They stood in
amiable silence as rain dripped from the barn roof.
"Couple of cows and I'd be right at home," Arlen said.
"I've been thinking of getting a little John Deere."
"Well--they can come in handy."
"I guess." Oliver's thoughts drifted to Jacky. She appeared, on cue,
walking up the drive. He met her with a hug. "Jacky! You look great."
She held him tightly and then stepped back, knuckling the top of his
head.
"How's married life?"
"Fine," he said. She looked at him closely.
"I'm thinking of trying it myself," she said. "I don't know."
"Uh, Jacky, this is my buddy, Arlen."
"How do you do," Arlen said, extending his hand.
"A pleasure to meet you," Jacky said. "What's that in your glass?"
Arlen held his glass up for inspection. Jacky bent forward and sniffed.
"Sarsaparilla!"
"Quite good on a rainy afternoon," Arlen said.
"Yumm," Jacky said.
"Oliver, sarsaparilla for the lady."
"Right away. Does the lady like water with her sarsaparilla?"
"Half and half."
"Yes," Arlen said approvingly. Oliver prepared her drink and handed it
to her.
"To your new family and your beautiful old house," she toasted.
"Jacky! How nice!" Jennifer swept in and gave Jacky one of those
lengthy woman to woman hugs, timed to the microsecond to communicate
eternal devotion, unceasing turf vigilance, equality before the Great
Sister, and other messages beyond Oliver's understanding.
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