Helen and Garp lay beside each other on Garp's narrow bed in one of the guest rooms in one of the garrets at Dog's Head Harbor. The house had so many bathrooms--they couldn't even be sure which bathroom they were listening to, but they listened.
"It's a woman, I think," Helen said.
"Here?" Garp said. "Of course it's a woman."
"I thought at first it was a child," Helen said.
"I know," Garp said.
"The humming, I guess," Helen said. "You know how he used to talk to himself?"
"I know," Garp said.
They held each other in the bed that was always a little damp, so close to the ocean and with so many windows open all day, and the screen doors swinging and banging.
"I want another child," said Helen.
"Okay," Garp said.
"As soon as possible," Helen said.
"Right away," said Garp. "Of course."
"If it's a girl," Helen said, "we'll name her Jenny, because of your mother."
"Good," said Garp.
"I don't know, if it's a boy," said Helen.
"Not Walt," Garp said.
"Okay," Helen said.
"Not ever another Walt," said Garp. "Although I know some people do that."
"I wouldn't want to," Helen said.
"Some other name, if it's a boy," G
arp said.
"I hope it's a girl," said Helen.
"I won't care," Garp said.
"Of course. Neither will I, really," said Helen.
"I'm so sorry," Garp said; he hugged her.
"No, I'm so sorry," she said.
"No, I'm so sorry," said Garp.
"I am," Helen said.
"I am," he said.
They made love so carefully. Helen imagined that she was Roberta Muldoon, fresh out of surgery, trying out a brand-new vagina. Garp tried not to imagine anything.