But, thank you." He stood, pulled a baseball cap down on his
forehead, and touched the brim in salute. "I'll be getting along." He
walked out.
"B.B. King," Oliver said. "Didn't he sing that?"
"Never mind, Oliver; we're bringing the good luck with us."
"Congratulations," Martha said.
"Oh, thank you!" Jennifer jumped up and hugged her. "Come on, Oliver.
We've got to move."
A week later, Oliver was sleeping in a new bed, high off the floor. The
physical move doesn't take long, he thought; getting used to it takes a
while. He missed knowing that Arlen and Porter were downstairs. Porter
had made an extravagant cake for Jennifer the week after she had Emma.
Driving home from Deweys to North Yarmouth wasn't as easy as walking up
the hill to State Street. No five minute walk to Becky's for breakfast,
either. On the other hand, he had a good work space in the barn, and it
was quiet at night.
Oliver counted his blessings. Verdi had made his first patrols and was
adjusting. The leaves were changing color fast. It was beautiful,
really. Jennifer loved the new house. Emma had a room with a baby bed
and a playpen right next to their bedroom. There were plenty of
projects; that was fun.
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