurses get people on the little toilet basin they put in the bed? Can't we put her on this like that?" he asked, picking up the lifesaver again. I rolled my head to the side opposite him, blushing too much at this suggestion.

"I don't know how much that would hurt her. They don't use that for her," Frankie said quietly. I could tell he was quickly losing faith in this enterprise, too worried for me.

"They don't? Then what are they using?"

I pressed my lips together, too embarrassed. I didn't want him to ask such questions. But before Frankie could answer, I tried to take control. I didn't want Frankie to have to answer that.

"It's a bag," I said, trying not to move. The embarrassment was traveling up my spine, making me tremble.

"Maybe we shouldn't talk about this," Frankie said. Shocking me, he folded his hand into mine. The trembles tried to go on, but now he'd given me stability.

"Oh. Yeah, sorry..." Genesis sounded embarrassed himself, his voice unusually small. Maybe he'd realized how invasive that question had been. But then I realized that wasn't it, because he went on. "Then how would she get on this? Is there a tube or something? Would the tube pinch or-"

"Genesis, stop!" I pressed my lips together, realizing I'd said this too loudly.

"Sorry..." he said, this time sounding sincerely apologetic. Awkward silence met this, and the blushing in my cheeks pumped up like a foreign entity. Frankie squeezed my hand, but I couldn't look at him. I was going towards the black place again in my head and I couldn't help it.

Finally, Frankie spoke, breaking the silence. It made me choke up, but I tried not to let either of them see it. I tried to make my face go as far as possible to the side, burying part of it into my pillow.

"Maybe we should try some other time," he said very politely. "I'll take that, and if you come by tomorrow then maybe we could try then. Or maybe a nurse can help her get on it."

"Yeah, maybe that's a better option," Genesis agreed mercifully. I closed my eyes, so ashamed it hurt.

I heard him leave, and he didn't even say good-bye. It was too awkward. I just felt so awkward. A million questions flooded my brain, shameful things. Questions I didn't want to know the answers to. Regretful feelings, shame, shame, shame.

I heard the door close with a click, and then the sound of Frankie sitting in the metal chair. His warmth surrounded my hand, the familiar weight of it. And finally I let loose the shameful tears, the ones about not wanting anybody to know what was down below, not even my closest friends.