"
"You're so imaginative, Oliver."
"Frozen peas, best I can do." He waved the bag in the air. They ate and
watched the news. Oliver slid a clean pillow case on the extra pillow
and put a lamp on the other side of the bed. Seduction scenes were
easier. They happened or they didn't in a great rush. Jennifer couldn't
find a book that she wanted to read. She took a copy of _Wooden Boat
Magazine_ upstairs, and Oliver followed her awkwardly.
They lay side by side while she paged through the magazine. "I like
this one." She pointed out a 32 footer at anchor in Penobscot Bay. The
builder and his wife were enjoying cocktails. A golden retriever was
slumped near the bow, his head between his paws.
"Nice," Oliver said. "I wonder if Verdi would like it. Remember Verdi,
my cat? Verdi, where are you anyway?"
"I haven't seen him since I got here," Jennifer said.
"He's hiding. Anti-social. He'll come out when he's hungry."
"I'm not hungry now," Jennifer said, putting down _Wooden Boat._ "That
was a good dinner. Thanks for taking care of me."
"You're welcome." Oliver turned out his light.
"Nighty night," she said and rolled to her side. The comforter went
with her.
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