He
thought of getting out of bed quietly and taking coffee to Crescent
Beach. Would Francesca be there? Would she miss him if he didn't go? If
he did go, how could he explain to Jennifer where he'd been? He wanted
to share the new developments with Francesca, but he was afraid of
hurting her. Maybe it was better to let it be for a while. Maybe
Francesca wouldn't be there. Maybe she was already on a warm beach in
Costa Rica, not a snowy one in Cape Elizabeth.
He got up, made coffee, and turned on the radio. The public station was
playing a Bach cantata. Oliver repressed a feeling of disloyalty as he
took the coffee upstairs. "_Love the one you're with, _" he repeated to
himself from The Rolling Stones.
Jennifer hunched herself up on the pillows and accepted a mug with both
hands. "Mmmm," she said, sipping. "Have to do it."
"Do what?"
"Call Mother."
"Ah," Oliver said, "me too."
"She'll be fine once she gets used to it."
"You mean, used to me."
"Yes, Silly. She's already excited about the baby."
"Maybe we should drive down."
"Yes, but I'd better go first. Then we'll go together--maybe at
Christmas."
"O.K.," Oliver said.
"Daddy won't care; he never liked Rupert.
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