' But I
didn't _feel_ diplomatic. I was mad as hell, actually."
Owl's words echoed: "_Anger is the outer face of fear._"
"Scared," Oliver said.
Jennifer looked at him. "Maybe so," she said. "I thought we had a
family. I thought we were all set to go."
"Well, sure," Oliver said.
"'So,' Rupert said, 'who's the father?'
"'What do you mean?' I said.
"'It's not me,' Rupert said. I was shocked. Anyway, it came out that he
has a very low sperm count. He knew it all the time and never told me.
I told him that you and I had a one time thing last summer, and he
freaked out.
"'I'm not paying for his kid, bla, bla, bla.'
"I practically begged: 'Couldn't it be like we adopted him--or her?'
"'It's his problem,' he said. He called my baby a problem. How could he
love me if my baby is a _problem?_"
"Good question," Oliver said. "Jesus, Jennifer."
She put down her tea and held her arms out to him. "Come feel," she
said. She loosened the bathrobe and guided Oliver's hand to her belly,
warm and taut.
"Amazing!" Oliver said.
"I'm still getting used to it," she said. "I'm over the morning
sickness."
Oliver withdrew his hand slowly and straightened.
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