A sign announced that two babies had been born
overnight. The hospital was known for its high-quality birthing. I
could work here, he thought. But he had no idea whether he'd get the
job. Gifford Sims hadn't exactly been blown over. On the other hand,
there weren't many people around who could step right in and take over.
Most good programmers already had jobs or would want full-time work.
Oliver drove home. In the mail, there was a large flat package from a
bookstore and a letter from Myron saying that the account was open. He
wrote the number on a card and put it in his wallet in case he should
see Francesca. He decided not to send her a letter; she had her hands
full. If she needed cash, she knew how to get it. The arrangement gave
him a warm feeling when he thought about it. He was useful to her, even
if she never touched the money.
There was a gift note inside the package: "This is the guy I was
telling you about. Home in one month. Muni." The book was by George
Nakashima, _The Soul of a Tree._ Oliver was immediately attracted to
the photographs of walnut, cherry, and chestnut tables. The tops were
made from wide slabs that had been left in their natural contours.
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