"How wonderful to have a baby," she said in a low voice. "Emma--how
wonderful."
"She is," Oliver apologized.
"Are you happy?"
"I guess so," he said.
She turned. "Oh, Oliver!" She opened her arms, and this time it was she
who was consoling. A part of him wanted to scream with fury, but a
deeper part became calmer as she held him. There were big problems off
in the future--impossible problems--but they were _their_ problems.
"God, I love you," he said, stepping back.
"It's a strange time to feel lucky," she said, "but I do." She looked
at his wedding ring. "I'm a bad woman now, too--along with everything
else."
"Bad to the bone," Oliver said. He reached down for her coffee and
handed it to her. "Some bones," he said. He sat on the log and shook
his head. "Damn . . ." They were quiet for a minute. "When are you
leaving?"
"In three or four weeks. I'm going to drive out, bring as much as I can
with me. I've got to get a better car--something that will pull a small
U-Haul trailer and hold up."
"The money is there if you need it," Oliver said. "Jennifer wants to
buy a house in Cumberland or North Yarmouth. I'm going to use some for
a down payment, but there will be plenty left--ten, twenty, thirty
thousand--just call Myron and he'll send you a check.
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