"
"Fine, fine," Gene said, "we can't wait to see her."
"Come on up."
"Fine. Dolly will call, tomorrow or the next day."
Oliver's mother shrieked, sobbed, and made him promise to call the
moment that they were ready for a short visit. Oliver agreed and hung
up thinking that good news was easy to pass along. He had already
written his father and explained the situation, so he needed only to
send a birth announcement. "Emma Dior Prescott--April 26th, 1994--7 lbs
6 oz. Looks a little like us," he added beneath.
He walked to the corner and dropped the card in the mailbox. On his way
back, he met Arlen and told him the news. "A major event. I'm happy for
you," Arlen said. Oliver took a nap and walked down to Deweys for more
Guinness and congratulations. He went to bed feeling as though he had
made it through a one-way turnstile. Things were different on this
side; there was a lot to do.
The next day he brought Jennifer and Emma home from Mercy Hospital.
Verdi had gotten used to Jennifer. He sniffed Emma for a moment and
then jumped to his place on the living room windowsill, settling down
as if to say: one more--what's the difference?
Emma slept and fed.
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